This week, the eleventh graders in our school went to a village school in one of the cities in Turkey. We had the opportunity to improve the conditions of their schools and at least scoop them out of their ordinary, boring lives if only just for two days and help them have the best time of their lives so far.
The experience cannot be shaped into mere words and sentences; it was too different and extraordinary to be reflected truly by letters put together in coherent structures. But I'll do my best.
I know that spending time with fifteen kids and having them do artwork or painting their school or setting up a library in just one elementary school in one village in one city in Turkey in the whole world may not seem as much. It seems that there is much, much more we can do, and that is true. When I reflect back to the time of the day we saw the kids run off to their houses at the end of our last day there, carrying their brilliant pieces of art in their hands and decorated by the jewelry they made for themselves, to return back to what they used to do the very next day, some next to his/her parents to work in the farm, some at home to do the work, and some, actually a minority, coming to a school seeming so empty without us there again the next day; there was so much more that we could do. I thought that this was not enough.
Right then, a little girl who I spent a long time with during the activities came up to me and hugged me, with her incredibly beautiful masterpieces of art hanging around her neck, glimmering in the sunlight.
I remembered how every one of them listened intently when we were describing the new activity.
I remembered the boy in the front row getting the hang of the activity we were doing before we could, and enjoying himself so much that his joy was apparent from his deep, dark, shining eyes.
I remembered how they looked up and thanked me every time I helped them with something.
Then, it seemed like we had done everything we could have. I felt satisfied with the work that we did, because we made children happy. Yes, they may have to work in the fields the next day and those hands which so delicately beaded, drew and cut, may be used to tie knots or weed the garden, and get bruised, cut, and harmed. Yes, the girl who wants to be a doctor when she grows up may be forced to marry a much older guy in the next 10 years and look after kids. But that fire of hope we saw in their eyes, that passion to learn and the happiness they had when they were showered with affection and attention, will never go out. The hands of the incredibly talented boy may be bruised and his fingers may be damaged, the girl who wanted to become a singer may lose her voice from yelling at the sheep to keep them together, but their will to learn can never be broken. And seeing this and at least having a part in shaping their lives and strengthening their wills, showing them what they could do, what lies beyond the valley in which their own little village was settled in, was more than enough to be satisfied with what we had done. They are the little, lost kids of our country with giant hopes and even bigger hearts, who are waiting to be found by people like us.
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Time for Summer
The sun glistened upon the beautiful landscape of Antalya, the Mediterranean Sea shimmering under the sun's tentative rays, the sand on the beaches sparkling here and there, and, finally, the first customers of the year, the hotel owners, the bellboys, spilling out onto the streets and beaches, ready, ready for some hot weather, ready for a big bowl of summer.
The trees are now not bare, not frozen solid from the harsh winter, but are embellished with leaves of green and flowers of all colors.
These are the times in which we need to turn on the AC.
These are the times in which we walk on the other side of the street to walk in the shadows of the cumbersome buildings.
These are the times in which we don't carry the burden of coats, scarfs, hats, and heavy boots.
One whole year has passed since the apple tree in our backyard last blossomed. One year of fun, stress, sadness, one year which only remains in our minds as memories, memories, memories, otherwise completely disappeared, gone with the wind. Now we have another spring, another start at the best times to go to school, to go outside, to take a walk, another chance to do things differently this time. A new season, a new beginning.
The time of ice cream, the time of sitting on the grass under the sun, the time of late sunsets, the time of beautiful fruits, the time of sand, sea, sun and everything good, the time for relaxing, being happy, and simply enjoying life to its fullest has come; the time for summer finally arrived.
The trees are now not bare, not frozen solid from the harsh winter, but are embellished with leaves of green and flowers of all colors.
These are the times in which we need to turn on the AC.
These are the times in which we walk on the other side of the street to walk in the shadows of the cumbersome buildings.
These are the times in which we don't carry the burden of coats, scarfs, hats, and heavy boots.
One whole year has passed since the apple tree in our backyard last blossomed. One year of fun, stress, sadness, one year which only remains in our minds as memories, memories, memories, otherwise completely disappeared, gone with the wind. Now we have another spring, another start at the best times to go to school, to go outside, to take a walk, another chance to do things differently this time. A new season, a new beginning.
The time of ice cream, the time of sitting on the grass under the sun, the time of late sunsets, the time of beautiful fruits, the time of sand, sea, sun and everything good, the time for relaxing, being happy, and simply enjoying life to its fullest has come; the time for summer finally arrived.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Life Changing Experience
AMIS Women's Choir, Mixed Choir and Honor Band Festival, Dubai, 2013.
