One Subdued Summer

People are looking like they move slower.

I arrived at Xios island at 19:30. It was a bumpy boat ride. In my whole life I made that trip on San Nicholas. It's a small boat that acts like a dolphin among the waves. She's speedy. I call her "the U-boat". However this time, lured by my old travel agent who used to sell San Nicholas tickets, I traveled on a boat called "Chios". She was a lot slower and I was one of two passengers on it.

In end-June, 19:30 streets of Xios should have been more lively. It is an outpost of an island really. Its population is mainly people originally from Xios, migrants of western Asia Minor. It lost a lot of its sons and daughters to the United States. So, at the bars and tavernas all summer long, Greeklish is the common language.
Not this June. My taxi driver complained naturally. Kefeneion on the corner of the harbor was deserted. Stray dogs did not run after the car as usual. Normally buzzing travel agents were closed due to time of the day. (Or lack of customers) The flight to Athens was crowded though. Mostly businessmen and traveling locals.

Greece is weird this summer. People are staring at their toes. Yesterday the harbor workers were on strike. No ship left or arrived at Peireas. People were stranded on islands or at the capital. Both the victims and the strikers raised their voices. But there were no newspaper or TV station to report these events. Because today journalists were on strike. I watched today's WorldCup games without any commentary. I once more realized how disturbing the effect of vuvuzela was. God, it's awful!

Plans and preoccupations aside, I will try to understand more this new psyche in Greece. Maybe partying time is over for real for Greece. Even that previous sentence sounds like an oxymoron when heard. Where everything is supposed to be loud and pronounced, this silence can drive you mad.

Having coffee at Kitchen Bar at Marina Zeas today, I observed my fellow patrons. They came, ate or drink dutifully and went on their chores. Except for a young mother, enthusing about her newborn, all was acting behind a gossamer screen. As if they were ghosts of a unsure future.

Of course it is still middle of the week. Of course all will be different during the weekend. We shall live and see. But if Europe is losing its last resort of dolce vita, what kind of heritage we would leave for our kids, I wonder.

μια κούκλα που τη λένε «Ελένη»

Έπινε αργά αργά τον τούρκικο καφέ της. Ναι ήταν ηλικιωμένη. Αλλά σταθερή σαν βράχος. Δεν ταράζονταν, δεν έτρεμε. Τα μάτια της κοιτούσαν σταθερά τη θάλασσα. Τα μάτια της που είχαν δει τα πάντα ήταν κολλημένα στα κόκκινα σύννεφα στη δύση του ήλιου.

Το βλέμμα της ατένιζε τους περαστικούς του σήμερα και του χθες.  Ανθρώπους που δεν έβλεπε. Ανθρώπους που δεν αναγνώριζε. Tους κοιτούσε μα δεν τους έβλεπε.  Χρόνος.  Στράφηκε και παράγγειλε ένα δεύτερο καφέ και λίγο ακόμη νερό. 

Τότε ήταν που συνάντησα το βλέμμα της. Με κοίταξε ρωτώντας με τόσα πολλά χωρίς να ξεστομίσει ούτε μία λέξη. Είδα στη ματιά της ανάμικτο φόβο και περιέργεια. Τα χείλη μου πρόφεραν ‘γεια σας’. Το πρόσωπό της φωτιστικέ. Ένα όμορφο πλατύ χαμόγελο εισέβαλε στο πρόσωπό της. Ανταλλάξαμε ένα νεύμα.

Βρήκα το κουράγιο να πάω να της μιλήσω. Κάθονταν τουλάχιστον μία ώρα εκεί μόνη της. Ακολούθησα το σερβιτόρο που της έφερνε το δεύτερο καφέ και στράφηκα προς το μέρος της.

«Μπορώ να καθίσω;»

«Φυσικά»

Οι πιο πολύτιμες λέξεις της ζωής μου! Καθώς καθόμουν στην  πολυθρόνα πλάι της δεν ήξερα πως να την αποκαλέσω. Ήθελα να την φωνάξω «γιαγιά». Σκέφτηκα πως θα έδειχνε έλλειψη σεβασμού. Τη ρώτησα το όνομά της. Μου το είπε. Δεν μπορώ να το αποκαλύψω μιας και αργότερα μου ζήτησε να διατηρήσω την ανωνυμία της. Και η ιστορία της εξηγεί το γιατί.

