CESME TURKEY 2018 - 5 - KINAGECESI: FESTIVITIES BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY

What a prelude… After the introduction over the previous four entries to this blog, now I may start the story of the wedding! Our dearest Gulce, a 28 year-old beauty, the only child of Suzan and Levent is getting married to Oguz, a lovely young man, head over heels in love with Gulce!

Her father Levent will bring our dear Gulce to the wedding ceremony on the day of the wedding on a board walk on the water

Gulce is the second youngest in the group of 5 children The Coluk Combalak produced. Interestingly, she is the only female grandchild on his father’s side. You can imagine with what love and attention she was raised. She was a relatively small child in her toddler years that made Suzan worry about how tall she would become. Being her pediatrician, I had made a comment that there were relatively short people in Suzan’s family and there might be a genetic determination regarding Gulce’s ultimate height. Boy, was I wrong in that prediction! Gulce now is a 5’7’’ (167 cm) beauty, unusually tall for a Turkish woman…

The wind of Aya Yorgi is blowing away our Gulce's hair and gown alike when she is getting ready for the formal photo-taking 

She studied law, joined a law firm in Istanbul, and within a year, teamed up with some colleagues to start their own law firm as partners. Her apartment in Istanbul for at least the last 5-6 years has become the gathering place for all our kids, as we could see from facebook posts. Ekin coming from London, Zeynep from the US, and Umut from Germany or Austria in the past and now from Mexico, we knew, would find a bed under Gulce’s roof, with unlimited arrival allowed; at any time of the day and night. That you call a family, don’t you? Ekin and Gulce are one year apart in age and they grew up with Aysegul’s care as day care buddies. Thus, it is understandable that their camaraderie would turn into sisterhood. What is most impressive is that although Umut is 4-5 years older than both of them, being the son of the house where Ekin and Gulce came for day care, he became the older brother for both younger girls.

 

Ekin and Gulce with their dear Aunt Aysegul, who took care of them many years

Umut is in fact the same age as my daughter . As a result, they bonded as peers in a different way, although both of them are as strongly bonded with the younger three, espcecially since all of them became fully grown adults, carrying on the banner of our Coluk Combalak culture into the future.  It is so heartwarming to watch them relate to one another in such a relaxed manner. You never know which girl is going to be on Umut’s lap at any given time, or jump over his shoulders to play horseback. Baris is the youngest of the five, but we have plenty of stories about him, too, that will come out in due time.

Gulce visiting Ekin in London in 2013 

The day before the wedding, Levent and Suzan picked me up from my mother’s apartment to go to Cesme. Zeynep and her boyfriend Mike are to join us later in the evening via Ephesus since it is Mike’s first visit to Turkey. My dear brother Mehmet is showing them around as he does with every friend we bring to Turkey from Iowa City. We arrive at the Smart Rooms Luxury motel that Suzan reserved rooms for us for two nights. It is not luxury, but who cares, the Aegean is lying provocatively before my eyes from our 3rd story room. I am disappointed to learn that households of Yildiray-Aysegul and Saniye-Mehmet are not going to be with us the night before the wedding. Oh well, we will catch up the next day.  Levent’s youngest brother Gursel and his wife are with us along with some of Suzan’s friends, who are originally from Cesme. We learn that Gulce, Oguz and perhaps Oguz’s family members are staying at a different hotel in Alacati. Allacati was a lovely fishing village of old. In the last several decades, especially Istanbulite high society made it famous. It is now a gentrified, huge resort town. However, it still carries the unique characteristics of the old and authentic, which makes it very charming.

 

Old House Hotel that has kept all the good and authentic of a truly old Alacati house in the conversion process

 

After settling down, as my friends are having a late lunch, I sneak out and go to the beach. My Aegean, The Water, how I miss its salt, its calm and fervor, its energy, its elegance, its embrace more than anything.

I let myself into the bosom of the Aegean. One stroke, two, three, lost count, heading toward Chios, which is right across where we are. At night, we will be able to see the lights of our neighbor islanders. I swim for about half hour horizontally about a quarter mile from the beach. So meditative...