After auditioning for two years, this time around, I got accepted to the AMIS Women's Choir Festival which was in Dubai this year. At first, I was a little skeptical about being in the Women's Choir, I thought it would be boring, and would rather be in the Mixed Choir, which was also in the same place. Only ten minutes of rehearsal the first day was enough to prove me wrong, big time.
We entered the rehearsal room, freezing cold because of the air conditioning, excitement fluttering, plastic chairs set up carefully in four rows. As we sat down and started meeting people, amazed at finally being here, although a little sleep deprived, our accompanist started playing the piano intro to Shenandoah, one of the songs from our 8-piece repertoire. Our conductor, whom we've only seen now for the first time, started conducting, and, as if by magic, everyone started singing flawlessly, as if we had been rehearsing together for months. Of course, it needed some polishing, but it still gave me goosebumps. And from that moment on, I knew that there wasn't another place in the world that I would rather be and no other group of people I would rather be with.
Only, it wasn't magic. It was just an incredible organization which brought together very talented and dedicated 70 young women.
The next time I was stunned was when we got together with the Mixed Choir and the Honor Band to rehearse the finale, Arabian Folk Song Suite. Even though we couldn't quite find our entry point after the intro by the band, even in our first run, nearly 400 people from 45 different schools who have never even spoken to each other before, managed to make beautiful music together.
And with the blink of an eye, it was the concert night, with the next, our accompanist was setting up the music for our last piece as the Women's Choir on her music stand, and with the next, we were belting out the high B-flat the sopranos had for the majestic last chord of the Arabian Folk Song Suite. The greatest experience of my life was concluded, never to be forgotten.
This past week, I've met lots of new people, interested in music, made great music with strangers, got to see Dubai for a second time, climb the tallest building in the world, visit the world's largest mall, and most important of all, I got to see how music can unite people from all around the world.
After auditioning for two years, this time around, I got accepted to the AMIS Women's Choir Festival which was in Dubai this year. At first, I was a little skeptical about being in the Women's Choir, I thought it would be boring, and would rather be in the Mixed Choir, which was also in the same place. Only ten minutes of rehearsal the first day was enough to prove me wrong, big time.
We entered the rehearsal room, freezing cold because of the air conditioning, excitement fluttering, plastic chairs set up carefully in four rows. As we sat down and started meeting people, amazed at finally being here, although a little sleep deprived, our accompanist started playing the piano intro to Shenandoah, one of the songs from our 8-piece repertoire. Our conductor, whom we've only seen now for the first time, started conducting, and, as if by magic, everyone started singing flawlessly, as if we had been rehearsing together for months. Of course, it needed some polishing, but it still gave me goosebumps. And from that moment on, I knew that there wasn't another place in the world that I would rather be and no other group of people I would rather be with.
Only, it wasn't magic. It was just an incredible organization which brought together very talented and dedicated 70 young women.
The next time I was stunned was when we got together with the Mixed Choir and the Honor Band to rehearse the finale, Arabian Folk Song Suite. Even though we couldn't quite find our entry point after the intro by the band, even in our first run, nearly 400 people from 45 different schools who have never even spoken to each other before, managed to make beautiful music together.
And with the blink of an eye, it was the concert night, with the next, our accompanist was setting up the music for our last piece as the Women's Choir on her music stand, and with the next, we were belting out the high B-flat the sopranos had for the majestic last chord of the Arabian Folk Song Suite. The greatest experience of my life was concluded, never to be forgotten.
This past week, I've met lots of new people, interested in music, made great music with strangers, got to see Dubai for a second time, climb the tallest building in the world, visit the world's largest mall, and most important of all, I got to see how music can unite people from all around the world.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Listen to the City
In one of his poems, the Turkish poet Orhan Veli said:
I'm listening to Istanbul,
With my eyes closed...
Today, after spending the whole day out on the streets of Istanbul, I finally understand what he means in this famous poem and what drove him to write all what he has written on Istanbul and its beauties.
My day started with a 'dolmus' (small busses) ride, to the European side, to Taksim Meydani, which was followed by a tramway ride down Istiklal Street, one of Istanbul's most popular shopping streets. Later, we took the 'tunnel', one other form of transportation in Istanbul, to the Karakoy Port, and got on a boat, 'vapur', to get back to the Anatolian side. After participating at the One Billion Rising event at Haydarpasa Train Station, we got on a train and came back home.
