İnsanlığın başından beri teknoloji gittikçe gelişir. Teknoloji hangi anlama geliyor ama? Genellikle, teknoloji kelimesi duyulunca elektrik, DVD, uçak ve araba düşünülür fakat doğrusunu söylemek gerekirse mızrak, taş, vay bulunarak avlayan insanların hayatlarındaki zorluklarını kolaylaştırırmış. Bu tip eski, ama yine de önemli, teknoloji olmasaydı bu arada taş devri, tunç çağı bambaşka çağlar olurdu. Büyük olasılıkla en önemli teknoloji gelişmesi geçmişteki insanin çakmaktaşının faydalı olduğunu öğrenmesidir. Ateş de kontrol edilmeye başladıktan sonra insanin ilerlemesi gerçekleşip ve ona göre hızlı devam etmiştir. En azından bahsettiğimiz noktaya kadar teknolojinin çok yararlı, belki de vazgeçilmez bile, olduğunu kabul edilir. Gecen yüzyıla bakarsak tartışmamız daha ilginç de olur. Bana sorarsanız en önemli gelişmelerin ikincisi mutlaka internettir. Artik neredeyse istediğimiz zaman istediğimiz bilgiyi sorun yasamadan bulabiliriz. 20 yıl önceki insanin araştırma yapması, kütüphane gitmesi, saatlerce araması gerekmek yerine bir saniyenin içinde İnternette yapılabilir. Tabi ki yasadığımız gerçekte problemler de birlikte verilir. Adsızlığın zararları, çocuk pornografisi, bilgisayarın fazla kullanılması ve bazı insanların bağımlı olması, uzun lafım kısası – arayan bulunur. Neyse, çok çalışırsak ve açık bir gözle bakarsak, bence onları da çözeriz.
Dilmer (Yabanci Dil Merkezi)
Dilmer (Yabanci Dil Merkezi – Language Center) is a privately run language school specialized and educated in teaching Turkish to foreigners. There are 7 levels, beginning at the basics such as greetings, time, simple day to day conversation and ending in reading newspapers and having profound discussions touching upon subjects such as the right to education or what it feels like to be a foreigner. There are courses available during morning, afternoon, evening and weekends. Besides Turkish
The course literature has been developed by the school carrying in my mind the aim of teaching Turkish to foreigners in an entertaining and effective way. In addition to this, two ”do it yourself” books are available, also developed by the school intended for people who want to study Turkish on their own. I have attached pictures of the book covers for you to see and if you have any questions please do not hesitate to send an e-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org or surf in to www.dilmer.com . The personal comfortably communicates in English.
Dilmer offers language courses in English, German, French, Spanish, Greek, Arabic and Russian.
Benjamin Mehmet Sjögren
Dört ay önce Mehmet adlı bir adam Stokholm'un en güzel parklarından birisinde yürüyordu. Sonbahar yeni gelmişti ve her zamanki gibi Mehmet evden bir gezinti yapmak için çıkmıştı. Parktaki güzel kuşları izlerken bir dilek Mehmet'in aklına geldı. 'Keşke uçabilsem' diye düşündü. Birdenbire Mehmet sakat bir yaşlı adamı gördü. Yaşlı adamı bir tekerlik sandalyede oturuyordu ve mutlu olduğu yüzünden belliydi. Mehmet hemen utanmaya başlayıp 'Allah allah. Ne biçim insanım ben? Karşımdakı insan yürüyemiyor ve ben uçmamamdan memnun değiliyim' diye düşündü. Mehmet adama yaklaşıp para vermek için pantolonundan cüzdanını çıkartıp 'Merhaba Abi' dedi.
- 'Merhaba evladım, nasılsın?'
- 'Çok şükür Abi. Merak ediyorum ama. Her gün bu parkta gezinti yaparım ama sizi hiç görmedim.'
- 'Evladım, epeydir burada oturarak kuşların cıvıldmasını dinleyerek düsünüyorum.'