Γεννήθηκε το 1918 που σημαίνει ότι είναι 92 χρονών σήμερα. Κοιτώντας τη δε φαντάζεσαι ότι είναι τόσο. Μοιάζει με 70. Και συμπεριφέρεται σα νεώτερη. Αλλά φαίνεται ανήσυχη.  Όταν γεννήθηκε, η Σμύρνη ήταν η Σμύρνη. Φυσικά δεν έχει προσωπικές αναμνήσεις από την εποχή εκείνη. Αλλά μεγάλωσε με ιστορίες και αναμνήσεις των ανθρώπων γύρω της. Η οικογένειά της αναγκάστηκε να εγκαταλείψει το σπίτι τους που κάηκε στην καταστροφή του 1922. Μετακόμισαν στο σπίτι συγγενών τους κοντά στην Ούρλα, περίπου 50 χιλιόμετρα από τη Σμύρνη. Κατάγεται από μια γνήσια Σμυρναϊκή οικογένεια με ρίζες που χάνονται εκατοντάδες χρόνια πριν. Ο πατέρας της ήταν έμπορος. Αλλά ποιος δεν ήταν εκείνη την εποχή; Φυσικά η επιχείρηση του καταστράφηκε από τη φωτιά.

Αρνήθηκαν να πάνε στην Ελλάδα κατά την ανταλλαγή πληθυσμού. Χρησιμοποίησαν παράνομα μέσα για να παραμείνουν. Αλλά τα χρόνια ήταν άγρια. Δεν μπορούσαν να μιλάνε τη μητρική τους γλώσσα στις καθημερινές τους σχέσεις. Όπως οι περισσότεροι χρησιμοποιούσαν τα γαλλικά σαν γλώσσα επικοινωνίας. Η ελληνική γλώσσα αντικαταστάθηκε από τη γαλλική μεταξύ των μη μουσουλμάνων της πόλης.

Η φωτιά και οι άλλες καταστροφές της κυβέρνησης τους άφησαν χωρίς ούτε μια εκκλησία, και στην πραγματικότητα χωρίς τα βασικά μέσα μιας κοινότητας. Παντού επικρατούσαν σκληρές συνθήκες. Κάθε μέλος της οικογένειας έπρεπε βρει μια δουλειά.

Έπιασε δουλειά σαν υπηρέτρια σε μια χανούμ. Μια μέρα καθώς επέστρεφε στο σπίτι της από τη δουλειά είδε μια παλιά κούκλα πεσμένη στο πεζοδρόμιο. Θυμάται. Η κούκλα είχε ξανθά μαλιά και μεταξωτά ρούχα. Τα μάτια της ήταν γαλάζια. Φοβόταν να την αγγίξει. Πλησίασε αργά την κούκλα. Κοίταξε γύρω της να δει αν υπήρχε κανείς.  Ο λεηλατημένος  δρόμος ήταν έρημος.  Αλλά δεν ήταν σίγουρη για τον αν υπήρχε κάποιος στα γύρω ερείπια. Περίμενε.

Όταν βεβαιώθηκε πως δεν υπήρχε κανείς γύρω για να την δει, άρπαξε την κούκλα και έτρεξε μακριά. Έτρεχε γρήγορα μέχρι που έφτασε στο σπίτι της. Έδωσε στην κούκλα το όνομα ‘Ελένη’.  Με ρώτησε αν ήθελα να τη δω.

Ζούσε τη ζωή κάποιας άλλης. Για όλη της τη ζωή ήταν μία από τους ‘Άλλους’. Έμαθε να περπατάει στα νύχια των ποδιών της. Ποτέ δεν έκανε πολύ θόρυβο. Ποτέ δεν προκάλεσε μεγάλη προσοχή πάνω της. Δεν παντρεύτηκε ποτέ. Δεν τραγούδησε ποτέ δυνατά.

