A lovely taxi driver picks me up from the airport. His
broken English and my broken Greek connect us perfectly well. I am discovering
gradually that attempting to speak one’s language is a powerful connector. I
wonder if this is the reason why we connect with some from the first moment on
and not with others for long periods of time even when we speak the same
language in dictionary sense but not deep down. I suspect falling in love has
that element of speaking the same “language” or at least trying to understand
one another’s love language. Can we solve the issues of the world if we start
with caring about each other’s literal language first and move toward understanding
their “language” of understanding and defining themselves, their culture, other’s
cultures and more… Can humanity at the grass roots then hold hands together against
the greed of men, who hold power all over the world through money, political
offices, traditional confines and more?
Can olives be the binding "language" among the nations around the Aegean?
Or this shared evil eye: Can it establish friendship between Turkey and Greece once and for all?
He transfers me graciously to the hands of the hotel receptionist, who recognizes me from my previous stay in November. He is obviously in the business of tourism, but somehow I sense a genuine delight on his face even though he is not one of the very expressive receptionists that I met at this hotel. He wants to practice his English and I want to practice my crawling-phase Greek. We do well, each in our non-native language. When I finally reach my room all I want to do is collapse into bed for a few hours. After an almost comatose sleep for 3 hours, I open my eyes somewhat disoriented. I have to get up and stay awake until late to get back to routine, in addition, I have things to take care of before tomorrow.
Metropolitan Cathedral was built in 1842-1862 and is testimony to religious leaders killed by Ottoman invaders and how Greek women were enslaved into Ottoman harems.
As I am looking for the National Bank to withdraw some Euros, I hear a beautiful chorus singing, on my way toward the Mitropoleos Cathedral in Plaka. Wow, it must be the evening mass on this beautiful Sunday. I am very excited to hear some music without understanding the lyrics, all the better: I love listening to church music; the peace, the harmony, the beauty of human voice dissolving in layers always draw me to it. As long as I don’t pick up a pamphlet and understand the lyrics: The too submissive, bigger power oriented, oppressive content destroys the peace I find in that beautiful music, meditation, if you will. As I approach to it though, I notice that it doesn’t flow smoothly: it is abruptly interrupted occasionally, then comes back as if there is a turn on-turn off mechanism involved. I will soon murmur to myself “No wonder!” when I discover it was indeed turned off electrically and turned back on when needed:
The crowd during the earlier hours of the demonstration by the right wing ultra-nationalist Golden Dawn party in Athens
I am finally on the plaza. To my surprise and dismay, the music is not coming from the cathedral, out goes my meditation excitement. This is clearly some political activity, but what kind? Looking at the number of Greek flags held by every person standing around the stage at the far end of the plaza, I wonder if this is a nationalistic demonstration. I ask the young women at a table selling books right around the heart of the crowd. They are celebrating the anniversary of Turks taking Constantinople from the Byzantines. For some reason, she makes sure I understand it is not a demonstration, but a celebration. When the women ask me where I am from, I reflexively tell them I am from “Americki”, no mention of my Turkish roots…
Archbishop Damaskinos is looking over the demonstration in front of the cathedral
Last Byzantine emperor's reign was what the crowd in the demonstration was hoping they could bring back!
As I tried to keep myself at a safe difference from the lunatics across from the street, devoured this low quality but gluten free dish.
The gentleman in the middle is the one in whose hand I had the "honor" of resting my hand a tid bit too long... Maybe he was only well meaning as a father, I want to believe.
At least in Trump's rallies, there is some element of protest of him, too! In Turkey and Greece, we would be too scared to do anything like that.
Can olives be the binding "language" among the nations around the Aegean?
These thoughts will fill my mind over the next several days
more and more, but at the time being, I want to absorb as much Greek language
and culture as possible while I am here for three weeks. When I start asking
him too difficult questions about Greek grammar, he gets confused, I feel he
might be thinking, “Who is this woman, right out of the airport, with all these
weird questions…” Poor guy, recognizing he doesn’t have any idea about
conjugation, pronouns, subjects and objects, I decide “Leave him alone, Resmiye.”
