Pages

Monday, July 16, 2018

Wherever we go: Turkey travels

Along with other Master of Divinity students from Drew Theological School, I visited Turkey early in my summer break for two weeks. We had an adventurous time including touristy things like visiting archaeological sites and caves as well as time with Turkish citizens who are doing important work.

Some of this important work comes in the form of making carpets or serving çay (Turkish tea), while others' important work shows up through liberation of refugees with education or standing for women's rights.

I am thankful to have spent two weeks of fulfilling adventures with this fun and thought-provoking crew: Gülin, Brinna, Paul, Michael, Wren, Kate, MJD, HyungKoo, Olivia, Cynthia, and me. I'm a fan of selfies, so I became the token selfie-photographer of group events. We visited the stunningly beautiful area of Cappadocia which include pigeon valley, fairy chimneys, and cave houses. Turkey is a magical place.

I believe we are all called to important work in whatever we are doing. It doesn't have to be big, glamorous things to make a difference in the world. The simple, seemingly mundane tasks can be as important, if not more, than the big things. Relationships and community are built on the basic day-to-day activities that grow into more than they seem in the scheme of life. I loved the community and the unexpected relationships that grew through interactions on this trip.

-----

One of my favorite stories is during our trip's visit to a carpet shop. Our leading professor, Dean Melanie Johnson-DeBaufre (known as MJD to all of the students or MEL-ah-nee to everyone with a Turkish accent), knows everyone. Or practically everyone. My friends and I made jokes that MJD has an international, co-ed sorority because we had unplanned interactions with friends and acquaintances almost everywhere that we went.

Once upon a time, MJD inspired me to begin making memes of Drew Theo humor after her skilled usage of GIFs on a Facebook thread. Many months later, the memes continue.

When we went to the carpet shop, we were told that we would meet one of MJD's friends. He is one of many.

Upon meeting Yuksel, he ushered us into his shop and showed us carpets while we ate pide, or Turkish pizza. I knew I couldn't afford a carpet, so I followed Brinna, one of my roommates at Drew, around as she determined which carpet to purchase. Afterward, I was wandering through the many rooms of the shop until I returned to the room in which we saw the carpet presentation.

I was really just thinking of lyrics from Disney's Aladdin going into the carpet shop, and I did not imagine how formative the conversations at the shop would be.
Yuksel and I were talking about my group's trip in Turkey so far - about halfway through our time in the country - when we then spoke about his daughter. She left the suburbs of Bergama to attend a university. As an unaware American (unintentionally wearing a shirt with a depiction of the contental United States on this day) who did not know the population of Bergama at the time, I said that I understand leaving a rural area to go to a more populous area for school, as that is what I have done in moving from rural southern Illinois to live in suburban New Jersey.

Yuksel said, "My daughter didn't want to live in a small town anymore." I asked for the population size, and he told me that the area of Bergama has approximately 110,000 people.

I laughed. Of course.

While in Bergama, we visited the archeological site of Pergamon, referenced in the book of Revelation. This gorgeously expansive view is from the top of the theatre.
A "small town" is such a relative idea. Bergama, with an estimated population of 103,000 is considerably smaller than Istanbul, the largest city in Turkey with nearly 15,000,000 people. Because Istanbul has approximately 20% of the country's population, *of course* anything else in comparison is a small town.

It's such a funny thing to me, though. I live in Madison, New Jersey which has a population of 16,000; it is seen as a "small town" in comparison to New York City which is less than thirty miles away. To me, a small town is the perfect size of 1,400 people like the best hometown in America: Vienna, Illinois.

-----

Regardless of where we live - whether in a small town, a suburb, or the largest city in one's own country - we all want a place to belong. We look for places that fit our community needs and desires. Sometimes, we want cities that are big to explore and get seemingly lost in because of all of the newness. Other times, I find that we are searching for small, tight-knit group locales in which we can gather with only the closest and share memories and values.

It appears that human nature is to desire or imagine oneself in a small community, even when moving to larger areas. I am from a tiny town and I live in a borough that feels like a large suburb, but my favorite group to be with right now is comprised of my closest ten to fifteen friends. Many of the groups who my colleagues and I met in Turkey are transforming my idea of simply hanging out to a hospitality and welcoming kindness that I hope to replicate.