Chios from the beach at our hotel

When I get out and start walking on the beach, I notice all the debris, pick up one or two, but it is endless, all over the place. The waiters at the bar are helpful, they give me a garbage bag. In another half hour, I pick up a 30 gallon bagful of plastic and metal recyclable material off the beautiful sand. I can now go to my room and take a peaceful shower. I am excited about the evening. We will go to a still authentic Cesme village that is on the water, where summer house owners and the local population are still in balance, supporting one another. The hotel staff helps us rent a van that will accommodate all of us, about a dozen adults. Suzan’s friend Birgul, who is a local has reserved a table for us at a said-to-be beautiful restaurant, Gokkusagi (rainbow) facing the west in Ciftlikkoy (Farm village in English).

Ciftlikkoy (Farm Village) in Cesme where we had our wedding-eve dinner against a beautiful sunset

As soon as we arrive at the restaurant, I am beyond this world; right across the water, fishing boats drawing a beautiful skyline against the Izmir Bay sky turning scarlet then to orange, to pink, to beige, to brown and finally black moment by moment as I stroll on the promenade: Walking meditation couldn’t get better than this. Throughout my meditation, I not only savor the colors, the sounds, and all the beauty around me, but also "pray" for all my loved ones including those at the restaurant, those, who haven't arrived, yet, all members of my Coluk Combalak, my extended family, and chosen family members that are scattered all around the world... May all of us be free of any conflict, any fear, and despair, and infliction. May all of us find love and joy in life and open our hearts with compassion to all that cross our path.

Skyline at Ciftlikkoy when the sun is all gone 

Meze after meze made with organic, local produce of Ciftlikkoy, we devour non-stop along with sips of raki… Was food this good always, or has it reached levels of delicacy I cannot recognize, in the last year? In Turkey raki is the owner of such festive dinner tables. As the saying goes “Raki doesn’t sit in the stomach as it does in the bottle”. You start either singing, or dancing, or both. And that’s what we do… First start singing, then dancing and finally two Roma musicians approach our table and the festivity reaches its peaks.

 

Suzan, the mother of the bride is also enjoying the sunset before the food arrives on wedding-eve

Roma people in Turkey almost exclusively own the "nomad musicians" industry. These musicians, again almost exclusively males roam the areas of towns where restaurants like ours are lined up along a street, waterfront, or any historical neighborhood. They go from table to table, play their music, mostly along with singing, encourage the customers join them with some dancing involved and ask for tips. When they go for their tips, they usually pick one person at the table that seems to be the most well-to-do man in the group with a perceived/assumed thick wallet. In doing so, the musicians usually recite or sing a stanza of a poem or song that encourages the picked out guy take out his wallet and give them a hefty tip! The diners’ job is to delay the tipping as much as they can since the moment the tip is handed out, the music at your table ends instantaneously and the musicians move on to the next table for additional tips. 

Gulce's uncle Gursel, standing with a white jacket ends up paying most of the tip at the end of a music feast from our Roma musicians

Our musicians are very crafty in finding out the thickest wallet: they pick out Gursel, who happens to be the tallest and most sturdy man at the table, who is the CEO of a company. Despite initial protests, being the uncle of the bride, who hasn’t arrived, yet, he submits to all the pressure and our musicians leave very happily, their pockets full… Later on, Zeynep and Mike join us. We will have to wait until after breakfast tomorrow to see Gulce and Oguz. Another round of mezes and other food are ordered for them. Laughter is abound, I almost feel like, I have received all the therapy I need for a year to deal with the budget cuts and all at the hospital in Iowa City. 

 
Looking at the concentration on my face, I must be taking a selfie of myself and Suzan, in Ciftlikkoy

We finally load into the van that brought us here and enjoy the memories of the evening that will be added to the chain of many others, soon… When we are back at our hotel, the breeze from the Aegean is the most loving caress touching my face, arms, and legs. It is past midnight, we’d better go to bed to have energy for tomorrow’s festivities. Tomorrow, Levent’s sister Gunes, brother Ibrahim and his wife and one of his sons, and finally his twin Bulent and his wife will also join us at the hotel to go to Aya Yorgi cove where the wedding will be held. Aya Yorgi is the Turkish/Greek translation for St. George, Having turned its back to the wild Aegean winds, Aya Yorgi has been a place of promise for me to serenity and peace with no fail. I can begin to anticipate the wonderful reunion with it and the memories embedded with that serene body of Water. 

