Turkey

We landed in Istanbul just before dawn, and watched the sunrise on our decent into the city. We were met by Senem, an RZIM friend in Istanbul. Our afternoon was spent taking in a bit of the city. We had lunch at a café on the water and then enjoyed a short cruise through Marmara Sea, an inland sea that connects the Black Sea to the Aegean Sea. Floating down the Bosphorus Straight, on one side we could see the part of Istanbul that lies in Asia, and on our other side, the part that lies in Europe.

An interesting blend of both east and west, Istanbul was quite unique compared to the other cities we visited along the way. You still wake up to the prayer call at 5am every morning, but it is quite a cosmopolitan city. We wound our way through the tiny alley ways that make up an outdoor market, and even somehow managed to keep my mother from following through on her good intentions of breaking up a street fight that started right in front of us. I realized on this trip that she had even more courage and spunk than I knew! Thankfully, this time, she decided to let them work it out for themselves. We met up with Senem’s husband and three year old little boy in the evening, and then we all turned in reasonably early to get ready for our busy day of meetings.


Our first meeting was with an organization that was one of the first shelters in Istanbul for women who are victims of domestic violence. Answering about 300 phone calls and applications a month, this effort seeks either to refer women to the appropriate place for help, or in severe circumstances, provide shelter for them and their children while they get back on their feet. This was an initial step in the interview process, and they are preparing a detailed proposal for our review. The shelter has operated thus far largely on an international grant, but the funds have now been fully utilized and future funding is in question.

Our second meeting was with a representative from the Istanbul Protestant Church Foundation. Following the earthquake of 1999 that left more than 17,000 people dead, the Foundation built a school for children directly affected by the tragedy. In this initial brain-storming meeting, we discussed potential opportunities to partner, particularly in areas concerning education for youth, as the educational opportunity for young girls remains quite low in certain parts of Istanbul due to the cultural responsibilities and financial limitations of poverty.

Next we met with an organizational effort that reaches out to homeless children, providing food, showers, laundry facilities, etc., to about 35 children a day, and providing 24-hour care to an additional 35 children in a separate facility. Here, we spent time asking questions of a woman who works in the administrative part of the organization. But what moved us was the input of a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, who joined the conversation. He himself had grown up on the streets, and had been a child who visited the shelter for basic needs. Though he did not speak a word of English, we did not even have to wait for Senem’s translation to be able to understand the passion and depth of suffering he had faced. It is sometimes amazing to realize what can be communicated without any understanding of the actual words. He provided us with a face, a real look at the life of a child growing up in these circumstances, and now a man living with the effects of these conditions. He said education is not even enough to solve the crisis, and so we asked him what would be of help to these children. And while he, like all of us, couldn’t give a text book answer for a perfect solution, his answer was filled with the heartache of it all, and the certainty that there was no simple way out. What hurt my heart most was when he said that even if by chance these children get the opportunity for education, and even if by greater chance they can get a job, they often return to the streets because they are never totally accepted in the “real” world, and so their shame drives them back to the streets where no one looks down on them and where they can feel at home. Their days are filled with violence, he said, and he has lost many friends in street fights, but it’s easier to live a life of crime and violence, and essentially disrespect yourself, than it is to make yourself vulnerable to others and have them do the disrespecting for you. I wished right then, that we could just fix his world, just that one. He spoke of the need for counseling and therapy to help them recover from where they had been, and he spoke of efforts geared toward prevention to eliminate the damage for some in the first place. He gave us much to think about, and the intensity of the angst in his eyes will not be forgotten.

Finally, we ended the afternoon with a meeting with a group striving to open a shelter for teenage girls who have left homes or marriages for various reasons involving safety and care. The project is still very new in its undertaking, and we will keep in touch as they move forward and continue to gain a better understanding of their work.

The three of us then crumpled into a taxi, mentally drained from the series of intense meetings, but all time well spent. Senem, who bore the greatest burden in providing complete translation on both sides of the conversation in each meeting, had red eyes that you could tell longed for her guests to leave so they could rest a bit! Yet she smiled and welcomed us for more time with her before our departure. So we hit the streets for some last minute gift shopping and a final dinner with Senem, her husband, and that little boy who won over my mother’s heart with the first flash of his dimples. Rising at 3:30am, the three of us headed to the airport, where Senem bid us goodbye and returned home for what I hope was a very long nap that she more than earned.

And now we are home. Glad to be near family and friends and return to the life that bears our imprint, but as always, is not quite the same as when we left.