And through out this journey, over and under Istanbul, my ears had a delightful time. The dolmus hissing and humming on its way over the Bosphorus Bridge, the bells of the old, antique and rusty, yet perfectly functioning tiny tramway and its gentle touch on the rails, the somewhat sinister and creepy drone of the 'tunnel', slithering inside the old, stone tunnels, and the 'vapur'... How wonderful was the boat trip! For citizens of Ankara (and I think it's necessary here to point out that there is no sea in Ankara), floating on a pool of water is enough to make them happy, but to ride across the Bosphorus, with remarkable and postcard-landmarks all around you, with the sheer screams of the white, free seagulls and the blunt, dry honk of the boat, as if trying to make up to the wetness of the sea, is something truly special and is like nothing else. Finally, the tickity-tack of the train, as it slides gracefully over the now a little bit outdated tracks which once witnessed wars, revolutions, and a new government being built, caressed my ears, making me forget my tiredness, and looking back at the big day I left behind, making me realize again what all of the artists, tourists, the residents, adore and see in Istanbul.
So, listen to the city, listen to what it has to say, because listening to a city is the best way to understand it.
I'm listening to Istanbul,
With my eyes closed...
Today, after spending the whole day out on the streets of Istanbul, I finally understand what he means in this famous poem and what drove him to write all what he has written on Istanbul and its beauties.
My day started with a 'dolmus' (small busses) ride, to the European side, to Taksim Meydani, which was followed by a tramway ride down Istiklal Street, one of Istanbul's most popular shopping streets. Later, we took the 'tunnel', one other form of transportation in Istanbul, to the Karakoy Port, and got on a boat, 'vapur', to get back to the Anatolian side. After participating at the One Billion Rising event at Haydarpasa Train Station, we got on a train and came back home.
And through out this journey, over and under Istanbul, my ears had a delightful time. The dolmus hissing and humming on its way over the Bosphorus Bridge, the bells of the old, antique and rusty, yet perfectly functioning tiny tramway and its gentle touch on the rails, the somewhat sinister and creepy drone of the 'tunnel', slithering inside the old, stone tunnels, and the 'vapur'... How wonderful was the boat trip! For citizens of Ankara (and I think it's necessary here to point out that there is no sea in Ankara), floating on a pool of water is enough to make them happy, but to ride across the Bosphorus, with remarkable and postcard-landmarks all around you, with the sheer screams of the white, free seagulls and the blunt, dry honk of the boat, as if trying to make up to the wetness of the sea, is something truly special and is like nothing else. Finally, the tickity-tack of the train, as it slides gracefully over the now a little bit outdated tracks which once witnessed wars, revolutions, and a new government being built, caressed my ears, making me forget my tiredness, and looking back at the big day I left behind, making me realize again what all of the artists, tourists, the residents, adore and see in Istanbul.
So, listen to the city, listen to what it has to say, because listening to a city is the best way to understand it.
Breaking the Chains
14th of February. A day which has much more importance this year than being a cheesy, consumerist 'love' day. Today, women all around the world "stroked, rose and danced" protesting violence against women. Today, women took action. Today, things changed.
I was part of 'One Billion Rising' in Istanbul, Haydarpasa Train Station. Over 700 women of all ages were there, dancing, singing, clapping for their own kind who are not treated as well as they may be. Maybe none of the women there was subject to domestic violence or harassment, but being there, being part of an international movement, being one of the thousand people there and showing the senseless, abusing, vulgar men the "power of women" (I know it's cheesy) is enough.
The only creatures on earth who knowingly harm their own kind, not for survival, not out of necessity, but because they just want to, and actually enjoy it, are humans, who are supposed to be the most intelligent of all.
Who gives those men the right to harm their wives? Who gives those men the right to rape young women and destroy their lives and get away with it? Above all, who gives them permission to interfere with our lives, or even touch us?
It's our ignorance and lack of action and protests which drives them on and makes what they do seem OK.
But today, that changed. Even if that guy saw our protest in the news and regarded it as an 'invention of the metropolitan city', he now knows that he and what he does is not welcome. He knows that we are not silent anymore. He knows that we are ready to 'break the chains'.
I was part of 'One Billion Rising' in Istanbul, Haydarpasa Train Station. Over 700 women of all ages were there, dancing, singing, clapping for their own kind who are not treated as well as they may be. Maybe none of the women there was subject to domestic violence or harassment, but being there, being part of an international movement, being one of the thousand people there and showing the senseless, abusing, vulgar men the "power of women" (I know it's cheesy) is enough.
The only creatures on earth who knowingly harm their own kind, not for survival, not out of necessity, but because they just want to, and actually enjoy it, are humans, who are supposed to be the most intelligent of all.