 

Aya Yorgi at sunset right after the wedding ceremony took place, we are now ready to start enjoying the dinner, the music and dance.

 

An unforgettable evening with "dost"s celebrating Gulce's milestone in life: Kinagecesi, although Gulce and Oguz are not with us, we are happy anyway... 

CESME TURKEY 2018 - 4 - COLUK COMBALAK EMERGING OUT OF THE RUBBLE OF POLITICAL CHAOS IN TURKEY

Before The Coluk Combalak emerged out of our activist movement, Turkey went through an extremely traumatic period: Police and military regularly attacked campus demonstrations, local and regional protests, killing innocent unarmed people, young and old to give the impression to the society that demonstrators were causing trouble and all this chaos, when in fact the state agencies were the ones harboring violence to crash public attempts to freely express opinions including criticism of the government.

 

Police and military circling demonstrators before 1980 military coup

 

Police agencies were full of saboteurs, who were attending some of these demonstrations and starting the first violent act leading to panic, chaos, and bilateral shootings at times. During the years of 1977-1980, we saw many massacres conducted by governmental armed agencies on campuses and provincial squares.

1977 May 1st massacre that killed 34 demonstrators: CIA involvement was claimed in the shootings 

One such near-massacre happened at Ege University campus. We were attending a demonstration on campus organized on the anniversary day of Kahraman Maras massacre of 1978, which had killed over 100 Alevis. Two factions at odds with each other started arguing over something trivial even before the demonstration started. There was no indication of violence let alone use of arms. We were all patiently waiting for the tension to resolve.
 

Although a newer internet photograph, this shows how chaotic police made peaceful demonstrations in Turkey: It was no different if not worse in 1970s

 

All of a sudden, the crowd around me started running. Not knowing why, I joined in with my 20 year-old self perplexed with the "bzzzz, bzzzz" sounds, the cause of which I wasn't able to explain.... It wasn't until one of my friends fell with a scream with one of the bzzz'ings that I understood, the police were shooting at us to kill us all, the crowd of students, aged 18-25 at the most !!! We hadn't done anything violent, we were there to simply protest the atrocities that took place in the country day in day out. 

We probably carried our friend who  lost one of his kidneys, like these demonstrators recently did in some other country

We grabbed my friend, put him on a passing by bus to be taken to a hospital and continued running toward the road to get out of campus. Police already had a large circle set up in the periphery of campus; we were all picked up and taken to the nearest police station and thrown into a cold, dark cell in the basement of the station. Although, this was my only encounter with police brutality of the time, it was traumatic enough that continued haunting me for years. My friend lost one of his kidneys, he was emotionally crippled, never attending any other demonstration at least for the next two decades that I continued living in Turkey. Although we knew he survived his physical injuries, he just disappeared off the face of the earth. I hope he has emotionally recovered, too.

My then-husband also suffered from 1980 coup just because he was one of the founders of a cultural center: The government didn't like anything that enlightened the masses 

My daughter's father was arrested in 1980 immediately after the military coup and jailed without any trial for one month just because he was one of the founding members of the cultural center in his home town from several years back. Cultural centers in Turkey at the time took youth off the streets, helped them attain the habit of reading, and become community leaders. They almost remind me now of "Big Brother-Big Sister" organizations in the US, young people learned from the more mature ones how to become an altruistic community organizer and leader. The government hated these centers since the youth members of these centers were not submissive, their voice could not easily be silenced. After a month of imprisonment, when they finally tried my husband, he was released since they had found no evidence of crime in the center: However, the morning of the 1980 military coup, the military tribunal had shut down all cultural centers across the country along with the one my husband was a member of. It was all about intimidation, crushing 1^st amendment rights, and eliminating the nevi of cultural and political development and transformation.