Τη ρώτησα «και τώρα;». Μου απαντά δεν υπάρχει «τώρα». Της λέω κάθεστε σε ένα ελληνικό καφέ και ακούτε ελληνική μουσική. Δεν το απολαμβάνετε έστω και λίγο? Μου απάντησε με μια ερώτηση: «Εσύ το απολαμβάνεις;»

Έχει δίκιο. Όλα χάθηκαν τώρα πια. Το πνεύμα έχει εγκαταλείψει την πόλη. Είναι ένα καταφύγιο για συνταξιούχους, φοιτητές και εργάτες που έρχονται και φεύγουν. Και λίγους περιστασιακούς τουρίστες.

Η Τουρκία έχει αλλάξει. Το ίδιο και η Ελλάδα. Αλλά η Σμύρνη και οι γνήσιοι άνθρωποί της έχουν παραμείνει ίδιοι. Μια γενιά φαντασμάτων του παρελθόντος. Που δεν ανήκουν πουθενά. Που ανήκουν σε έναν τόπο που δεν υπάρχει πια. Η ζωή της δεν έχει καμιά ελπίδα σε οποιαδήποτε φάση. Αλλά έχει ζωή. Μια ζωή που επαναλαμβάνεται σε οποιαδήποτε γεωγραφία. Μια ζωή ξεχασμένων εθνικοτήτων.  Σκόπιμα συντετριμένες ζωές.  Ζωές των ερειπίων 3000 χρόνων κουλτούρας.

Καθώς την άφηνα να φύγει, της έδωσα ένα φιλί στο μάγουλο. Ήταν μια υπενθύμιση ότι δεν ήμουν μόνος. Ήταν μια υπενθύμιση πως ούτε κι εκείνη ήταν μόνη. Η κοινότητα μιας χούφτας απομεινάρια.

Ψιθύρισε: «Ευχαριστώ»

Επέστρεψε στο μικρό της σπίτι. Στο σπίτι όπου σε ένα μικρό δωμάτιο υπάρχει μια κούκλα που τη λένε «Ελένη». 




My heartfelt thanks to Ms. Nancy Georgantzi for the excellent translation. Without her that story could have never be told.

Interview with a Crusader

(Short Version)

I interviewed a believer in faith. The faith of Islam. She is only one person. Her thoughts might not represent many who has and will join a "flotilla" that would try to cut through Israeli blockade to Gaza. But still she believes that it does. She says her approach to bring aid to people in Gaza is shared among many who acted on their faith. I remain uncertain.

"Why would you like to go to Gaza?"

"Because they are the only muslims. We want to help them fight Israel. Israel is killing children and women. I don't believe, say, the people in Turkey or in Saudi Arabia are muslims. People in Gaza are the real muslims, and their need precedes any other."

"But, IHH director said the aid to Gaza was not an Islamic move, it was a humanitarian move."

"Of course it was. But our priority was Islam. We wouldn't help anyone on the planet. There are too many in need, our priority was muslims, and real muslims for that matter."

"There are many muslims in need throughout the world. For example Kurds are muslims, too. And they are in dire need of aid in two different countries. Why wouldn't you help them for example?"

"They are muslims, but they are also tools of western, Israeli and Armenian conspiracies against Turkey. They don't deserve Islamic aid. Also, many people living in Turkey are not real muslims themselves. They don't turn to "Allah" in life. They prioritize other things in life. They don't put "Allah" first."

"If you go with the next flotilla, very likely, Israeli Defense Forces will intercept the ships and prevent them to enter Gaza. What will you personally do if they board the ship and attempt to arrest people on board?"

"We will not fight. People on the first flotilla didn't fight as well. Israelis started shooting them"

"But there were videos that depict people attacking soldiers and throwing one overboard?

"These were all fabricated. How can you believe what Israelis show? Or the USA or any western force? Their agenda is obvious. Israel and her western allies are powerful. They manipulate everything you see."

"But really why? Why would you leave your job, your life here and put yourself in harms way to help people who were accused of helping a terrorist organization and attacking Israeli land with missiles?"