- 'Peki ne düşünüyorsunuz Abi?'
- 'Şansımı düşünerek Allah'a beni doğurduğu için teşekkür ediyorum. Evladım, mutluluğun şırrı memnun olmaktır. Bunu anlıyorsan başarılı olursun.'
Mehmet birdenbire arkasındankı ağacından bir ses duyup döndü. Şahane bir kuş güneşe doğru uçuyordu.
'Peki Abi...' dedi ama döndükten sonra sakat adamı yoktu. Mehmet şaşırıp çevresine baktı ve 'Keşke sakat adam gibi olsam' diye düşündü.
Adsız Güzellik (Nameless Beauty)
I tremble gently down the artery of the city, sensing its heartbeat every time my feet touch the ground. My eyes sweep the surroundings and surrender to every impression around me. Beauty is born here, learns to walk here, breathes here and eventually dies here. Suddenly it passes me. A graceful woman with long black curly hair, reaching the end of her lower back, is moving in my opposite direction. I turn around to watch her break my heart every time her feet touch the ground, leaving me with nothing but the diminishing scent of her hair and an echoing wonder to know her name.
An Unpleasant Surprise
During my stay here I have several times asked native Turks about certain Turkish artists, many of them among my favorites, and very often I get a negative reply describing the person rather than the music. I do not think this is something unique to the Turkish culture, especially not in the case of Michael Jackson, but it definitely got me thinking. Most of us have a personal relation to his music, many of us probably consider themselves to at some point in their lives have been saved by it, in on way or another, and without a doubt everyone of us know who he was.
On my way out I activated the MJ playlist on my Iphone and listened to his songs. I have always been a fan, but this time it was different, he was no longer alive and somehow that changed the experience in a slight but surreal manner. Admiring Michael Jackson does not take much from a man. With his professionalism and innovative mind for music he changed the business forever. You just have to watch MTV for 15 minutes to see how many of the artists today somehow and in someway are carrying on his legacy.
I kept on walking in the area of Cihangir, Beyoglu, Istanbul and the sensation of being sad was now imminent. Not really accepting this emotion, wondering how I could feel this bad for someone I never met, I kept questioning the mourning process and trying to understand its origin. Right after passing the German Consulate and turning right, the insight of my grieving came to me like a spontaneous visit from a familiar friend with an unfamiliar face. I appeared to be mourning the death of Michael Jackson, which was true, but in fact I was also mourning for reasons connected to myself. Growing up I would play his albums, belonging to my parents, I would become scared by Thriller and dance to Bad. I became older and begun reading his lyrics, I contemplated the message in Black & White and They Don’t Really Care About Us, put it in the context of a, at that time, right wing influenced Sweden with raging skinheads and violent racism, and I also put it in the context of my own ambiguous identity – was I black or white? Michael Jackson has always been there and I have always been a child. His death is an unpleasant reminder of the separation from my own youth and also of the inevitable departure from this world all together. That is why I am sad, I am mourning the death of my own immortality and the loss of a modern day Mozart, both who died on the 25th of June 2009.
Rest In Peace.