Levent with his wife Suzan and the bride-to-become Gulce, their daughter in Istanbul in 2014 

Others have not been that fortunate. My friend Levent was pulled out of his college campus at Ege University where he was studying Industrial Engineering and locked up, not to be tried for 4.5 years. Those were the days, under military rule, innocent people, who had committed no crime but expressing their opinions could be imprisoned for that long without trial!!! Who would know during Levent’s unjust imprisonment he would meet another young and equally intelligent man dedicated to justice for all and that serendipitous encounter would eventually lead to The Coluk Combalak. Yildiray, who was expelled from medical school due to his imprisonment when he was only three years away from becoming a physician was to become another male pillar of our Coluk Combalak in the making, without any of us knowing it at the time. Fate would bring Mehmet, a math teacher by training and Levent to contact through their job and the male makers of Coluk COmbalak would be complete in the early 1990s.

Levent, Yildiray, and Mehmet, the three remaining first generation male members of Coluk Combalak: Mehmet finds himself in Godfather role, imposed upon him by his two and only disciples... 

When I graduated from medical school in 1983, I went to a rural coastal town Burhaniye to practice as a general practitioner. In 1984, my then-husband Zeki graduated from college and followed me to Burhaniye, where my daughter Zeynep was born on a lovely spring day on March 11^th, 1985 as a Pisces, who would know she would become a textbook definition of her zodiac sign!  When my husband was called in for his abbreviated mandatory military duty, I packed my daughter along with me and moved to Izmir, my home town, to start residency in pediatrics. When my husband joined us in a few months, we moved to a spacious apartment in Bornova Izmir, which we would call home for not only ourselves but for some of our friends, too, including Suzan and Levent.

Suzan and Levent from the wedding weekend; Levent wearing my hat 

That is when in late 1980s, we started re-connecting with our old friends like Alp, my dear high school and medical school buddy and his then-wife Elif; Levent and others. That is when Levent proposed to Suzan in our kitchen with a subtle "Hey, get us an apartment in this building, would you?" That is when my husband Zeki, through Levent was connected to Mehmet, because both Levent and Mehmet were working at the same pharmaceutical company, although Levent in Izmir, Mehmet in Balikesir. Levent had helped my husband to be hired by the same company.

Levent and Zeki, my daughter's father in a photograph from their pharmaceutical company days

Mehmet was married to Saniye, who was a high school teacher. They both came from the activist culture of the time and Mehmet had also had his share of being locked up in Ankara just because of engaging in the campus demonstrations of the time. We went to visit Saniye and Mehmet in the spring of 1990 when their daughter and first child was 10-11 months old, who would become my dearest Ekin in the years to come. Our connection was instantaneous as if we were friends looking for each other for decades.
 

Ekin, Saniye and Mehmet in 2013 during the first Coluk Combalak gathering 

However, societal context was not providing us with much breathing space. The political circumstances of the 1970s had set the tone in the society toward Turko-Islamist radicalism. In 1993, for instance, the radical Muslims would set fire on the Madimak Hotel Aziz Nesin a progressive protest author and his like-minded artist friends, mostly Alevi intellectuals, who were attending a cultural festival in Sivas, the epicenter of the Alevi sect in Turkey. The Turko-Islamist mob literally meant to and did kill 35 progressive people just because their thoughts and beliefs were not parallel to theirs.

 

35 people, mostly Alevi intellectuals were killed during the Sivas Massacre when Turko-Islamist mob set fire to Hotel Madımak on July 2, 1993

 

Alevis, being the most progressive sect in Islam, treating women and men as equals, allowing all social contact between men and women were considered by the radical sects of Islam not even being Muslims. As a result, radical Muslim assailants attacked the hotel, reminiscent of 9/11, at a much smaller scale. Their goal specifically was to kill Aziz Nesin, who was a world renowned author and wrote political satire that reached all corners of the country.