Who gives those men the right to harm their wives? Who gives those men the right to rape young women and destroy their lives and get away with it? Above all, who gives them permission to interfere with our lives, or even touch us?
It's our ignorance and lack of action and protests which drives them on and makes what they do seem OK.
But today, that changed. Even if that guy saw our protest in the news and regarded it as an 'invention of the metropolitan city', he now knows that he and what he does is not welcome. He knows that we are not silent anymore. He knows that we are ready to 'break the chains'.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
In the Steps of the Great Master
Two days ago, I visited the Mozarthaus in Vienna. It is a huge, old apartment building turned into a museum without changing much of it. You get an audio guide at the beginning of the tour, and the talking British guy guides you inside the building.
It has been my dream to see and walk where Mozart once lived for a very long time , with his children, his wife Constanze and his pet dog and bird, and what I felt once I finally got there cannot be described with words.
At one part of the tour, the guide asked you to "look out the window on your left". I turned, and saw a narrow, cobblestone street, wet because of the recent rain, with glamorous old buildings and apartments rising from each side. And then, the guide said: "This is the exact view Mozart saw when he looked out of this window."...
If you've ever been to Vienna, you know that the streets are pretty much the same as they were two hundred years ago, minus the infrequent souvenir shops and neon lights. So, what I saw that day out of the window of Mozart's apartment, what I see around me all the time when I'm walking down the streets, is what Mozart, Strauss, Beethoven, Schubert and Schönberg saw and got inspired by. It was the same River Danube as it is now which Schubert wrote his world-famous waltz after.
Realizing this at the windowsill of the Mozarthaus made the rest of my trip a whole lot more interesting, and made my journey in Vienna, in the steps of the great master, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and also many others, much, much more special.
It has been my dream to see and walk where Mozart once lived for a very long time , with his children, his wife Constanze and his pet dog and bird, and what I felt once I finally got there cannot be described with words.
At one part of the tour, the guide asked you to "look out the window on your left". I turned, and saw a narrow, cobblestone street, wet because of the recent rain, with glamorous old buildings and apartments rising from each side. And then, the guide said: "This is the exact view Mozart saw when he looked out of this window."...
If you've ever been to Vienna, you know that the streets are pretty much the same as they were two hundred years ago, minus the infrequent souvenir shops and neon lights. So, what I saw that day out of the window of Mozart's apartment, what I see around me all the time when I'm walking down the streets, is what Mozart, Strauss, Beethoven, Schubert and Schönberg saw and got inspired by. It was the same River Danube as it is now which Schubert wrote his world-famous waltz after.
Realizing this at the windowsill of the Mozarthaus made the rest of my trip a whole lot more interesting, and made my journey in Vienna, in the steps of the great master, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and also many others, much, much more special.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Following Kanuni
Right now, I am at Esenboga Airport, Ankara, and I'm waiting to get on a plane and follow the steps of the longest lasting emperor of the Ottoman Empire, Kanuni Sultan Suleyman, to Vienna.
Kanuni leaded two Vienna sieges, although in the last one he didn't make it home alive. It is commonly known that there were two sieges on Vienna done by the Turks, but there was one more: Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasha took the lead on the last one and it resulted in long lasting wars between countries. Finally, the Turks were deflected from Vienna in 1683, never to return again.
So, today, I'm following the footsteps of Kanuni (only by a difference in height by 30000 feet) , to visit one of the most-wanted cities of Europe, the city of music and arts.
I will walk where Mozart, Beethoven, Schönberg, Brahms, Strauss and Berg once walked and I will relive their legacies.
I cannot wait to get to the capital of music, the city I've heard about since third grade, my first music history class, the city I've seen in the movies of the lives of great composers (which I've watched plenty of times), the city for once hundreds of people lost their lives to either protect or to conquer.
Kanuni leaded two Vienna sieges, although in the last one he didn't make it home alive. It is commonly known that there were two sieges on Vienna done by the Turks, but there was one more: Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasha took the lead on the last one and it resulted in long lasting wars between countries. Finally, the Turks were deflected from Vienna in 1683, never to return again.
So, today, I'm following the footsteps of Kanuni (only by a difference in height by 30000 feet) , to visit one of the most-wanted cities of Europe, the city of music and arts.
I will walk where Mozart, Beethoven, Schönberg, Brahms, Strauss and Berg once walked and I will relive their legacies.
I cannot wait to get to the capital of music, the city I've heard about since third grade, my first music history class, the city I've seen in the movies of the lives of great composers (which I've watched plenty of times), the city for once hundreds of people lost their lives to either protect or to conquer.
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