After this my flatmate went on to the gym, leaving me with an empty stomach and the urge for adventure! I made the 5 minute walk passed our place and went on down Istiklal Caddesi (the main commercial boulevard on the European side of Istanbul). During my walk I thought to myself, what will I eat? Having a limited, if any, knowledge at all of the city restaurants and simultaneously not being able to hear my thoughts due to my shouting stomach, I played with the idea of eating at Burger King. No, that is simply to lame, I declared and came up with another idea. I went in to the Turkcell (phone operator) store and talked to my new acquaintance Yusuf. Yusuf was the first guy to help me with my SIM card and since I felt he was nice and service minded I immediately decided that I would always go to him when needing a refill of credits. Maybe he gets a percentage of the business my refills generate? Anyhow, it is pretty close to home and he seemed helpful. He pointed across the street and promised good meal. When I asked him what the prices were he scratched his beard stubble and looked at me as if he hesitated. After that he said ”Tamam”, meaning Ok in Turkish, and gave me the directions to a restaurant located on a small backstreet, and said that he just came from there a couple of minutes ago. We chitchatted for a minute before I went off to find the place. Arriving at the restaurant, named Balkan Lokanta (Balkan restaurant), I immediately realized I had found gold. It was the typical Turkish indiginous diner with all kinds of soups, rice, lamb, chicken, dolma, beans, cacık (tsatsiki) and of course no even half of a tourist as far as I could see. I ordered kurufasülye (beans and tomato sauce), two large pieces of fresh bread, coban salatasi (tomatoes, peppers and onions), ice tea and a bottle of water. The bill was 6 Turkish liras which multiplied by 5 turns into 30 crones and approximately 3 euros. In other words, extremely cheap! However, I was so hungry that I ate it all up in an elitist pace, rendering myself unmovable for 30 minutes. Sitting there I felt like a child, relearning a lesson for the 999th time. I did not enjoy the meal, but the acquired knowledge of a cheap and tasteful restaurant near by softened my stomach pain and eventually allowed me to go home and rest. Until next time!
Istiklal Caddesi 2 (pictures)
Naturally I forgot to attach the pictures from todays exploring. Here they are!
St.Antonio di Padova
The Swedish Consulate
The view from my balcony.
The sound of frightened barking dogs who never knew domestication, the constant echo of ringing police sirens shouting in unfamiliar tones, literally thousands of buildings right next to, and even on top of each other. The tight proximity of these structures reminds me of a failed game of Tetris, yet it is far from a failure. They just remain still. Circulating on top of this immense view are hundreds of flapping seagulls seemingly looking for something. My guess would be food. The sound of traffic is distinguishable and every once in a while the loud sound of an engine, probably a truck, has me guessing if it is not actually driving through the living room. A man is shouting something in Turkish through a megaphone, I can not make out the words but I can tell he is passionate about his message. Boats in all sizes, ferries, trawlers, sight-seeing boats and even smaller ones keep going back and forth from Europe to Asia and straight out into the Marmara Sea.
Today I managed to get my SIM card running, meaning I can now be reached on a Turkish phone number, 0090 536 524 8605. I walked down Itiklal Caddesi and talked to a salesman in one of the Turkcell stores. He helped me and told me he worked 12 hours a day making 400 dollars a month. I was not going to say anything but as he prompted to ask me what his Swedish equivalences are making I replied around 1400 Euros a month. He laughed, told his colleague and shook his head. He was helpful so I promised to go back there every time I need a refill. I went on making a pretty huge cash withdrawal in order to pay the landlord, this made me nervous at first but i managed to blend in to the crowd and kept on walking down Istiklal Caddesi. On my way I decided to walk down the entire boulevard and did so until it got split into two smaller roads. On my way back two things caught my eye. The first was the Swedish consulate, a large enclosed area with the characteristic three crones symbol marked the spot. The second took more investigation. From the street perspective I just noticed that there was a gate and above it the virgin Mary sat in her traditional pose, innocent eyes and a tilted head. I went in and was amazed by the large church that could be found inside. It was the St. Antonio di Padova church, originally an Italian church built 1725 but later on demolished and replace with the current building. The latter was built in the beginning of the 20th century. I approached it with caution and respect, a posture I always try to keep when visiting place of worship, regardless of what religion it might belong to. From the look of the people going in and out I could quickly tell that it was open for the public. The signs in Turkish prohibiting food, taking pictures, talking or even praying while walking (?!) also indicated that it was an open church. To my disappointment people did not seem to respect this when entering it. I saw flashes, heard a constant mumble while some actually tried to pray. Regardlessly it was a pleasant experience. When I went out on the yard I realized that I did not know the name of the church. I looked around and saw an old woman sitting down by a pillar, holding prayer beeds and wearing a peculiar head covering. I decided to ask her, and I did it in Turkish.