 

The killers of Sivas Massacre retained 8 lawyers, all of whom were representatives from AKP, the then-on-the-rise and current Islamist political party ruling Turkey

 

As the firefighters were trying to evacuate the hotel and to save the hotel residents including numerous top intellectuals of the country, a police officer shot at Aziz Nesin, who was on the ladder, leaving his hotel room. Luckily he missed, and although it was documented as the police officer was aiming at the author, no conviction came out of this event. Those were the days in Turkey and unfortunately nothing much changed. 

 

Just recently, AKP tortured the town of Sirnak in the Kurdish region of Turkey with a siege that lasted  82 days and left the city under rubble

What has remained stable in our lives has been strong family ties and support, strong friendships, being dedicated to communal existence, and giving our best to our children. When 1990s rolled around, the two members of Coluk Combalak-to-become were out of prison after their first trial following a brutal 4.5 years of unjust imprisonment, we were all professionals, and serendipitously gravitated to Camkiran, Bornova neighborhood:

Aysegul, Yildiray, and Umut at Levent and Suzan's summer house during a Coluk Combalak gathering of late

Levent and Suzan were already there having purchased their home. We rented an apartment 2 blocks from theirs. a few months after our visit to Balikesir Mehmet and Saniye moved to Izmir and naturally gravitated to where Zeki and Levent lived. Finally, when Yildiray and Aysegul had to leave Karsiyaka, an apartment in the same building with Levent and Suzan completed the circle and with Levent playing a pivotal role in this, the nucleus Coluk Combalak started shaping up. The rest of the history of Coluk Combalak is one of a unique story as will unfold in this blog in the next 5-6 years.

My dearest Jeannie, who became my female soul mate in the last 5 years taught me how to ride a bike at age 54 among many other things!!! With you, I continue to grow Jeannie...

I belong to multiple cultural units, my core family, my high school friends, my meditation group in Iowa City, my Turkish-American friends in the US, among others. What I experienced with The Coluk Combalak surpasses any connection that one may experience in life. I wish every young family to experience this communal experience that may become a life long family for all to cherish. I am in bliss to see that our children, who are now at an age where we were when we bonded are appreciating this if not as much as we did, but almost more so....

That is what every member of Coluk Combalak has done for one another and for all through the last 30 years... I bow in gratitude before all of you coluks and combalaks...

 

CESME TURKEY 2018 - 3 - SEEDS OF TWO COCUK COMBALAK MEMBERS CREATED IN CRETE

I have to start with my family to lay out the roots of The Coluk Combalak. This will connect me as one of the members to Levent, the father of the bride, Gulce, who is getting married in Cesme, Turkey this summer. Levent has also been the pivotal center pole of The Coluk Combalak at least regarding its foundation.

This is my "bigger than life" friend Levent, with whom I have three generations of connection starting with our grandmothers

 

My ancestors were Cretan Muslims, who were forced to migrate to Turkey on one of the population exchange waves at the turn of the last century that started before WWI and continued until 1920s. They were from Xhania on Crete and were settled along the Aegean coast. My maternal grandmother, who was an infant upon arrival to Turkey, came from Ottoman lineage, whose father and grandfather were Muslim clerics at the madrasa in Xhania, most likely sent to Crete to help Cretan peasants convert to Islam in the process of "senlendirme".

Ottoman "lands" in yellow, Crete in red during the height of Ottoman Empire in 1600s

"Senlendirme" was a term for Islamization of the lands Ottomans conquered and invaded that translates as "happy-making". It never changes how imperialists and anti-democratic rulers tend to use positive or at least neutral terms for torturous acts in hopes to make their ignorant subservient swallow a bitter pill: Remember how water boarding, which is another name for torture, was presented to the American public for a long time. That is what Ottomans were doing as well. This process was certainly not free from massacres:

A  massacre in Xhania
                                                                              Ottomans conquered Crete during the Cretan War of 1645-1669. The revolt of 1770 in Sfakia, Cretan Independence uprising of 1821and the subsequent uprisings were harshly suppressed by the invading Ottomans and led to the execution of several bishops, regarded as ringleaders. After Greece achieved its independence in 1830, the Christian Cretans' aim was union with Greece. A contentious series of wars and revolts led to international powers forcing the Ottomans leave the island in 1898. Some muslim Cretans left the island right around that time, some after Crete's union with Greece in 1908, and finally the rest compulsorily exchanged for the Greek Christians of Anatolia under the terms of Lausanne Treaty in 1923. The "Turko"s that were forced to migrate to Turkey were not actually Turks. As three of my grandparents were, they were all Cretan-Greek peasants that came from a lineage that betrayed their countrymen for Ottoman incentives! You see, I can’t say, I am too proud of my ancestors: Scores of Greeks were not only not submitting to Ottomans, but were also fighting against those who had invaded their beloved island and dying for that cause. My ancestors on the other hand were either on the butchering side or joining a small minority of Greek Cretans and betraying their land and their countrymen!

Beautiful Xhania historic town center where my ancestors came from

As a result, the loyalists understandably labeled them "Turko", which was and still is a derogatory term in Greece and Greek. After several generations, all Muslim Greeks came to feel and identify with Turko identity even if they arrived in Turkey speaking not a single word of Turkish at adolescent ages. My father's lineage was called Temesukakis and my mother's lineage, Stelyaris.  Temesukaki Mehmet married Resmiye, my paternal grandmother, and Stelyari Mustafa married my maternal grandmother Sakire to produce 5 and 7 children, respectively, two of them being my mother Melek and my father Ibrahim.

My father's oldest aunt Zekiye, sitting in black, her son Mithat and his sister Emine Nevin (in black) and his wife Fatma Suheyla standing: Husnu on his grandmother's lap is over 70 years old in 2018

The collaborating Cretan Greeks, who became Turkos through decades, were in fact financially solid in Crete. They had land, they had agricultural businesses, they had homes. As a result, at the time of population exchange the corresponding government was to provide the immigrants with equivalent resources, land, home, etc. Thus, my maternal grandmother's side had so much land, the farm my grandmother inherited had three creeks running through it. My paternal side also was in good shape. That allowed them to support their neighbors with the extra they had based on their religious beliefs. One such event is when my father's oldest maternal aunt Fazilet and paternal uncle Ahmet sponsored the circumcision celebration of a neighborhood boy.

My father's oldest maternal aunt Fazilet and paternal uncle Ahmet, the sitting elder woman and man in black at the circumcision celebration of a neighborhood boy.

Around the same time another family arrived from Crete, from which a young girl named Melek would grow to become friends with my grandmother Resmiye, after whom I was named, neither one of them knowing that their friendship would lead to an at least four generations of friendships. Both of them had sons, who became friends through their apprenticeship in carpentry. Of these two, Ibrahim would become my father and Muharrem the father of Levent. Serendipitously, Levent and his twin Bulent and I were born in the same year! We never knew Levent would become the pivotal person in the foundation of The Coluk Combalak.
 

My family with my grandmother Resmiye during the circumcision celebration for my two brothers, when I was 8 (51 years ago) and my mother only 24 (she was engaged at 14, married at 15, had three children before 23) 

Our fathers both had carpentry shops in the same area in Izmir, their friendship flourished through their youth. My father married when he was 28 another Melek (translates as Angel in Turkish) and another Cretan-Turkish woman, 13 years his junior. Muharrem married, Pembe (translates as Pink in Turkish), the daughter of a Croatian Muslim immigrant family. Soon, the two women became friends, too, although Aunt Pembe was considerably older than my mother. My earliest memories about this friendship is from Bayrakli, Izmir, the old Greek town at the very bottom of Izmir Bay. By old, I mean old, since Bayrakli was settled for 5000 years, no less. The center of town was adorned by grand but subtle mansions of the old, some up to 200 years old. This is where we would get off the mini-bus that would bring us to Bayrakli from where we lived. Neither family had a car at the time, nor any of the middle class families of the time in Turkey. 