-----

In Bergama, we met MJD's friend, Mehmet, at his restaurant for dinner. Later that evening, Mehmet - a Kurdish man - directed us to an area of the city that is populated by people of the Roma community. Previously, part of our group had attended an academic conference in which there were ongoing conversations regarding the terms Gypsy and Roma.

I knew very little about Gypsy communities other than a few surface-level pieces:
1. Esmeralda in Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a Gypsy
2. There was a TLC show, Gypsy Sisters, that I watched a few times in undergrad
3. I know it's wrong to say someone was "gypped," as in being cheated out of something, but I didn't know why or what the connection would be

In one of many instances on the trip, I recognized that I had a lot to learn in order to reach out to different community contexts around the world. At the academic conference, it was discussed that Gypsy is not an appropriate term because of its negative connotations. Instead, these people groups prefer to be known as Roma / Romani.

Finally, I had justification for recognizing that a term was incorrect! I embraced the Roma terminology, and I learned that Romas were traditionally nomadic people, although most Romani in present-day Turkey have a more sedentary lifestyle.

-----

I was so glad to have this basic information before visiting the area of the Roma community with Mehmet, but I still went into the meeting feeling uncertain. My colleagues and I were told that we would hear some musicians, but I don't think any of us could have expected the fun and communal welcoming that we would receive.

First, Mehmet led us to the center of the neighborhood, an area which borders the Kurdish neighborhood, as both groups identify their homes as ghettoized areas. They are marginalized people groups in Turkey because their ancestors have not been allowed to participate in the long-standing leadership, and the Roma and Kurdish in Bergama recognize that they must stick together and protect each other.

We first went to a coffee shop, one of two facing each other. On the one side of the street is a shop filled with people who work in business and are local community leaders (whether official or not); on the other side is a shop filled with people who are unemployed. We were guided to the shop of the employed, which - as no shock at this point - served mostly çay tea.

Though not from the Roma village, this is one of many glasses of çay consumed over my two weeks in Turkey.
As we were wrapping up drinking our tea and finishing our conversations, musicians approached and began to talk to Mehmet. He had hired his friends to play music for us, so we followed them to their home. While in the courtyard, we were again offered çay and snacks. Few in Turkey deny offering their hospitable acts, and the Roma family followed that pattern.

One of the musicians was related to the family whose house we were visiting: we met his parents, his early teen awkward sister, and his Spiderman-loving four year old brother. His grandma and a few other family members and friends were there for what turned into our private concert. The dad and Mehmet served as MC-types for the show to encourage people to sing or dance. I jumped up when called to mimic the dance moves I saw from the daughter and from our tour guide, Gülin. I was so happy to see that my classmate, Cynthia, was ready to jump in on the action. She enthusiastically participated in the dancing alongside Gülin.

Necessary items for a Roma party: instruments, a front courtyard, and hospitality. Everything else is extra to the music and the community.
The hospitality and the carefree sense of the music and dancing were a source of joy, though I knew I wouldn't ever do this at home. We have house parties on rom-coms, high school dances in sweaty gyms, and clubbing for the fun crowds, but I don't participate in any of those. To be out of my American context, to be in an unfamiliar place, to be allowed an opportunity to dance without expectations over my performance abilities after a past in musical theatre - I was relieved. I was able to be fully present to enjoy the music and the dancing while taking in how special of an experience this is.

I couldn't have stumbled onto a Roma party in a courtyard on my own. My introverted, not-wanting-to-bother-others, shying-away-from-center-stage personality would have refrained from introducing myself to a family who were enjoying life right in front of their house. I would have kept walking down the street, oblivious or unwilling to experience the fun that could await.

The family that we met wasn't without their own issues. The grandma, one who seemed like a lover of music and dance, refused to participate in the dancing because her daughter died a year ago. We didn't get many details, but the family was extremely respectful and reverent of her desires. They hesitated to participate at times because of her deference, but she encouraged them to have fun while observing from a bit afar. 