"I'm not saying that I'll go for sure. But if there'll be another ship, whether it be from Turkey or not, I want to be in it. And God willing, I'll be. These people need our help. God directs us to help them. I won't be doing this for myself, or only for their welfare; I'd be doing it for the road to "Allah".

Surely, I asked her some personal questions as well. Although they are exempt from this interview, suffice it to say that, if my subject was a representative of the flotilla passengers, it was not a humane effort, it was an Islamic one. And it happened to make a point against Israel, their perceived tool of satan against Islamic welfare.

Turkish State as an Impediment to Progress

What is the function of a nation state? If we listen to Rousseau,

"... the general will is always in the right and inclines toward the public good" in a modern state. It finds its origins in a "contract". A contract between the electorate and elected to serve in the good of the people at large. As nation states evolved on historical axis, democracy became another of its essential characteristics. Democracy is;

"Government by the people; a form of government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised by them either directly or through their elected agents;... a state of society characterized by nominal equality of rights and privileges" according to Webster's Encyclopedic Dictionary. But let's listen to Alexis de Tocqueville:

"If it be admitted that a man possessing absolute power may misuse that power by wronging his adversaries, why should not a majority be liable to the same reproach? Men do not change their characters by uniting with one another; nor does their patience in the presence of obstacles increase with their strength. For my own part, I cannot believe it; the power to do everything, which I should refuse to one of my equals, I will never grant to any number of them."

"Democracy therefore requires minority rights equally as it does majority rule. As democracy is conceived today, the minority's rights must be protected no matter how singular or alienated that minority is from the majority society; otherwise, the majority's rights lose their meaning." It all boils down to the state being the servant to both the society and individual alike to provide equality in opportunity and freedom in its broadest sense to its contractors.

Historically Turkish state is a totally different story. Since its early evolution, especially after the influence of Islam, subjects ("kul") were the servants of the ruler, the "khalifa". The individual existed for the state, not vice versa. One might argue that was the case in feudal west as well. The underlying difference is the serfdom in the west was purely economical. And when the economical relations started to change, and with the rise of bourgeoisie, infrastructural change resulted in a totally different set of social relations between the different layers of society more easily. With the lack of industrial revolution, and a rising, independent and demanding bourgeoisie, Turkish society remained subjected to the state as a father figure who is supposed to take care of the individual or a cast in a dire situation.

Şerif Mardin states:

"the state was of greater importance to the Ottomans in comparison to the significance of the states in any other part in the region. This is why Turkey ... was founded on the power of the state..."

From its birth, modern Turkey was found on "Young Turk" ideals. Influenced heavily by late 18th century thought movements in Europe, they wanted a nation state for Turks. They were also influenced by the modernization attempts in Ottoman Empire in the same period which enabled them short terms in government. This made them familiar with the executive tradition of the Ottoman state. But they had one problem: remaining lands of the Ottoman Empire lacked a homogenous "nation". Society were divided through religious lines. Islamic law did not provide rights, it set boundaries. The boundaries which caused religious divide to became economical as well. Therefore the governing elite did not have anything in common with the economical elite to be joined in the same nation.

Mardin argues:

"The Turks’ social experience and the ethnic diversity over the past centuries have affected their understanding of religion. Religion and the state of Turkey always used to run parallel to one another. The current regime may be regarded as a continuation of the Ottoman solution in terms of the relationship between religion and the state."

We may consider the foundation and evolution of the modern Turkey as an attempt to find that nation, and at the same time a continuous effort to preserve "Turkish" tradition of statesmanship. Asia Minor, where Turkey finds its red line of existence, was mostly clean of its Christian population by the time the country was founded. But that resulted in a great loss in economical might. Coupled by the tradition of a strong state, this vacuum was filled with state enterprises as Turkey rose as a heavily centralized state machine.

1930's and the WW2 years were fortifications on the nation front as more oppression towards the general public and further discrimination of minorities resulted in a total climate of despair. Turkish society in general has an interesting reaction to despair. They become more obedient subjects. Only in 1950's, when the pressures from rural landlords and the periphery in general became so ostensive, then the state loosened its grip and allowed a second party, which of course on the first elections swiped the founding party of Turkey out of the government. A new bourgeoisie started to rise on the ashes of the minorities who had been forced out of the country. 