- ”Excuse me, would you by any chance know the name of this church?”
- ”Yes indeed I do. It’s the Catholic church of St.Antonio Padova. Where are you from?” the woman replied with newly found enthusiasm and looked upon me kindly.
- ”Sweden.” I said, smiling at her.
She looked a bit puzzled and went on asking;
- ”Are you catholic?”
I shook my head, still smiling and she asked again;
- ”Yes, I guess I am.” I replied and shrugged my shoulders in an attempt to convey the complexity of that question. It did not seem to take so I continued;
- ”In my eyes, God is God and the rest is peripheral.”
Her face lit up with joy and I could see that we shared that moment in a peaceful understanding. After telling me that she loved all the prophets I politely thanked her, wished her a good day and went back to Cihangir.
After eating a sandwich at home I felt exhausted and surrendered to a couple of hours of sleep. After waking up I remembered doing so when being in Alanya (SE Turkey) as well. Is it the heat? I do not know but now I feel better than ever, ready to go out and pick up a döner kebab. Until next time!
The past days have mainly consisted of practical things like cleaning the apartment, packing and making other arrangements necessary for Daniel, the guy who will be staying at my place the next coming 6 months. A combination of several 1 1/2 hour night walks with my good friend Sia and sloppy clothing has invited a sore throat accompanied by a runny nose. Feeling warm and tired at times I have smiled at the ironi and asked myself if this what travel fever really feels like.
Two friends have offered to hook me up with open minded people in Istanbul and for that I am grateful. Adventure is still the objective, but knowledgeable and helpful people is always welcome. Especially when moving to a new country!
I will be landing in Turkey around 16 or 17 o' clock, depending on adjustment to Turkish time. If we optimistically add another hour to that for claiming the baggage and maneuvering the cart to the airbuses I think it is safe to say I will be in Taksim the earliest at 20 o´ clock Turkish time. Most probably this means that my first night in Turkey will be spent calmly somewhere on a restaurant where I can enjoy the phenomenal kitchen typical for the region, and try getting a good night of sleep.
On Tuesday I am told there is a Turkish holiday. The 19th of May is celebrated as the Commemoration of Atatürk, Youth and Sports Day. In Turkish it is Atatürk'ü Anma or Gençlik ve Spor Bayramı. The origin of this holiday can logically be traced to the date of May 19, 1919, when the Turkish War of Independence was started which subsequently lead to the creation of the Republic Of Turkey. How does Istanbul smell, taste and feel on a holiday like this? I will find out and let you know!
Why on earth would you do that?
- "Oh you are going to Turkey? That's cool. Why?"
- "Well I am going to study the language."
- "But why?"
To be honest my answer has often been short in a polite dismissing kind of way, ”Because I am part Turkish”. That is simply because in most situations there was no time to go in to details. At least not enough time for me to give what I feel would be the best and sufficient answer representing my thoughts and feelings on this trip. In other words, it is complicated.
I grew up in a middle class home with a Turkish mother and a Swedish father. Since my dad could not speak Turkish and had no ambitions to learn it, my mother chose to speak Swedish exclusively rather than making us (me and my older brother) bilingual. In effect this meant that throughout my childhood I could not communicate thoroughly with many of my relatives, not to mention my grandmother and grandfather. I can still remember how it was to hear mom and grandma speak Turkish without understanding a word. Many times I asked mom why they were fighting and she replied that they were not and told me that Turkish was simply spoken louder than the soft careful Swedish I knew. This really bothered me, I felt left out and socially handicapped when trying to speak to relatives. So Turkey was a strange country for me? In a way it was, in a way it was not. My mother and father bought an apartment in the tourist city of Alanya, located in southwestern Turkey, when they got married. We spent many summers there sunbathing in the ocean, enjoying the magnificent food and building up energy in order to once again go back and work another year. I have many pleasant memories from those summers but regardlessly they did not shape me in the constructive way an actual visit to our relatives, 100 miles away in the ”real” Turkey, would have done. It might sound like I am blaming my parents or holding them in contempt but it is quite the opposite, I love them for everything they have done for me. I am merely trying to make you understand the background of this huge change in my life I have decided to make.
