Day of travel, woke up with excitement. Although I will go
to the lands I know now, both coasts of the Aegean, where I am heading, I still
can’t help feeling this excitement every time I go to a place that is out of my
routine. Anticipation of seeing the people I know already and care about is
part of that excitement. I am also anticipating to meet new people that I will get
to know and learn from. I think, this is always the most important aspect of my
travels: Human connection, renewed or anew… The beauty of the land, the
history, the art, all somewhat secondary and still meaningful in the context of
human connection and interactions.
The history and architecture in Archaic Agora in Athens
Does this remind anybody of Notre Dame at all? Not a good replicate: Cathedral.... in Old Town Athens
An old old water fountain now dry...
Beautiful architecture resisting millennia...
The history and architecture in Archaic Agora in Athens
I read quite a few books, watched quite a few documentaries,
and listened to Greek on “learn the Greek Language” CDs day in day out for
couple of months now getting ready for my Fulbright scholarship period that I
will spend in Athens for a week and Crete for two weeks. My colleagues from
Athens and Crete and I along with my colleague from Yale University put in
quite many an hour into the projects we have been working on since last year.
All good people; with great enthusiasm to make a difference on earth for the
good of children and families.
Does this remind anybody of Notre Dame at all? Not a good replicate: Cathedral.... in Old Town Athens
Since my flight is not until early afternoon, I can continue
with my Saturday routine, walk downtown, do yoga (my favorite weekend starter),
cruise through the farmer’s market and walk back home. It is a beautiful day
and Iowa City is delightfully lush with the rains of the last week. I call my
dear chosen uncle, the father of my best friend, who lives in Istanbul. He is
90+ and gradually failing toward his final days. I heard after his last
mini-stroke he has difficulty finding words in conversation. What a pity! A man
of brilliant intelligence, humor and story-telling, now is having difficulty
finding the words he once had the greatest talent of playing with. I dial their number as I walk toward downtown and savoring
the lush green pierced with all shades of reds, purples, yellows, blues of the
flowers my fellow Iowans are busy planting in their back and front yards a like,
wait for his wife to pick up the phone.
The Dome of the Cathedral... in Old Town Athens
After talking with her a bit, he picks up the phone. It is true, he is having a hard time finding the right words, and even comprehending some of what I say. I give up asking him questions that are clearly difficult for him to carry on a conversation with. I tell him about my planned visit to Istanbul just to see him. He is happy, I can tell, he chuckles in delight. I go further and tell him “Don’t you go anywhere finding a new lover now, we have a date OK?”. I can’t believe my ears, he cracks up with a bright laughter, just like he used to when I made similar jokes.
The Dome of the Cathedral... in Old Town Athens
After talking with her a bit, he picks up the phone. It is true, he is having a hard time finding the right words, and even comprehending some of what I say. I give up asking him questions that are clearly difficult for him to carry on a conversation with. I tell him about my planned visit to Istanbul just to see him. He is happy, I can tell, he chuckles in delight. I go further and tell him “Don’t you go anywhere finding a new lover now, we have a date OK?”. I can’t believe my ears, he cracks up with a bright laughter, just like he used to when I made similar jokes.
An old old water fountain now dry...
Within the safety of our father-daughter relationship and
the secular nature of the sociocultural section of Turkish society we belonged
to, whenever I made a reference to his handsome figure, how having “given up”
finding a partner to my taste I demanded affectionately him to keep strong and
healthy so that I could join his harem, he never failed to crack up slightly flirtatiously.
It was so refreshing that he still had that capacity to feel and get excited
like a man in the safety of our traditional joking conversations. I bet for a
second, it took him to the past 5-6 years when he was so healthy in his late
80s, he would carry my luggage across the house to the elevator every time I
visited them in Istanbul for just one evening, which we all cherished like
stolen moments from our history together.
Beautiful architecture resisting millennia...
As we hung up, his voice was energized, I could see the
smile on his face across the thousands of miles between where we stood in the
moment. I thought, “this is good for this moment”, what else can we expect for
at this time from him? I wonder if I will be able to make him chuckle like this
when I visit him in Istanbul on June 20th, just for 12 hours, but
better than nothing. I wonder if I will be able to get him to talk about his
deeper feelings, what he thinks about his pending death, leaving his loved ones
especially his beloved wife behind. I recall, one time when we had had a very
special private moment together, him telling me “I am ready to go my dearest, I
am holding on just for her” referring to his wife. I had to fight back my tears
like never before with this simple but profound statement. Since then, he had a
hyponatremic dehydration episode, a myocardial infarction, and a mini-stroke,
and the wonderful man is still holding on. What a precious thing it must be to
have this type of a relationship, lasting close to 60 years and keeps you tied
to this world, just for the sake of love and your beloved…
Such elegance in sculpture and art
When I hang up, tears are rolling down my cheeks, I miss him, I miss seeing him and his wife together, shrunk physically, but shining as beautifully as ever when they hold hands, when they touch each other’s back or arm, when they look at each other’s face, when they dissolve in each other’s eyes, when his wife trembles with fear when somebody makes even a slight comment on the change downhill in his health… My uncle still making efforts to calm down his wife’s fears by doing everything to look composed and “healthy”. How I love them and when he goes, how I will miss not only him desperately, but also how they were together, in love till their last breath.
When I hang up, tears are rolling down my cheeks, I miss him, I miss seeing him and his wife together, shrunk physically, but shining as beautifully as ever when they hold hands, when they touch each other’s back or arm, when they look at each other’s face, when they dissolve in each other’s eyes, when his wife trembles with fear when somebody makes even a slight comment on the change downhill in his health… My uncle still making efforts to calm down his wife’s fears by doing everything to look composed and “healthy”. How I love them and when he goes, how I will miss not only him desperately, but also how they were together, in love till their last breath.
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