-----

Communities are shaped in different ways for each one. The way I act with my family differs from how I am with my friends from Illinois, much like how my attitude with my framily in New Jersey varies from how I am with my non-fiction book launch team friends throughout the country. We're all different, but different doesn't mean bad or good; it's just different.

The Roma community is quite unlike what I am accustomed to knowing: I don't play my instruments outside, I don't invite random people from another country to party at my house (even if I would be getting paid as these musicians did), and I don't know if I would be as respectful to a family member who is still in such deep of a feeling of grief as the grandma was.

But, I strive to be that way. I want to work toward sharing my gifts with others, welcoming the stranger and sharing love to my neighbor (much like "We Resist" by Mark Miller), and respecting those who are in familial positions of honor.

-----

I was asked recently if I have a ministry focus as I study through the M.Div. program. For the first time in months, I had an answer: I work with youth and arts with an influence toward liberationist justice, and I am in the social justice advocacy track with personal writing that focuses on aspects of oppression based on gender at the intersections of race and class. 

That's, like, really wordy. So, I'm working on knocking that down by cutting a few prepositional phrases and eliminating some of the theo-world wordiness. But, because my worldview and subsequent shift as a progressive Christian involving liberation out of oppression, I was thrilled / ecstatic / out of this world pumped to meet awesome groups full of women in Turkey who identify as feminists.

They were so, so cool. I could have stayed to listen to them talk all day. Their community-based work is ridiculously amazing. Due to some limitations in power and unsettled political dynamics, I feel as if it is best to refer to them in a public space online in the order that my class met them as Group 1 and Group 2 rather than by name. Feel free to reach out to me to get links to their websites to learn more; my hope is that their peaceful work will be seen as what it is and that they can become less under the radar.

I wish it was safe to share pictures and more information about the two feminist groups who we met. Instead, enjoy a picture of some of my favorite strong women: Olivia, me, Brinna, MJD, and Gülin.
-----

Group 2 has seen the oppressive powers of politics unite and divide their group. As an organization that banded together to create unity for the right to wear headscarves in public universities, they changed the climate in the legal sense to allow for this right. These women did a great work by coming together under a common belief that they could outwardly express their religious or family ties.

Unfortunately, the group is relatively inactive in recent months. Their website has not included a report since August of 2017. When we were on our way to meeting the group, MJD and Gülin prepared us for a large group of women whose opinions may differ than many others who we had met in Turkey thus far. Only one representative met with us that day.

As a wonderfully insightful religion professor who self-identifies as a "religious feminist," the woman who we met spoke of hopes for the group that may not play out into actual work of the future. The professor said, "Feminist, in general, means rebellion." The apartment where we met - which previously held rebellious group meetings and imaginably boisterous conversations over the work of justice for women - now sits nearly vacant.

-----

Group 1 is rather dissimilar in the aspect of present work. The group came together after an earthquake struck Turkey in 1999. With many people in need of resources, the women created an organization to help other women. Now, the work primarily focuses on refugees and members of the LGBTI community (oft-referenced in Turkey with these five letters and not as the commonly held grouping of LGBTQI+ in my progressive American circles of influence and understanding).

While working with refugees, Group 1 mostly comes in contact with those who are seeking a place of safety from the turmoil and war in their home of Syria, though refugees from other local countries exist in their programs. The group is equipped to work with women and children from these families while the men are often finding or holding jobs in Turkey.

These refugee women may have never been able to access education for themselves or their families, and they may have never left the home without a spouse. Group 1 meets with the women in their homes, encourages them to attend educational workshops (generally centered on language, artistry, and job skills), enables them to navigate local resources such as groceries stores and nearby markets, and provides access to the world of opportunities outside of their homes.

-----

The leaders of Group 1 who we met were clearly passionate about their work. Much like me when I am talking about something which I find exciting, their verbal processing was at an increased speed with a desire to share about their work that also includes working against child marriages, maintaining gender equality, and striving toward racial equality among all who live in Turkey (whether permanently or temporarily).