What sometimes puzzles me is that while my mother chose not to teach us Turkish, she insisted on sending us to the mosque where we learned how to read Arabic (without understanding it), the history of the abrahamitic religions and also how to pray according to Islam. This period really shaped me. Sure, I believe in God and have my word with him every once in a while, but I am not a religious guy at all. Growing up a Muslim half Turkish Swedish guy in a Swedish neighborhood who could not speak Turkish, the language of those sharing the same faith as him, contributed to a feeling of ”out of place” constantly being present through out my childhood. Who was i? Combining this hollow equation with the regular identity crisis anyone suffers in their teens I REALLY did not know who I was.
The question of who I was made me interested in both the culture and language and at 13 I finally decided that I would try and learn it as much as I could. I started to constantly ask questions on grammar, vocabulary and pronunciation. I started hanging out with kids my age who had a ethnic or linguistic ties to Turkey. Slowly but surely my Turkish got better and I used to dream of moving there after I finished school. When the time came for graduation I drifted without anything to do for a couple of months until I got lucky and found work within IT. I spent four years in that business working at three different companies, learning how practical adult life could be. Naturally I moved out and got my own place, earned my liberties and became a regular ”9-5er”. This is what put my dream on hold and kept it shackled but it could only do so for so long. The experience of four years out there working is without equivalence and I do not regret anything. However, the question remains – who am i? I think Istanbul knows the answer and she is dying to tell me. All I have to do is go, and I will. At this hour in 12 days I will be driving from the airport to Taksim to settle in my new home.
At my last day at the office my colleagues gave me a thank you gift - a "first class travelers guide to Istanbul".
They could not have come up with a better gift. Since my first week will be without school I can spend it exploring the city of which it is said Napoleon spoke with great admiration.
"If the Earth were a single state, Constantinople would be its capital. ”
The Blog Got Globalized
Efter att jag tog beslutet att flytta ned till Istanbul har det varit upp och ner i frågan om bostad. Först var det tänkt att jag skulle bo oförskämt billigt i Caddebostan, ett modernt shopping- och bostadsområde på den asiatiska sidan, beläget ungefär en mil ifrån skolan. På grund av diverse komplikationer förpassades tyvärr det alternativet till soptunnan. Därefter har andra hjälpsamma vänner och släktingar försökt bistå med olika förslag men till slut, med ungefär en månad kvar till resan, bestämde jag mig för att lösa på egen hand. Jag googlade mig fram till en brittisk craigslist (annonssida) som hyste mängder av annonser på rum och lägenheter över hela Istanbul. Det var svårt att välja, men jag började med att knacka ihop ett mail i vilket jag presenterade mig själv på engelska/turkiska. Jag berättade att jag arbetar på Volvo, ett globalt beryktat företag, som talar tydligt språk - jag är en skötsam kille (:) ). Tanken slog mig att länka min ståuppakt på youtube och berätta om mitt projektjobb som röstskådespelare och manusförfattare för ett nationalsänt radioprogram. Min inbyggda jantelag tryckte först ner mig i skorna men efter en uppriktig självrannsakan tänkte jag: varför skulle jag inte berätta det?
Det fanns många fina rum/lägenheter på lika många intressanta platser, men med största sannolikhet finns det betydligt många fler spekulanter i en liknande situation som jag. Jag resonerade till slut att det var upp till mig att sälja in mig själv, låste in jantelagen i en låda och berättade stolt om min sidosyssla, som förhoppningsvis en dag blir min huvudsyssla.