I am extremely tired anyway.
He transfers me graciously to the hands of the hotel receptionist, who recognizes me from my previous stay in November. He is obviously in the business of tourism, but somehow I sense a genuine delight on his face even though he is not one of the very expressive receptionists that I met at this hotel. He wants to practice his English and I want to practice my crawling-phase Greek. We do well, each in our non-native language. When I finally reach my room all I want to do is collapse into bed for a few hours. After an almost comatose sleep for 3 hours, I open my eyes somewhat disoriented. I have to get up and stay awake until late to get back to routine, in addition, I have things to take care of before tomorrow.
Metropolitan Cathedral was built in 1842-1862 and is testimony to religious leaders killed by Ottoman invaders and how Greek women were enslaved into Ottoman harems.
As I am looking for the National Bank to withdraw some Euros, I hear a beautiful chorus singing, on my way toward the Mitropoleos Cathedral in Plaka. Wow, it must be the evening mass on this beautiful Sunday. I am very excited to hear some music without understanding the lyrics, all the better: I love listening to church music; the peace, the harmony, the beauty of human voice dissolving in layers always draw me to it. As long as I don’t pick up a pamphlet and understand the lyrics: The too submissive, bigger power oriented, oppressive content destroys the peace I find in that beautiful music, meditation, if you will. As I approach to it though, I notice that it doesn’t flow smoothly: it is abruptly interrupted occasionally, then comes back as if there is a turn on-turn off mechanism involved. I will soon murmur to myself “No wonder!” when I discover it was indeed turned off electrically and turned back on when needed:
The crowd during the earlier hours of the demonstration by the right wing ultra-nationalist Golden Dawn party in Athens
I am finally on the plaza. To my surprise and dismay, the music is not coming from the cathedral, out goes my meditation excitement. This is clearly some political activity, but what kind? Looking at the number of Greek flags held by every person standing around the stage at the far end of the plaza, I wonder if this is a nationalistic demonstration. I ask the young women at a table selling books right around the heart of the crowd. They are celebrating the anniversary of Turks taking Constantinople from the Byzantines. For some reason, she makes sure I understand it is not a demonstration, but a celebration. When the women ask me where I am from, I reflexively tell them I am from “Americki”, no mention of my Turkish roots…
Archbishop Damaskinos is looking over the demonstration in front of the cathedral
I instinctively don’t feel safe to do that here, in the
middle of this crowd when somebody hands me a pamphlet with the picture of the
last Byzantine emperor: *** I wake up to full reality instantenously. I look at
the banners, ancient Greek figures are in the middle of each banner. I am
looking around to identify a “trustworthy” face to ask more. But I am keenly
aware that my Turkish identity will not be welcome to this population, I need
to be careful. I notice again that beautiful young woman with jet black hair
with sharply trimmed bangs on her forehead outlining her beautiful enormous
dark eyes. She is leaving the core crowd now and has pamphlets that she is
distributing to the onlookers like myself.
As the hours go by, the plaza gets filled with demonstrators, who spill into the streets around the plaza.
One man sitting on a low standing wall rejects the flyer, I feel here is my guy. I pick up the flyer from her but stay with him and ask him politely to tell me what this is all about. He verifies for me that this is the nationalistic ultra-right Hellenistic party, demonstrating on the anniversary of the conquest of Istanbul by Ottomans. He has such an expression on his face I can clearly tell he wants to tell me “You don’t want to know this bullshit”. The disgust he feels is very clear and the same as I do. This crowd is not one, whose “language” I will ever be able to want to learn or understand. Neither will they mine or his and other Greeks’ that I had the honor of meeting all over the world. What to do then? Is there a way?...
