Diversity is always most welcome

The on-arrival training happened somewhere in the middle of everything. I had already “arrived” some weeks before, so I figured I knew everything I needed - but it's always hard to organize something like this and have every partecipant on the same page.

So I ventured into the big hotel, our home for the following 5 days, with almost the same spirit that drove me when I first got to Turkey: that very peculiar, fresh familiarity.

And I guess I wasn't alone in that. All in all, the volunteers were about 50, all coming from various parts of Europe and living in just as many parts of Turkey. Together, we were drawing a map that extended from East to West, North to South, and our experiences were just as many – if not more.

In fact, during the following days we got to know a lot about each other (the coffee breaks were numerous, given the current Covic regulations) and we all could share our different experiences and expectations.

This proved to be just as important as the training itself, or dare I say complementary: the institutional part being taken care by the nice people at the turkish National Agency, we were providing to each other the more informal, peer-to-peer one  .

Sometimes the two things would match, sometimes not, and when this would happen there was always room to express that to the trainers, who would address any complaints or doubts both in group or privately.

In all this I was feeling in my element: most people shared my experience and my point of view on many things, which is great when you want to reconnect with some sides of yourself that you inevitably set aside when you're abroad; I can now say I have new friends, we're frequently in touch and plan to meet again in the near future.

But it was also refreshing to share moments and spaces with people who are exactly the opposite as you are. Expecially when it's necessary to collaborate and be productive, different approaches are more stimulating and less distracting. And besides that, new stories and new eyes help a lot not to stay attached to your own convinctions.

Again, diversity is always most welcome.

To me, the most interesting part was noticing how the various “regional” characters would manifest in such a big group of people. At the beginning, everybody was gravitating around his own culture, somehow suspiciously observing the others from the distance, but in the end we were all mixed up and really enjoying our “globalish” identity.

Eventually, five days felt like one and twenty at the same time. We learned new things, refreshed old ones, made friends and managed to feel less “alone” and more as a part of a network. Or family. Hadi gidelim!

There's enough for everybody here

 

Here we go again, I though, when the bumpy concrete carpet that is Istanbul appeared on my plane's window.

Once again I was about to walk between two worlds, one more familiar and comfortable, the other constantly shape shifting as I tried to grasp it. Will I get it this time, or will it get me first? This chasing game is all I'm in for everytime I hop on a plane leaving for some, let's say, less predictable land.

Most of the times, I lost it for lack of patience or time to understand its rules, but this time over I have more time to stay and “get it”, and patience will hopefully follow suit.

Two months is what I have this time. Two months - maybe more - and a new city, Ankara, that I've only seen from a speeding bus once and that is now waiting to be my stomping grounds for some time.

I know Istanbul quite well now, as I've been there many times, but as much as I love it and it is fascinating I also understand now that it is not Turkey. Or better, it is ALL Turkeys, a place that is pulled in all directions by invisible energies that wants it once european, once eastern, once holy, once dirty.

Ankara instead is the capital, the newer point of balance to this massive and manifold country. I can already feel the difference from what I've known so far, as this is a much “tidier” city; streets are wide and airy, life appears to be more inclined to rush less and sleep early, and the State's institutions make themselves considerably more noticed than elsewhere.

But is this Turkey, I wonder? Or is it a projection of what this country thrives to be? Surely, by the scale of the efforts made to celebrate the country's history one may think that the ambition to greatness is all there; and no better place to notice this than Anıtkabir, the massive mausoleum and resting place to modern Turkey's founder Atatürk.

I visited it on my second day in the city, and in all its majestic monumentality I could not help but seeing echoes of similar places in Europe, where the care to remember our past is paramount. In a place so young and mixed like Turkey, instead, such celebration perhaps feels slightly misplaced.

But I want to get deeper into that as I'm living here, as I'm sure that I am still influenced by my western mentality and I surely don't know enough about this country's history and culture.

Having made all these deep sociolpolitical considerations, I can now finally focus on my favourite part of cultural exchange: food!

The whole world knows that us Italians are the snobbiest when it comes to eating, and as a food-loving Italian I am perfectly aware that I can easily fit that description. But I'll go against my cultural instincts and say that turkish food is just great. Sure, meat is omnipresent and perhaps olives and tea don't make the easiest breakfast to approach when coming from cappuccino and cornetto, but in general it's a total win for me.

Meze are the best invention since probably the wheel, ayran should be mandatory everywhere in place of water, and lokum is the best possible way to glue one's teeth together.

So, in conclusion, there's enough for everybody here. Just be ready to set some of your convinctions aside, because there is so much here to take in that you must leave some room inside your brain. And soul.

My experience abroad

Here we go again, I though, when the bumpy concrete carpet that is Istanbul appeared on my plane's window.

Once again I was about to walk between two worlds, one more familiar and comfortable, the other constantly shape shifting as I tried to grasp it. Will I get it this time, or will it get me first? This chasing game is all I'm in for everytime I hop on a plane leaving for some, let's say, less predictable land.

Most of the times, I lost it for lack of patience or time to understand its rules, but this time over I have more time to stay and “get it”, and patience will hopefully follow suit.

Two months is what I have this time. Two months - maybe more - and a new city, Ankara, that I've only seen from a speeding bus once and that is now waiting to be my stomping grounds for some time.

I know Istanbul quite well now, as I've been there many times, but as much as I love it and it is fascinating I also understand now that it is not Turkey. Or better, it is ALL Turkeys, a place that is pulled in all directions by invisible energies that wants it once european, once eastern, once holy, once dirty.

Ankara instead is the capital, the newer point of balance to this massive and manifold country. I can already feel the difference from what I've known so far, as this is a much “tidier” city; streets are wide and airy, life appears to be more inclined to rush less and sleep early, and the State's institutions make themselves considerably more noticed than elsewhere.

But is this Turkey, I wonder? Or is it a projection of what this country thrives to be? Surely, by the scale of the efforts made to celebrate the country's history one may think that the ambition to greatness is all there; and no better place to notice this than Anıtkabir, the massive mausoleum and resting place to modern Turkey's founder Atatürk.

I visited it on my second day in the city, and in all its majestic monumentality I could not help but seeing echoes of similar places in Europe, where the care to remember our past is paramount. In a place so young and mixed like Turkey, instead, such celebration perhaps feels slightly misplaced.

But I want to get deeper into that as I'm living here, as I'm sure that I am still influenced by my western mentality and I surely don't know enough about this country's history and culture.

Having made all these deep sociolpolitical considerations, I can now finally focus on my favourite part of cultural exchange: food!

The whole world knows that us Italians are the snobbiest when it comes to eating, and as a food-loving Italian I am perfectly aware that I can easily fit that description. But I'll go against my cultural instincts and say that turkish food is just great. Sure, meat is omnipresent and perhaps olives and tea don't make the easiest breakfast to approach when coming from cappuccino and cornetto, but in general it's a total win for me. Meze are the best invention since probably the wheel, ayran should be mandatory everywhere in place of water, and lokum is the best possible way to glue one's teeth together.

So, in conclusion, there's enough for everybody here. Just be ready to set some of your convinctions aside, because there is so much here to take in that you must leave some room inside your brain. And soul.