There are many different kinds of men I hate which should be another post, really. But for now look at this particular kind; where they try to tell you that what ever you are feeling or thinking or saying is illogical and laugh worthy and that you are so craaazıe. This when done by just one person, I can easily dısmıss but when a group attempts ıt, I am a lıttle flustered,yes. Btw the fuckıng keys on thıs horrıd computer ıs all messed up. Like I will type a comma or dash from rote and something else comes up. What the hell is up with that, Turkey?
Anyway I will explain this later.
Adrienne Riche's words: Dream of a Common Language just makes so much sense right now.Even out of context. No one really knows English and this is hard especially if I take Taksi which I am trying my best to avoid. So today it was all tram- thank god for excellent public transportation- except for one Taxi. Plus obviously I am not pronouncing the names correctly. Then numbers! So they resort to typing on a calculator and showing me. Fine. But when I got lost multiple times, I thought of the dream of a common language and finally resorted to pointing and other forms of gesturing. I also wrote it down in big block letters and show people that now. It really isn't so bad except sometimes people go off on a roll and I listen and then just nod like sure, I understood that. Adios.
Today was a rainy day but it did not actually rain till I made it back to the Hotel. Now that it has been a week or so of staying most of these guys recognize me but there is exactly just one or two of them who I am comfy around- the rest either I am confusing some kind of cultural difference or they are seriously too friendly slash pushy. Really cannot find that slash thingy! So I constantly have a grouchy face and I am all kinds of flashing my wedding ring!!
The Museum of Innocence was the first stop today where they would not allow photography. The Museum really wont make any sense unless you have read the book. It is also the first Museum that made me cry. I really have no real grasp on why except I just felt a gulp in my throat and my eyes kept watering. Thankfully no one was around to witness this humiliation. There are a couple of things esp that broke my heart. For e.g in the book there is a passage devoted to virginity and sexism in Turkey in that period. It goes like this:
'In those days even in Istanbul's most affluent westernized circles, a young girl who 'gives herself' to a man before marriage could still expect to be judged harshly and face serious consequences. If a man tried to avoid marrying the girl and the girl in question was under eighteen years of age, an angry father might take the philanderer to court to force him to marry her.'
Somehow this sounds like Kerala. Not the father part, maybe not, but the rest.
In case 16 in the Museum are pictures of women under the title ' A few unpalatable anthropological truths'
In the case are pictures of about 25 women with their eyes crossed out with black ink. It was apparently custom in those days for newspapers to run the photographs of the violated girls with black bands over their eyes, the same device that the press used in photographs of adulteresses, rape victims, and prostitutes.
This was just all kinds of sad; so was everything else there. Maybe the sheer amount of hoarding, maybe the yearning of it all was just so disheartening.
Anyway afterwards I ate lunch at a small place next door where they understood nothing I asked so finally I resorted to good old simple point and ask from the glass case- Tea, of course, kebab and pilaf and their version of our Gulab Jamun called Kemal Pasa. Then I spotted the words ' Bookstore' so headed in and to my surprise found all kinds of crap! Mismatched earrings, paintings, books in multiple languages, and post cards but most importantly a box stacked with old photographs. Don't ask, just old photos of folks- woman in a bathing suit with a dog, a mother and daughter hugging, a woman in front of a mosque striking a dramatic pose- I don't know but I took some of them! The owner, the painter was really not into bargaining and so I got collected plays for 2 liras and then the most important of all- I got this old letter written in 1964 apparently and in Turkish! Kind of all tattered and falling apart just like the book and moth eaten sides and I guess it is a bit voyeuristic of me but I really wanted it! I want someone to now translate it for me!
Then I visited Istanbul Modern which was right next door and it was truly time consuming. I wrote down in my green book all the artists that I liked. But you know what the best surprise was and what a co incidence that too? In there was an art installation, a sort of a five minute film called- 5Ws plus 1H. It is by this artist called Fikret Atay.
The story I am currently writing is called: What Who When How and Why. And that is what the theme of this film was. In it is a woman being interrogated with her eyes covered and for each question the scarf on her eyes change color and for each question she answers ' You Know'.
But what a surprise. I will take it as a sign! I like signs.
After that, I got lost. Yeah, but finally I am back in the Hotel and so drained. Apo, later.
Anyway I will explain this later.