Levent's mother and father, the Cretan Muharrem, blond and blue eyed, Croatian Pembe dark complexioned

Muharrem and Pembe with their five kids lived in a two story house at the time surrounded with a beautiful courtyard circled with colorful flower beds and pots with herbs and patio tomato plants among others... Although the outside of the house itself, was not that attractive even to my child eyes, the inside was a heaven. After my grandmother Resmiye's two storied, falling down house, this was the first house on two stories that I had ever been to. Climbing up and down the stairs between the main floor and the second floor being a game in and of itself. They had five kids, two of which were twins, who were my age. All I remember from that household was laughter, story-telling, kindness, and warmth. We kids would play with no boundaries in their courtyard, where I would find absolute freedom. We would also over-hear all kinds of stories about Uncle Muharrem's forgetfulness, lack of geographic direction, all put into benevolent jokes. No wonder, there was so much laughter in that house, no wonder that family left nothing in my heart but all positive implicit memories.

Uncle Muharrem working in the gardens shortly before he died in the spring of 1995

One such unforgettable story about his forgetfulness goes like this, which I probably heard a dozen times during my childhood: Uncle Muharrem visited her fiancée Pembe at her house, where she lived with her family one night before they got married. They had dinner as a family, at the time, they would never permit young engaged people to spend time alone "God forbid" hands might touch one another's! Muharrem had dinner with the family, but when it was time to take leave from them there was a nuisance. It had started raining. His father in-law-to- become insisted him to take the father's umbrella. Muharrem, knowing his forgetfulness, refused.

Uncle Muharrem, his wife Pembe and their oldest four children, one of the blond twins in the front is Levent, Gulce's father

But as the Turkish culture goes, the father in-law won and Muharrem left their house with an umbrella. On the train home, he put his briefcase on the shelf above the seat and the umbrella in between his legs to make sure he wouldn't leave it on the train. We heard throughout our childhood that his hands were on the handle of the umbrella the whole time! When he arrived at his station, he put the umbrella on the seat to pick up his brief case and in that brief moment of no contact with the umbrella he totally forgot about it and walked out the compartment! That was our dearest Uncle Muharrem, and Levent followed suit! We always tease him about what he would have done without Suzan in life...

The last photograph taken of Uncle Muharrem happens to be the one with his five grandchildren, Gulce sitting next to him

They also had one daughter, Gunes (translates into Turkish as Sun), who was also the oldest, but my friendship with her would develop much later when we both became fully grown adults eliminating the importance of the 5-year age difference between us. Uncle Muharrem didn’t know what a very important deterministic influence he would have on my life. Along with my elementary school teacher, he convinced my father to make sure I would sit for the national exam to get into the special college-prep middle-high school in Izmir, one of seven in the country at the time.

Dear Uncle Muharrem on the wall of the house where I have the sweetest memories of my childhood

Both my elementary school teacher and Uncle Muharrem had a son in this high school called Bornova Maarif Koleji (Bornova Education College) at the time, which became Bornova Anadolu Lisesi (Bornova Anatolian High School) in the years that I attended the school. My teacher and Uncle Muharrem knew well what an opportunity this school would be for me, when nobody in my family fully understood it, yet. It was one of seven such schools in the country, where students were both prepared for college life, and for international opportunities. I am grateful that I had such caring people in my life and open-minded parents, who supported and encouraged me to pursue this path, which changed my life altogether.   

Pre-selfie photograph of Levet's entire family with kids and all, Gunes, the oldest and the only sister, must be the photographer...

And my dear father did encourage me to study, that was what he did best since he had lost the opportunity to finish his education due to some convoluted systems issues in the education system of his time. He brought two test taking books home one day, who knows where he obtained the information on what books to buy... Each about hundred pages with some 20 tests in each for me to get ready for the two exams to try out for acceptance to this life changing campus. I took and retook these practice tests over and over again during a two-month period. Test taking almost became my daily game and it helped! 