At Anitkabir, or the mausoleum of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (founder of the Republic of Turkey) in the capital city of Ankara, a carving is found to depict the importance of women. I was fascinated by this small girl who was looking up to the women. Let us never forget to look to the women who have put in the hard work before us.
I asked about why they are passionate, and I loved some insight into their lives. The primary person speaking English said that she was raised by her family to be an independent woman. She studied abroad in England for a semester while attaining an undergraduate degree, and she is unmarried at thirty-nine years old. She said it doesn't bother her; her independence is not a liability.

The other person from Group 1 who we met is Kurdish and is less confident in speaking English. She learned Kurdish at home from her family in the southwestern part of Turkey, and she learned Turkish in school. While studying to major in sociology, a professor informed her of feminist work which she has followed since graduating. She recognizes that she approaches aspects of oppression from her context as a Kurdish person, one whose ethnicity is marginalized within the country where she has been a citizen for her entire life.

We asked about the work of empowerment that is created by Group 1, and the leaders made a statement that has stayed with me throughout this time since returning to the US. One said, "I don't like to use the word empowered. Women are already powerful." To think that I must do the work of empowerment would be to elevate myself in an already-privileged position to bring someone else up. I don't have to move up to enable rising power within another person; I only have to be willing to help others and then to pull back from my unwarranted class and racial privilege.

-----

Between the two groups are miles (or kilometers for those who remember the metric system unlike me) and variances, though hope abounds with both. For Group 2, the leader was hopeful that the results of the upcoming national election would bring unity to her formerly-cohesive group. For Group 1, the English-speaking leader was hopeful the political climate would change in the election or - if not a change of the political party in power - the economy would fully tank in order for Turkish citizens to recognize the harmful work of the leading AKP (Justice and Development Party).

On Sunday, June 24, Turkish elections were held, and I know a few Americans who were holding their breath until hearing the news about our friends in Turkey. Much to our disappointment, AKP remains in power with President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan going into another term as the governing leader.

I was crushed. I had hope that this election might bring change to my friends in Turkey. I had hope that maybe the marginalized could rise up to overthrow the leaders who continue sustained oppression. I had hope that maybe seeing a tyrannical foreign leader taken out of power in his country would provide hope for the tyrannical leader of the United States to be stripped of his position.

And yet, my hope was not enough to enact change.

-----

I think of the work that these two feminist, counter-culture groups are performing which are big and small. Much like other forms of Turkish hospitality, they offered fruits, bagels, and çay. The feminist groups inhabit the goals and leadership of their organizations which are enacted within the communities being served. They have work to do with encouraging individuals to seek more out of life: education, liberation, opportunity.

A statue of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk is found in Istanbul near Gezi Park.
I can't help but feel as if the morale and community-mindedness of Turkey is being chipped away with each day that President Erdoğan is in power.

I can't help but notice that the morale and community-mindedness of my American friends is chipped away with each day that we rise up against a lack of gender equality or against a refusal to allow families to remain together upon entering the U.S. while migrating.

-----

We may be knocked down.
We may not see our ideals come into reality.
We may have to keep fighting and keep doing and keep trying to make a change in the world.

But, our community can't be taken away. I hope the same for those in Turkey.

-----

One of my favorite statements that drives unity comes from To Kill a Mockingbird. Harper Lee's beloved novel says, "There's only one kind of folks: folks."

Other than with my gluten free or celiac friends, bread is what brings people together. The same is found in Turkey with the frequent inclusion of ekmek.
I had so many times in Turkey that I had to check my American privilege:
when I realized that I had never been in a religious minority while surrounded by people of Islamic faith,
when I recognized that I had never researched the reason why Gypsy might be a harmful term,
when I became resistant to the idea of visiting the Greek Patriarchate because of its name and my feminist ideals.

And yet, through all of our differences, we are just people. People are people, differences are good, and people with differences can come together for good.

-----

Another set of MJD's friends, Yucel Demirer and Derya Keskin, met us for conversation and dinner in Istanbul following their attendance at the aforementioned academic conference.

When we met them, the couple spoke of the troubles they have encountered as academians who take steps toward peaceful activism (article published by Agos, a Turkish-Armenian newspaper which we visited). Following their decisions to sign a peace treaty at the public university where they were employed, they were fired and arrested for taking a stand toward what they believe. They have established a network with other academics to create a school with two-year certificates.