Efter att jag skickat min hängivne kusin och istanbulbo Burak för att träffa hyresvärden samt göra en sista kontroll är det nu spikat! Jag kommer att bo i hjärtat av Istanbuls kommersiella center - Taksim. Lägenheten ligger i området Cihangir vilket är Europa, är belägen cirkus 500m från skolan och tycks ha en fantastisk utsikt(se bilden) över Bosporen / Marmarasjön. Som en bonus råkar även lägenheten av händelse också ligga på samma gata som det turkiska fotbollslaget Besiktas' fotbollsarena. Personligen håller jag på Fenerbahce, som är bittra rivaler till Besiktas, men lyckligtvis är jag inte tillräckligt inbiten för att se nackdelarna i detta.
Nedans ser vi i stort sett staden Istanbul, men inte provinsen med samma namn.
Här ser vi en inzoomad bild på en del av Taksim, Cihangir. Sängen kännetecknar lägenheten och huset skolan.
Inönü stadyumu ligger som tidigare nämnt precis bredvid lägenheten.
30 dagar kvar
Huvudmålet är att detta ska bli ett kontaktmedel med nära och kära i Sverige. Fokus kommer ligga på dagliga upplevelser, kulturella och språkliga betraktelser och om möjligt även vad som händer i den turkiska politiken.
Jag är långt ifrån en professionell fotograf men eftersom Istanbuls kulturutbud är så enormt och bara antalet storslagna vyer är många ska jag göra ett tappert försök att även lägga upp bilder, om jag kan.
Till nästa gång!
Ahmet Kaya - Saza Niye Gelmedin
Jag vill börja veckans inlägg med en varm och ödmjuk ursäkt för mitt långa avbrott. Det har gått nästan två månader sen den senaste översättningen och även om jag är fullt medveten om att det fulla ansvaret ligger på mig. så vill jag säga att det aldrig var min avsikt att ha ett sådant långt uppehåll. I semesterns kölvatten har jag funnit det svårt att ta mig tid till detta projekt, och de få gånger jag mot förmodan lyckats göra det har låtens svårighetsgrad på ren svenska punkterat mig. En av dessa låtar var ett önskemål från en vän, en lika fin sådan som som låttexten var komplicerad och efter ett par helhjärtade försök att översätta den insåg jag mig besegrad. Den får vänta till jag har ökat på min kunskap - för i dagsläget blev det alldeles för mycket. Jag skulle kunna be någon annan översätta mycket eller hela låten men det vore roligare och mer logiskt att välja en enklare låt och göra merparten av jobbet själv. Veckans låt är Saza Niye Gelmedin skriven och framförd av den bortgångne trubaduren Ahmet Kaya. Du kan lyssna på den här. Saz, som är ett turkiskt/persiskt stråkinstrument, har i titeln fått ett avslutande A: och det betyder rakt översatt Till Saz. Det man syftar till här är inte instrumentet utan snarare en festlig tillställelse där instrumentet spelas av till exempel en trubadur. Niye betyder varför och Gelmedin du kom inte. Temat är i vanlig ordning kärlek och i turkisk ordning av den olyckliga sorten. Sångaren är förkrossad över hur hans förälskelse lät honom vänta och aldrig dök upp.
Tack till Murat som hjälpte mig med det sista stycket!
1. Saza niye gelmedin
Saza niye gelmedin
Gündüz belli isin var
Gece niye gelmedin
1. Varför kom du inte till festen
Varför kom du inte till festen
Du var upptagen på dagen
Men varför kom du inte på natten
2. Üc gün dedin bes gün dedin
Aylar oldu gelmedin
Gecen cuma gelecektin
2. Du sa tre dagar du sa fem dagar
Det gick månader och du kom inte
Förra fredagen skulle du kommit
Det blev veckor och du kom inte
3. Caldigim saza mi yanam
Ettigin naza mi yanam
Alam yari koynuma
Kis yatam, yaz uyanam
3. Ska jag be om ursäkt för att jag spelar på min saz
Ska jag be om ursäkt för att du är reserverad
Kan jag ta min älskling i min famn
Jag lägger mig på vintern och vaknar på sommaren