My dearest friend Greg and I in front of my high school when we visited "my places" in Turkey together in 2013

We learned in June of 1970 that I was to go to their admission office to enroll! Thus, Uncle Muharrem’s oldest son, Ibrahim and I became school mates. Of course by the time I joined the Bornova Anadolu Lisesi (BAL in short) as a little girl, he was already an adolescent, who would have nothing to do with me! But it was still lovely to know that I had an "agabey", older brother in school, who might protect me in case I needed it.  This school led me to the opportunity of becoming an academic at a fine university in the midwest, just because of the friendship between two adolescent Cretan youth that had just arrived from Crete to a foreign land, whose offspring would learn to call their motherland, soon. Thank you Aunt Melek, thank you grandma Resmiye...

My host family in Waterford, Wisconsin in 1975-1976: The Mealys

The very first unique experience my high school education gave me was to become an exchange student to Wisconsin, which allowed me to dare immigrating to the US decades later. When I returned from my exchange year in 1976, my friends and school had been transformed into something I had quite a bit of difficulty to adjust to. It was 1976-1977 school year. After the elections of 1974 following the military coup of 1970, several years of democracy had allowed one more time for workers to re-organize under unions, university students under student associations, public under local cultural centers. With what little freedom of expression the civil governments allowed, people were in city squares, marching and demonstrating about sky-rocketing prices and unbelievable inflation, diminishing wages, limited freedom of expression on university campuses, and police brutality against demonstrators all over the country.

May 1st Workers' Day Celebrations in Istanbul in 1977

In 1978, 111 people were killed in Kahraman Maras by a collaboration between police, military, and ultra-nationalist camp in Turkey. What followed this massacre was military rule established in Southeastern Turkey, which was for what the ultranationalist and Islamists longed for a long time. All this injustice and strategic plan to eliminate democracy, freedom of expression, and progressive rhetoric to take Turkey back to medieval times to re-establish the Turko-Islamist order made it very easy for me to choose a path for myself.
 

The Kahramanmaras massacre that took place in 1978 to set the stage for martial law in Turkey in preparation for 1980 military coup

 
Most of my friends had joined or formed groups of students reading and teaching others on what was happening in Turkey at the time. We were gradually coming to understand class-based societal organization and how the government was basically the steering committee for the ruling class, the nook of which was in the hands of the imperial powers of the west through IMF, World Bank and all...
 

Some of my friends that influenced me in 1976-77 school year 40 years later during a class reunion

 

That is when I came across the twins one more time. We found each other in the same activist group organizing communities specifically in the ghettos and university students to raise class consciousness. It was as simple as that. We were simply using our first amendment right, freedom of expression, the only arms we used being our words. No violence, no arms. But in oppressive societies, words are considered more dangerous than anything, the flow of which must be stopped at any cost. That is where Turkey was in the late 70s.

My daughter with her father when she was 3 years of age or so 

I met my husband-to-become in this activist group. As young adults, the twins, Levent and Bulent and I became closer friends. My friendship with Levent went much further when my then-husband and Levent started  working for the same pharmaceutical company, to which my husband was hired with Levent’s help. That brought us even closer, which was crowned by his girlfriend Suzan turning out to be a warm, loving, caring brilliant woman, who would soon become his wife. Levent and Suzan were visiting us in our house in Bornova in late 80s, when Levent, at our kitchen table turned to me and said "Is there an apartment for us in this building to rent?"


Two of my dearest combalaks Levent and Suzan, he most  likely did the same when he subtly proposed to her in our kitchen close to 30 years ago

Because, at the time living together without getting married was almost unthinkable, this was a proposal to Suzan, right there! I looked at Suzan, she was as perplexed as I was. We must have all exploded in laughter and applause. That was close to 30 years ago. He must have embraced her the way he always has been since then... They are two beautiful souls, who have always been each other's best friend, have managed to weave their love for one another into love for their precious daughter Gulce, for their close family members, for their friends, who have almost become their family just as they became my family. Love you Suzi'm, love you Levo'm, and that is forever. 

Every living soul's need on earth, I hope all those that need it find it just like all my Combalaks have... May our children also find love and joy in life... 

 

Levent's siblings, oldest brother Ibrahim and his twin Bulent standing; Levent, his youngest brother Gursel, and sister Gunes sitting

My brothers on the left sitting and standing, my sisters in law on either side of me with white hair, my mother sitting in the middle and her youngest sister next to her