A Cheap Provocation

I had just finished catching up with a friend over a light lunch when the cacophony commenced. Taken aback, I whirled around, completely flabbergasted at the sight before me.

The typically brown-tinted dining common had turned red. Not on account of bloodshed, though with passion akin to it. Obstructing tables and chairs were hastily cast aside as the vibrant flags danced amidst the bodies. Men and women alike forcefully shouted their national anthem; more an exhibit of pride than a display of vocal prowess. The first legitimate protest I had beheld since my arrival in Turkey. My inner reporter sprung to attention: I needed to get to the bottom of it.

I quickly spotted one of my Turksih kankis (term equivalent to "bro" in Turkish) and pelted him with questions. Through his insights and others that I questioned throughout the day, I came to understand the basic reason for the protest along with the realization of how deep the conflict truly is.

As mentioned in previous posts, there is a large-scale, intense conflict between the Turkish republic and the militant group known as the PKK (Kurdistan Workers' Party). The latter, whose goal is the foundation of an independent Kurdish state in Turkey, has been deemed a "terrorist" organization by the United States, The European Union and NATO. The conception of the party, along with the roots of the conflict trace back to the late 1970s. But the cause of the protests and current conflict are in regard to the imprisonment of Abdullah Ocalan, the party leader, along with educational and judicial restrictions on Kurdish language usage. For the last 66 days, imprisoned supporters of the PKK have been on hunger strike, ingesting only water, tea, sugar and salt. This Kurdish protest finally ended the other day as Oclan sent a letter from his cell urging the protestors to cease.

At Koc University, the protest took a different form. The ironic venue choice of the cafeteria coupled with the passionate outbursts of cheers, placed a completely different light on the nationalist's protest form.  Many students joined in with the camaraderie, seeing this as an opportunity to display their patriotism and anti-terrorism stance. But as I watched, I could not help but notice the seemingly artificial jubilation as they clapped to the speaker's calls for nationalistic recognition. Were these students entirely convinced of their reason for being here? For protesting? Or were they merely swept along by the alluring tides of collective purpose?

This evening I attended a student forum, held as a response to the protests. Here I found about 80 calm and collected students throwing thoughts back and forth. The consensus of these students, was that today's protest lacked form and coherence. Many students felt that the protestors had no specific aim for the obtrusive and, according to one girl "threatening," nationalism. Although many found the demonstration (which are few and far between at Koc) refreshing, they could not help but criticize it for its amorphous state. According to those at the forum, many students just wanted an excuse to show their Turkish pride and hatred of the terrorists. But as one Kurdish student raised his voice due to his unease of the term 'terrorist' associated widely with Kurds, there was an obvious collective belief that everyone should be able to speak their mind, as long as they have a stance before doing so.

Although my understanding of the Kurdish conflict is minimal, I could not help but feel rejuvenated by these students. They exhibited a legitimate desire for purpose, change and justice. I realized that in America, save for one lockout in high school, I had never experienced a serious demonstration conducted by my peers. Does our nation not care as much? Do we have it 'all good?' Regardless of whether you personally believe that American youth are indifferent or non-comital, there is one extremely important take-away from all of this. Each of us needs to stand for something. If we do not have an established stance on beliefs, politics, ethics, equality, etc. we will never know when the time will come to raise our voices against tyranny. We will sit there and observe change as it happens outside of us, realizing that we played no role in its development. In order to make a difference, we must make a stand. If someone walked up to you on the street and asked, "What do you stand for?" would you be able to answer them?

Protest Footage from School Today

Needs

Traveling alone for twelve days with only a small backpack and a tight budget forces one to think of human needs in a new way. Once the mindset is formed not to travel for the sake of a vacation but to immerse oneself in new cultures and really try to understand the people, there is a feeling of legitimate purpose outside of oneself. The journey no longer revolves around enjoying oneself through luxuries and security. It becomes an eye-opening, heart-wrenching glimpse into a new form of existence.

Humans only have a few needs-food, water, shelter, sleep. Everything else, although we attempt to justify it as a need, are wants and desires. As I literally had no travel plan after the flight to Athens, I simply had to prioritize my needs. First order of business was always food and water. And shelter followed close behind. Such freedom is unprecedented. And I loved every minute of it.

But trying to understand how others live is never easy. The best we can do is try to get out of our own little worlds and live in theirs. During my travels I was exposed to some radically different lifestyles- men spending the entire day fishing, knowing they cannot return home to their families empty-handed because this means empty stomachs. Families of five forced to accost ATM users in order to have money to eat. Strangers sleeping bundled up next to each other in parks, bonded solely by their mutual vagrancy. I looked upon these individuals with sympathy and feelings of personal guilt. Should I spend my time helping them? Are they just a product of a flawed system or are they mentally/physically incapable of work? Is it my place to intervene?

These questions and others restlessly rattled around the cage of my brain, knowing that true freedom cannot be felt as long as these troubles lie in such close proximity. But while my heart went out to them, I knew I could not be their savior. So I carried on.

"Traveling restores your faith in humanity." That's what my mom told me tonight. And I could not agree more. Although I encountered some of the aforementioned troubling sights, my experience was also chalked full of compassionate natives more than willing to assist a struggling American. I met people from all over the world, each doing their part to get by despite the strains of life. When you see people working unbelievably hard just to get by each day, it fills one with a newfound respect. And when you meet people who are able to squeeze kindness, compassion and humor into a world largely occupied by grief and suffering, there is an genuine admiration that cannot be expressed verbally. It is a truly beautiful thing and a realization that I will hold dear for the coming years.

Greece, Bulgaria, Romania in 12 Days

Parthenon

A Greek friend I made who spent years working in a NJ subway, but lofty medical expenses forced him to return to Greece

A true Greek salad and J&B on the rocks in honor of Patrick Bateman

Greek girls I met in Thessaloniki 

Awesome umbrella street art in Sofia, Bulgaria

Asked her for directions on the metro to a local mountain and she ended up driving me all the way up the mountain!

Casually walking the goats around the block

Dogs in Bucharest would bark and claw at the cars as they drove by

Orthodox ceremony celebrating St. Andrew

My Aussie friend Jordan enjoying his train ride to  Transylvania 

Brasov town square

Narrowest street in Europe

In Bran Castle

Bran Castle

A castle in Rasnov

The view atop the castle

Marvelous Fall colors