As the hours go by, the plaza gets filled with demonstrators, who spill into the streets around the plaza.
One man sitting on a low standing wall rejects the flyer, I feel here is my guy. I pick up the flyer from her but stay with him and ask him politely to tell me what this is all about. He verifies for me that this is the nationalistic ultra-right Hellenistic party, demonstrating on the anniversary of the conquest of Istanbul by Ottomans. He has such an expression on his face I can clearly tell he wants to tell me “You don’t want to know this bullshit”. The disgust he feels is very clear and the same as I do. This crowd is not one, whose “language” I will ever be able to want to learn or understand. Neither will they mine or his and other Greeks’ that I had the honor of meeting all over the world. What to do then? Is there a way?...
I thank him and turn around to get a better sense of the
crowd. That is when I see that large banner at the entrance of the plaza and
this one is in English! Two words: STOP ISLAM. Wow, this movement has a
homophobia component attached to it, too, which I am not surprised to discover.
Although, I am not fond of even moderate Islam since even in its moderate form Islam
clearly discriminates against women and limits women’s progress and liberation,
I disdain othering Islam in political context as well. All of a sudden, I have
a flashback from Donald Trump’s rallies, which has been poured down our throats
in the USA for the last year. Trump works on powerless people’s need to gain
power, who are in fact made into powerless individuals by the billionaire likes
of Trump, go figure the oxymoron on who these people support to feel powerful.
This party is working on the same social psychology principal: When I look
around I see working class people all around and on the plaza, who are
interested in bringing Byzantium back! Isn’t it exactly the same social psychology
Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s religious party’s strategy when he works on low socioeconomic
class’ need to bring back the “Ottoman glory” even at the expense of destroying
Gezi Park and the natural treasures of the land of Anatolia?
Homophobia revealed by Golden Dawn ultra-nationalistic party of Greece!
I make up my mind that I will stay here this evening until
this event ends and get a better understanding of what right wing and ultra-nationalism
are doing in Greece. I walk back to my hotel room, pick up my lap top and
camera and situate myself back at the Metropol café. As I eat my dinner, I will
be a subtle spectator as I ask people innocently what is going on the plaza. I
ask another woman with jet black hair what this is about since she doesn’t know
I already asked the same question to several other people. Her English is poor,
but she does tell me that the black T-shirts on many of the men have a text on
them that means “I love my country”, which is supposedly the name of the
political party organizing this event.
http://greece.greekreporter.com/2015/09/17/greeces-golden-dawn-leader-assumes-political-responsibility-for-rappers-murder/ Notice if there is any resemblance between Hitler's party and this one with their acts and symbols..
Passionate men are agitating some 200 people that are
gathered on the small plaza in front of the cathedral with some 200 onlookers
like me. Although I don’t understand what the agitators exactly are pouring
onto the crowd, I can tell what the theme is with numerous Ellas, Ellada
(different names for Greece), your children, your families, we lost, Turkia,
long live Greece, in Istanbul, we are proud, why are we working, stop islam, negative
comments that I can’t understand regarding the “guests” most likely referring
to the Syrian migrants, etc: tying today’s problems to losing the Byzantine
Empire to the imperial Ottomans. Their agitation is frequently self-interrupted
with slogans that their small crowd excitedly joins in with their voices and
applause.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/greece/11548387/What-is-the-Golden-Dawn-trial-about.html Their slogan is: Blood, honor, golden dawn (At least they are honest about their intended blood shed)
As the speech goes on, torches appear in the hands of a
quarter of the crowd. “Romantic and nostalgic”, I murmur to myself. The crowd
is invited to join in some songs and marches. To my surprise, the woman at the
next table with jet black hair and fiery lipstick is singing along with her
friend that now joined her. I am glad
that she doesn’t understand English well now that I am typing up my
observations as I eat my dinner. Finally, some additional smoke effect is
created by whatever they use. Now the crowd is lit by torches and breathing
industrial scale incense. Well staged, I think to myself. This is apparently the end of the propaganda.