The honeymoon only lasted a decade. State machine was not ready to be overthrown by the people yet. A "coup", tailored to the needs of CHP, the founding party of the state, by  military forces resolved the issue. Then started what I call "revolutionary" years. One military intervention followed another, in ten year intervals, every single one of them calling themselves a revolution. And in every single one of them a generation of "adversaries" of the state were annihilated. Put in jail, hanged, forced to spend decades in prison and in many cases forced to escape the country. These were leftists with a wide range of ideologies at one time, communists at another. Although they never came to power or even shared a coalition government, a trademark of that period, extremists were always the culprit. State, when threatened by any hint of real democracy found its way to crush any opposition albeit imaginary. 

By tradition the only exception were the Islamists. "99% of the population is muslim" was their excuse in providing a legitimate ground for harassing the population with religion for political ends. They ended up in a comfortably majority government in 2002. 

Their story is subject of another article. Nevertheless, in 2010 the state in Turkey is at war with the idea of democracy. First of all, the establishment is older than the republic itself, they have invested in political tactics for over a century now. Secondly, general public opinion is on their side. The perceived protective quality of the state is hard to beat in collective subconscious, especially when worldly wealth is not a real prospect for John Doe. Even though when that state is protecting people from themselves and their welfare.

The cracking role of Turkish state as an impediment to progress is not observed to be going anywhere any time soon. There is only hope if Turkey will find itself a place among civilized nations in the minds and soul of its people.

A Doll Named Eleni

She was sipping her coffee alla Turca. Yes, she was old. But she was solid as a rock. She didn't shake, she didn't tremble. She kept her eyes at the sea. Her ever-seeing eyes were fixed to the crimson clouds at the sunset.


Her gaze followed the passers-by of today and the past. People she didn't see. People she didn't recognize. And I don't mean people she didn't know. She did not recognize them. Period. She turned and ordered a second coffee and additional water. That's when I met her eyes. She looked at me, and asked many questions without uttering a single word. I saw fear, curiosity, all at once in her gaze. I spelled "gia sas"(1) with my lips. Her face lightened. A beautiful, expansive smile invaded her face. We nodded.

I found the courage to move ahead and talk to her. She had sit there at least an hour alone. I followed the waiter who brought her second coffee, and leaned towards her.

"May I sit down?"

"Of course"

Most valuable words I have heard in my life! As I sat in the couch beside hers. I didn't know how to address her. I wanted to call her "giagia"(2). But I thought it to be disrespectful somehow. I asked her name. And she told me. I cannot repeat it here because she later asked me to keep her name anonymous later on. And this is the story of why.

She was born in 1918. That makes her 92 now. You cannot tell this by looking at her. She looks 70. She acts a lot younger though. She's alert and responsive to the faintest of inputs. When she was born, Smyrna was Smyrna. She does not personally remember of course. But she grow up with stories and memories. Her family had to leave their burning home in 1922. They moved to a relative's house near Ourla, a mere 50 kilometers from Smyrna. She comes from an original Smyrnian family who can trace her roots for hundreds of years. Her father was a merchant. Who wasn't back in these days? Surely his business was burned down in the fire.

They refused to go to Greece in the population exchange. They utilized illegal means to stay behind. But the times were harsh. It wasn't possible to speak their mother tongue in daily deals. As most did, they turned to French as a language. Greek was being replaced by French among non-muslims of the city.


Fire and further demolitions by the government left them without a church, in fact without any essentials of a community. Harsh conditions were everywhere. Every member of the family had to work.


She was working as a maid to a Turkish hanoum. One day when she left her workplace for home, she saw an old doll laying on the pavement. She remembers. The doll had blond hair. It had silken clothes. And her eyes were blue. She was afraid to touch it. She slowly went near the doll. And checked the passersby around. The torn street was empty. But she wasn't sure about the insides of the ruins around. She waited.


When she was sure no one was around to see her, she grabbed it, and ran away. Ran quickly until she was home. She named her "Eleni". She asked me if I want to see her.