Rather than professors, they have facilitators. Rather than students, they have participants. Rather than classes, they have workshops.

These brilliant educators are doing subversive work and putting their livelihoods on the line in order to strongly stand for their beliefs. When I asked Yucel about whether he would identify as an activist, he said, "I don't consider this as activism. I consider this as necessity." Our activism, if we truly believe it, is necessary. We can't give up because the work is hard or the work threatens how we live. We must keep working to attain our goals.

-----

While this was a heavy conversation, our time with the couple was balanced by a time of celebration of Turkishness. We left our hotel on Istiklal, famously known its boutique tourism and plentiful nightlife, and found a nearby restaurant where our experience mirrored the tales we had previously read about in our pre-departure class meetings in Crescent and Star by Stephen Kinzer.

Istiklal is like a dream: beautiful and culturally enriching.

These class sessions included two books - Kinzer's text and  Louis de Bernieres' Birds Without Wings - to read in order to gain some understanding of the culture and atmosphere of Turkey. Nothing could compare to the actual experience of immersing oneself in the country for two weeks, but I still appreciate the preparations that we took which made me a slightly-less-uninformed American.

Kinzer describes a dinner atmosphere which is more like an informal, spontaneous party than anything else. Here, he details eating meals of meze (Turkish appetizers that are eaten with delicious bread), drinking rakı (a liquor mixed with water to become smoky gray in color which is to be consumed slowly, although no one wants to actually drink it slowly), and sharing stories around the communal atmosphere that thrives among the Turkish.

Dinner with Yucel and Derya will always be a night to remember.

That is exactly what I experienced with my fellow students, MJD and Gülin, and Yucel and Derya that night. We were laughing and sharing stories, pausing only to stuff our faces with meze or enjoy a drink of rakı or white wine (though it is not advised to mix rakı with another form of alcohol). We cheered for the group when a round of rakı was poured, and we said cheers to each other to celebrate the merriment. Yucel and I talked about his time studying and working in the midwest, and I gave an abridged performance of my impersonation of MJD and the Drew Theo Deans which I had previously performed at the theological school's Deans' Revue in early May.

From the middle of the table, I could look to one end and see the joyously raucous partying with rakı; at the other end of the table, I could see my classmates discussing life topics over their frequently refilled wine glasses. As much of the trip was, it was an out of body experience that I could make it somewhere and be who I am. I have no shame or disappointment over where I grew up, but a lot of people do not have the opportunity to experience life elsewhere.

In that moment, I recognized that my community grows further and further as I shift from the community of my small town to the community of my suburb to the community of my cohort of companions for two weeks. Community is broad enough to take us all in, but it's a small enough idea that everyone can find a seat at the proverbial table.

-----

In the musical Gypsy (ironically-titled as thus in regards to a conversation over Turkishness), the characters sing, "Wherever we go, whatever we do, we're gonna go through it together."

I laugh when I hear that song because I am brought back to the aforementioned Deans' Revue. MJD and her fellow deans, Tanya Linn Bennett and Javier Viera, performed that song at our first roast / talent show of faculty, staff, and student quirks at Drew Theological School. The song is humorous to me, but the words ring true.

I had just impersonated three people who I highly respect when they agreed to take a picture with me. I'm honored that I can laugh at the humor of the Drew Theo community and be met with smiles.

Whatever your definition is of community - from a small town, from a family concert / party, from an evening spent with new and old friends - I think we will only get through life together. Sometimes community shows up in big political work, and sometimes it appears as people working under the radar to upend years of gender and economic oppression.

It feels like an inadequate understatement, but my trip to Turkey was an enlightening time toward cultures that are different than my own, places and people who are beautifully enriching, and creating a community influenced by generous hospitality. As a community builder, influencer, and organizer, I know that I can't always apply the same tactics as Turkish hospitality, but I can extend the idea from my Turkish friends that all are welcome at the table.

Come on over and have a glass of çay while we talk about Turkey. I know it will be worth the trip.

-----

Bibliography available upon request. Submitted for CRCL 725-A, Turkey Cross-Cultural Trip, Drew University Theological School.

No comments:

Post a Comment