Now they are invited to head to the downtown plaza in front of the parliament.
As they leave, I tell the waiter I’d like to pay and ask him
as well what this was about since my neighbor has already left. He is
dismissive and tells me something to the effect “they are a bunch of lunatics,
my ears were eaten away for three hours now”. Good this young man understands
politics with more sense, I am happy to observe. As I leave, I see that the
priest that came to the same café earlier for a quick dinner is standing in
front of the cathedral. I decide to go into the cathedral for my belated
meditation. Alas, there is construction in the church, no meditation place at
this point. As I am leaving, the priest is still in front of the church.
The gentleman in the middle is the one in whose hand I had the "honor" of resting my hand a tid bit too long... Maybe he was only well meaning as a father, I want to believe.
As I greet him with “Kalispera”, he hands out his hand and
first holds my hand “Hmm, interesting” can’t help wondering about clergy and
sexual abuse scandals and how this plays out in Greece. I let him be and we
start chatting in Greek, my hand in his while he is holding it tight. I tell
him I am from Americki but that my grandparents were born in Crete.
I saw only a few hundred supporters of Golden Dawn party at the Cathedral Plaza, what about the tens of thousands Erdogan brings into the squares after all his corruption in Turkey?
I feel like my hand was in his for long enough, but he continues holding it as tightly as he started. I ask him what this meeting was about. He is the most honest, he says this party Golden Dome, is the far right small ultra-nationalistic party in Greece, and is comfortable to say that “they are nuts!” because they are yearning for the Byzantine times. By this time, I manage to get my hand out of his for a bit, but with another question, he grabs my hand again. My goodness, it is almost like “for every answer I hold your hand for as long as I provide an answer to you”. I let him, he is as old as to be my father, and besides, he is a pleasant man with more or less good politics. But a question bothers me still: These nuts are the small minority in this society, but the nuts in Turkey going after the same yearning have been the majority for at least a decade. What does that tell about where Turkey is going?
I saw only a few hundred supporters of Golden Dawn party at the Cathedral Plaza, what about the tens of thousands Erdogan brings into the squares after all his corruption in Turkey?
I feel like my hand was in his for long enough, but he continues holding it as tightly as he started. I ask him what this meeting was about. He is the most honest, he says this party Golden Dome, is the far right small ultra-nationalistic party in Greece, and is comfortable to say that “they are nuts!” because they are yearning for the Byzantine times. By this time, I manage to get my hand out of his for a bit, but with another question, he grabs my hand again. My goodness, it is almost like “for every answer I hold your hand for as long as I provide an answer to you”. I let him, he is as old as to be my father, and besides, he is a pleasant man with more or less good politics. But a question bothers me still: These nuts are the small minority in this society, but the nuts in Turkey going after the same yearning have been the majority for at least a decade. What does that tell about where Turkey is going?
At least in Trump's rallies, there is some element of protest of him, too! In Turkey and Greece, we would be too scared to do anything like that.
As I leave the plaza, I am pleased that I am exposed to a
right wing demonstration in Greece in addition to the left wing one I had witnessed
last November. I must say, I didn’t like what I observed tonight, one single
bit, just as I wouldn’t have had I ever found myself in an AKP (the Turkish
religious party) demonstration or in a Trump rally. I will feel sad in the next
several days when I have the opportunity to talk to very trustworthy Greek friends
of mine that the current left-wing government that came to power with great
promises is not doing well at all to satisfy its people’s needs and preferences,
either. The world is indeed going through a difficult time of transformation.
http://www.sharing.org/information-centre/articles/uniting-people-world
A very lovely entry on how we need to unite around helping the world and helping all of us without any divisiveness. That is the only way to get rid of likes of Golden Dawn, AKP's Tayyip Erdogan, and Republican Party's Donald Trump.
http://www.sharing.org/information-centre/articles/uniting-people-world
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