Turkish Muse

Finding Friends in Unlikely Places

If you looked just on the surface, it would be understandable for you to wonder why we have become such good friends with Ümit Kızılırmak.

To be sure, there are a lot of differences between him and us.

He is a devout Muslim, for example, and prays four times a day, only skipping the early morning prayer.

He doesn't drink booze. One of the few things he knows how to say in English is "I am Muslim. Boycott alcohol."

Ümit doesn't speak English, which means we speak Turkish together and sometimes Kurdish. Well, he speaks Kurdish and we go "huh?"

He reads crazy conspiracy theories on the internet. He refuses to buy a cell phone with wireless capability because he believes those phones have more radiation in them and thus, will give him cancer. (I would tell him to read this, but I don't think he would believe it.)

Ümit doesn't like cats. At all. He thinks it's sweet that I carry a bag of cat food in my purse to feed random street cats but probably thinks I'm crazy nonetheless. But when he comes to visit us for a week in May, I think he'll change his tune when he meets my four cats.

But for all that....for all the surface differences and the language barriers and the cultural misunderstandings....

For all that, somehow, we have become really good friends. And if you ever meet Ümit, you'll know why.

He is one of the most generous and altruistic people I have ever met. I've met some very generous people living in Turkey, but Umit and his family by far take the cake.

Ümit is open minded about a lot of things in ways that a lot of people here are not. True, he does have staunch views about some things (see above), but for the most part, he doesn't make assumptions or jump to conclusions.

In a lot of ways, some similar, some not so similar, we three know that we are foreigners in this land and don't quite fit in with the status quo.

We learn from each other. Ümit teaches us about Kurdish folk music and dancing and explains cultural nuances to us that we don't understand. We, in turn, tell him about life in Philadelphia and what Christmas means to us.

Really, when you think about it, we're friends for the same reason that you become friends with anybody. It doesn't get any more complicated than that.

Generation Faithful: Hard to Believe

"After I covered, I finally knew who I was."

That line comes from an article in today's New York Times spoken by a young Turkish woman named Havva Yilmaz who is altering the meaning of the words "modern" and "free" in Turkish society.

As a young Muslim, and one who is more devout than her parents, Yilmaz and her friends are fighting to express their religious beliefs in a country that is desperately trying to remain secular.

The article offers a different take on how I see the headscarf in Turkey. From where I stand, the headscarf looks to be more of a political symbol, a sign of rebellion against secularism and, I dare to say it, Kemalism.

I'll give you an example: On Saturday I began taking Turkish courses again and in my class is a young Indonesian woman named Fatima, probably in her early to mid-20s, who showed up on Saturday morning wearing a headscarf. As the class chatted during the third hour, getting to know each other and practicing our Turkish, she told us that she is engaged to a Turkish man whose mother and family want her to wear the headscarf.

"In Indonesia," she told us, "the headscarf is not a big deal. You can wear it or you don't. It doesn't matter. In Indonesia, what matters more to being a good Muslim is prayer and fasting. The headscarf doesn't make you more Muslim."

But in Turkey, Fatima said, her soon-to-be female in-laws don't pray five times a day, nor did they fast during Ramadan, but they are all adamant about wearing the headscarf. Fatima said she was shocked.

"They all parade around in their headscarves but they don't pray and they don't fast. Those are more important to being a good Muslim than this thing on my head." She continued that she wears the headscarf out of respect for her in-laws (she currently lives with them) but has trouble understanding why it is so important for them to wear it when they neglect other tenets of their faith.

Perhaps it is the act of wearing the headscarf that makes Fatima's in-laws think they are being Muslim. That is, by wearing the headscarf, they feel they don't have to pray or fast. The headscarf does that for them. This is what Jeff says.

Perhaps. But I think it's more than that. I think the headscarf is a religious symbol, yes, perhaps of how devout you are (as in Yilmaz's case) or how devout you wish you were (as in Fatma's in-laws' case), but I think more and more, the headscarf has become little more for many people than a fashion accessory or a political symbol.