She had a life of someone else. She was one of the "others" all her life. She learned to walk on her toes. She never made a lot of noise. Never attracted much attention to herself. Never married. Never sang a loud song. 


I ask her "what about now?". She tells me there is no "now" now. I tell her "you're sitting at a Greek Café, listening to Greek music. Don't you enjoy it a little?" She answers me with a question; "Do you?"


She's right. All is gone now. The spirit has left the city. It's a refuge for retirees, students and come today gone tomorrow workers. And a few incidental tourists. 


Turkey has changed. So did Greece. But Smyrna and her original people stayed the same. A generation of ghosts from the past. Belonging to nowhere, belonging to a place that doesn't exist anymore. Her life had no hope at any stage. But she has a life. A life that seldom repeats itself in any geography. A life of disregarded ethnicities. Purposefully crushed lives. Lives of the bricks and stones of a 3000 years old culture.


As I let her go, I planted a small kiss to her cheek. It was a reminder that I was not alone. It was a reminder that she was not either. A community of a handful of remainders.


As she whispered: "thank you".


She went back to the little house. The house on a little bedroom lays a little old doll called "Eleni"




ps. gia sas: Greek for "hello"
     giagia: Greek for "grandma"
Above pictures were taken by the author during the interview. Since my subject refused her name or picture to be used publicly, I instead used a picture of the chair she sat without her.

Remembering Msg. Luigi Padovese

The head of Catholic church for the lands east of Ankara in Turkey was assassinated on June 3rd, 2010. Msg. Luigi Padovese was a hard-worker in the first place. He lived in Iskenderun, close to holy places like Tarsus or Antakya in southern Turkey. He fought hard to establish an understanding between the Catholic church and Turkish islam. He tried to build bridges between Christians of different faiths in the area.

I'm not a catholic. In many aspects of life I do nor sympathize with Catholic administration of things. That being said I believe in the sacred characteristics of Asia Minor lands. From Antioch (Antakya) to Nicea (Iznik) this land is full of places and history that is dear to all Christians worldwide. It is a human legacy that must be preserved and nourished for the sake of the generations to come. And the job to to provide for this legacy today fells into hands of a few dedicated clergyman who work the area. An area where human rights and freedom of speech rights violations are common on a daily basis. It's a place where minorities are herded like cattle. 
When he was slain, Msg. Padovese was getting ready to go to Cyprus to meet the Pope in his visit to this troubled island. He was at an Assyrian Church mass the day before. His sermon included themes of tolerance and fraternity. His assassin whose family was with the church for more than 25 years should not have listened. Details are not known yet but apparently something happened in Msg. Padovese's house and his driver started stabbing him with a knife. Padovese was able to get out of the hose but the man followed him to the garden and finished him off by cutting his throat. 
Early police reports argue that the assassin, his driver was mentally ill. And they claim that this was a one man job. Of course questions like why Msg. Padovese kept close ties with a deranged person for such a long time and did not take precautions are yet to be answered.
In Turkey, if you are a minority, goodness breeds hatred. Humility causes abomination. In the last 5 years only many Christians including clergy were killed by people or groups whose real motives were never unearthed officially. Long and tiresome court cases go on for several years with minor convictions without deep investigations. The officials see killings of Christians in the country a "further clean-up" of unwanted elements. 
Days are ripe with the ideas of martyrdom and humanity because of the Flotilla attack by Israel. The so-called martyrs of the Flotilla, they were at least confronting a defense force of a legitimate country. Msg. Padovese is the genuine martyr. He was a peaceful bishop whose sole goal was to propagate love and love only. And he became the last of long line of martyrs defending love in Asia Minor.  
May God bless his soul.


ADDENDUM: On Saturday, June 5th, the author spoke with the family of the assailant. They confirm that they are muslim. Turkish media purported that all the family including the suspect were Christians. Msg. Franceschini of Smyrnian Catholic Church urges the authorities to follow up the case with due diligence and prevent from closing the case without a decent investigation as it happened on the previous acts of violence against Christians in Turkey.