Report

For the 14 weeks I lived and worked in Turkey, each one was exciting. I keep looking forward to another opportunity to spend one more week there. During my stay in Ankara, I made more friends than ever before in my life. I have gone out more than ever before and have consumed the greatest amount of beef and alcohol than ever before in my life.

This was a lifetime experience, both personally and professionally. I had the most wonderful co-workers. They were polite and good-hearted. They were always available to make sure my stay was a pleasant one. I was always in touch with everyone in the office. Even if I got caught in a taxi with a Turkish driver who spoke no English, help was always a cell phone call away. My co-workers were attentive to making sure I try as many local cuisines as I could, and indeed I did!

Our office was located right near the city centre of Ankara, the capital of the state of Turkey. Protests against the government were a common thing. I recall, during my first 6 weeks, that there was at least one protest each week. I remember one in particular as I was getting off of work. It was close to 6 pm and, as I was heading towards Kizilay square, I saw two ladies running in the opposite direction from which I was walking. They were crying but I did not pay that much attention, and then I saw more adults running and holding their hands over their eyes.

The street was empty of cars. This was very unusual. As I looked way down Ziya Gokalp Avenue, I saw police armoured cars and the street was full of smoke. I was curious, so I went in the opposite direction from the others fleeing the scene. That is when I experienced tear gas for the first time. I had my camera and wanted to get as many pictures as I could. I moved closer, though earlier my co-workers warned me against this since the Turkish police do not like pictures to be taken of them. However, I was excited and confronted with a new kind of risk, I could not resist. At one moment, I felt as though I was in a scene from Macedonia or Kosovo. I enjoyed the excitement that drew me closer.

I finished the first roll and had to refill my camera and went on taking pictures. Then, I saw a policeman who was crying from the tear gas. I thought this was an opportunity for a picture. I moved closer and snapped my shutter. He saw me and, at that very moment I knew I was in trouble. All of sudden all those warnings from my co-workers and the WCP in Florida during orientation started to playback in my head. I regretted what I had done, but it was too late.

The two Turkish policemen were approaching me, one still crying, his face red and wet. They stopped in front of me, "Why are you photographing me, why?" one yelled in a Turkish accent. I said, "I am sorry I just wanted to capture a picture," but he seemed not to understand what I was saying. His fellow officer was much calmer. As I opened my camera to pull out the film roll for him, he said, "It is ok," and pulled his companion back. I finally pulled the film out and handed it to him. The policement walked away.

I recall in Ankara, a particular tank driver who drove his truck right in front of the prime minister's office. The driver parked there and got out. Security people stopped and asked him what he was doing. They thought he had broken down. Instead, the driver yelled I have a present (the truck) for the prime minister. He continued that he had no food to take home. Later on, the security officials checked the truck for explosives and towed it away. They took the driver in for further questioning which revealed that he had earlier bought the truck on loan. Now, since the Turkish Lira (Turkish currency) went down, the dollar value is more then double, and the driver could not pay off the truck which was soon to be repossessed.

One thing I did not like about Ankara was driving – under any circumstances. I do not think I'll ever be confident enough to drive around downtown Ankara. The traffic is terrible there. One stands equal risk walking on sidewalks as if standing beside a highway. Taxi drivers always make sudden stops in their avid pursuit of customers. Sometimes, I would be standing by a crosswalk sign, waiting for traffic to diminish so that I could cross the road and, from nowhere, a taxi would pull right in front of me, blocking my way. I hated this. To me, it seemed as if both drivers and pedestrians had a lot of luck and little patience!

Meeting new people was never a difficult thing in Ankara. Everywhere I went, people showed obvious interest in knowing more about me. For those with courage, they would approach me, asking questions such as my name, where I came from, my age, and what I was doing there. One thing that I will always live to remember is the great hospitality of Turkish people. They are very kind and especially nice to foreigners. From the lady next door of our 11/7 Dedekorkut Sokak apartment who always welcomed me to have tea or Turkish coffee, to people I met in nightclubs or restaurants, they were all very kind to me. They even gave me a Turkish name, Can (Jan), meaning "life." I like my new Turkish name.

One of the most touching moments I had in Ankara, was on a night I went out because I did not feel like sleeping. My body clock was still on US time. I went to a club called Melbo. There I met a man who was very friendly, but who could not speak English. However, that was the best conversation I had that night. We sat together drinking. He was talking in Turkish and I in English. Of course with lot of sign language. We talked for over an hour that way! For the first time I felt that I was in a foreign place, but was I very happy for that. By the end of our meeting, I was exhausted, but this was one of my most memorable moments I had experience in Turkey.

Then there was my domestic routine. I recall that our first month's utility bill was late. My roommate and I had to walk down to a place called Maltepe. I had never been there before. We did not speak Turkish, neither could we find an English speaking person to tell us how to get there. However, people gave us directions when we showed them the bill. Finally, we arrived and joined a very long queue. When at last we had paid the bill, it was a triumph and we felt good about it.

Some Turkish people are even overly helpful. If you happen to ask them for directions, they will always give you some, even though they do not adequately know your destination. This made me wonder if it is the generosity in such people that makes them hesitate to say they really don't know, or if it is for fear of shame that one will think they do not know their own city? I wonder.

Photo Gallery

Last of many dinners I enjoyed with co-workers of the American Red Cross in Ankara. Here with, left Gilberto Guevara, Head of Delegetion; right, Aynur Kadihasanoglu, a project manager.

Dolmus: Also know as collective taxis, buses leave the stand whenever they are full and with no particular stops. This is the station in Ulus.

Earthquakes require more than just structural recovery from 1999. Ismit, Turkey, has much work ahead, recovering from both, physical and psychological damages from the quakes.

While in Ankara, I used to think that every Turkish man could sing. I enjoyed a lot of singing (sad love songs) in traditional Turkish restaurants and bars, as well as the traditional Turkish dances as in one of the public shows above.

I was very fortunate to make many good friends. Here I am with a friend (left) who I met on a bus. Her mother (right) used to always make me Turkish coffee when I visit them. Best of all, she gave me a Turkish name – Can (meaning "Life"). I like my Turkish name.

I used to visualize the city of Ankara's city-scape as a "big bowl", with the city center at the bottom and neighbourhoods radiating out and upwards, like this view of Oran.