I think in Istanbul the headscarf has come to represent a certain set of beliefs that are sometimes not Islamic or even religious. Perhaps to some women it says, "I believe in the AKP," and to others it says, "Doesn't my headscarf go great with this skirt?" Perhaps some women wear it to ward off unwanted advances from men or to cover up a bad hair day. (Okay, maybe not the last one.) Maybe some women wear it as a sign of personal freedom and are thus enraged to find that they can't wear them to school or university.

Personally, I think wearing anything on my head when it's not cold outside is absolutely ridiculous. The only reason to put anything on my head is to keep my body heat from escaping or to keep the rain off my hair. I don't want to broadcast my political or religious views to the world and I don't wear things that would lead people to assume them.

My view tends to be, to each his own. You wanna wear a head scarf because you think it makes you a better person? Fine. Because you think that your god thinks you're a better person? Ok. Because you want to proclaim your freedom to do so? Cool. Just do it quietly and don't look at me or any other woman like lepers because we choose not to wear headscarves.

East meets West, again

"Istanbul skyline gets woman's touch"

A new mosque in Istanbul is being designed, for the very first time, by a woman. My, my. What will those crazy broads do next?

Another kind of Christmas

According to the Christian Science Monitor, iftar, or the dinner that breaks Muslims' fast during the holy month of Ramadan, is fast becoming more of a social and status symbol as increasing numbers of companies host elaborate -- and expensive -- iftar dinners for their employees.

On the surface, this doesn't appear to be a big deal. But as an assistant professor of marketing at Bilkent University in Ankara points out, the holy month may be getting a little less holy.

"Across the Muslim world, there are numerous signs that Ramadan, a time of fasting, prayer, and reflection, is transforming from a religious month to a cultural and commercial holiday," she says.

"The resistance to this change is not very obvious," she adds. "People seem to be embracing it."

I've noticed malls and clothing shops advertising huge sales and discounts before the Şeker Bayramı, the 3-day holiday immediately following Ramazan during which Muslims celebrate with lots of food, sweets and family. The tradition typically has been to purchase something new for the holiday, sort of a symbol of renewal, I suppose, but now advertisers have latched upon that simple idea as an excuse for people to buy new EVERYTHING -- not just clothes or shoes, but electronics, toys, furniture, artwork, anything.

Though I am not religious, it still seems such a shame that what is supposed to be a time for family and reflection has turned into a time for mass consumerism and displays of wealth. (Hmm, this sounds like another holiday I know of....)

You can read the full article here.

Nothing to do with being strong

Today at sundown begins the 30 days of the Ramadan holiday here in Turkey and in the rest of the Muslim world. Observant Muslims will spend the next month fasting during the day and feasting at night. To a non-religious person like myself, Ramadan has always seemed to me to be something of a chore, something you must steel yourself for. But as one of Jeff's friends pointed out to him yesterday, that is not the case.

Jeff's barber is a jovial, jokey guy, a guy who loves his life and his country. He is absolutely hilarious, and even though I can't understand everything he says, I know it's all in good fun.

Sitting outside the barbershop drinking tea, Jeff said in Turkish, "Is Ramadan good?" And the barber replied, "Yes, yes, very good." Jeff said his assumption was that people dread Ramadan like people dread other obligations. But, in fact, Turks are very quick to correct him and say, no, no, you don't understand, Ramadan really is good. Most of the time, Jeff says he can't quite understand what they say as they talk about why they like the holiday so much. But the barber's answer was clear and poignant.

Jeff said he guessed you have to be really strong to go all day without eating, and he pointed to his arm as he flexed his muscle.

But the barber's demeanor quickly changed and he turned serious. No, he said, when your stomach is empty, Allah fills you.

There was more to it than that, of course, but Jeff said he didn't catch the rest of his explanation. But the barber's reasoning was simple and yet made so much sense. To Jeff and I, Ramadan might look to be about strength or control but to many Muslims it seems to be about submission and openness to Allah. This month, I'd like to explore this idea more, to learn what the holiday means to observant Turks and even people who don't celebrate the holiday. Hopefully I can feature some of their views here so you can learn along with me.

Preparation for prayer