Adrienne Riche's words: Dream of a Common Language just makes so much sense right now.Even out of context. No one really knows English and this is hard especially if I take Taksi which I am trying my best to avoid. So today it was all tram- thank god for excellent public transportation- except for one Taxi. Plus obviously I am not pronouncing the names correctly. Then numbers! So they resort to typing on a calculator and showing me. Fine. But when I got lost multiple times, I thought of the dream of a common language and finally resorted to pointing and other forms of gesturing. I also wrote it down in big block letters and show people that now. It really isn't so bad except sometimes people go off on a roll and I listen and then just nod like sure, I understood that. Adios.
Today was a rainy day but it did not actually rain till I made it back to the Hotel. Now that it has been a week or so of staying most of these guys recognize me but there is exactly just one or two of them who I am comfy around- the rest either I am confusing some kind of cultural difference or they are seriously too friendly slash pushy. Really cannot find that slash thingy! So I constantly have a grouchy face and I am all kinds of flashing my wedding ring!!
The Museum of Innocence was the first stop today where they would not allow photography. The Museum really wont make any sense unless you have read the book. It is also the first Museum that made me cry. I really have no real grasp on why except I just felt a gulp in my throat and my eyes kept watering. Thankfully no one was around to witness this humiliation. There are a couple of things esp that broke my heart. For e.g in the book there is a passage devoted to virginity and sexism in Turkey in that period. It goes like this:
'In those days even in Istanbul's most affluent westernized circles, a young girl who 'gives herself' to a man before marriage could still expect to be judged harshly and face serious consequences. If a man tried to avoid marrying the girl and the girl in question was under eighteen years of age, an angry father might take the philanderer to court to force him to marry her.'
Somehow this sounds like Kerala. Not the father part, maybe not, but the rest.
In case 16 in the Museum are pictures of women under the title ' A few unpalatable anthropological truths'
In the case are pictures of about 25 women with their eyes crossed out with black ink. It was apparently custom in those days for newspapers to run the photographs of the violated girls with black bands over their eyes, the same device that the press used in photographs of adulteresses, rape victims, and prostitutes.
This was just all kinds of sad; so was everything else there. Maybe the sheer amount of hoarding, maybe the yearning of it all was just so disheartening.
Anyway afterwards I ate lunch at a small place next door where they understood nothing I asked so finally I resorted to good old simple point and ask from the glass case- Tea, of course, kebab and pilaf and their version of our Gulab Jamun called Kemal Pasa. Then I spotted the words ' Bookstore' so headed in and to my surprise found all kinds of crap! Mismatched earrings, paintings, books in multiple languages, and post cards but most importantly a box stacked with old photographs. Don't ask, just old photos of folks- woman in a bathing suit with a dog, a mother and daughter hugging, a woman in front of a mosque striking a dramatic pose- I don't know but I took some of them! The owner, the painter was really not into bargaining and so I got collected plays for 2 liras and then the most important of all- I got this old letter written in 1964 apparently and in Turkish! Kind of all tattered and falling apart just like the book and moth eaten sides and I guess it is a bit voyeuristic of me but I really wanted it! I want someone to now translate it for me!
Then I visited Istanbul Modern which was right next door and it was truly time consuming. I wrote down in my green book all the artists that I liked. But you know what the best surprise was and what a co incidence that too? In there was an art installation, a sort of a five minute film called- 5Ws plus 1H. It is by this artist called Fikret Atay.
The story I am currently writing is called: What Who When How and Why. And that is what the theme of this film was. In it is a woman being interrogated with her eyes covered and for each question the scarf on her eyes change color and for each question she answers ' You Know'.
But what a surprise. I will take it as a sign! I like signs.
After that, I got lost. Yeah, but finally I am back in the Hotel and so drained. Apo, later.
2 comments:
I log in to quickly update my other blog and I noticed you had posted something. Intrigued, I started reading the first travelogue. And then, the next. And then the next. I am so glad you are having a good time! :) And all this just after I've seen pictures on fb. So, I am walking down the hill with you now, and looking at those old photos with you now. Mwah kutty!
Have a great time. And if you can, find us a nice big treasure .
FIRST THINGS FIRST; YOUR OTHER BLOG? There ıs another one?? ;D
Thanks kutty!! I wıll fınd the treasure but when wıll you come and get ıt? ;)
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