One month has passed since a trip to Turkey. The delay in writing is embarrassing; I could make the excuse of settling in after the trip; which is both valid and a cop out. I returned on a manic high; it was as if I had my self esteem boosted with a cosmic B-12 shot.
Temporarily lifted out of a crumbling culture and be reminded that this has happened so many times before. Upon return so many things fell into place. Resumed on one project and started researching another. Work at a job that was stagnating picked up; at a pace that was hard to keep up with. Caving into ego and stress; the high crashed and I can now take a look at the trip in a more balanced perspective.
I was fascinated by the strength and innocence of the Kurds. They would reveal their heritage to tourists; possibly seeking sympathy and patronage. By the end of the trip I made some very positive brief meetings to learn their culture goes back to times when the Persian empire ruled Turkey and possibly Mesopotamia (5,000 – 4,000 BC). Yet, these divine people continue with a highly prolific breeding pattern; of 6 – 12 children in a family. The pattern of tribal conflict with more agrarian and semi industrial culture development is duplicated everywhere. It shames me that the United States assisted in genocide against the Kurds in the early 90s, under Bill Clinton.
Turkey is a land of many secrets. There is still an oral tradition that exists in the Sufi circles. Descendants from the early Christians have their own stories to tell, within their families. Reminding me that all is needed is to pay attention and then ask the right person at the right time. I recall visiting an old Christian Church and saying to our guide: “Turkey is a land of many secrets”. Which received a knowing reply of “Yes”. An obscure book; “I Came from Behind Kaf Mountain” came to me; shortly upon returning home; written by a tribal Prince from Akhbazian (the Caucasus region). Murat Yagan describes how that part of the world is held in the highest regard. Murat’s personal testimony describes finding his teacher in the Bektashi Sufi order and a living Christ in his heart. Reaching down through a tunnel directly through his heart. Then disillusioned with the his homeland he migrated to Canada. The heart felt path and need to distance myself from my parent culture is something I know well.
Then I was left with the lingering question; ‘what is next’? The book gave me some comfort as I returned to the mundane day to day existence of being a wage slave in this impoverished land of ours.
What turned out to be next is digesting some of the energy from some of the sacred sites I visited and coming to terms with the shattered self esteem of being a 21st century American. I would tell the Turks that this feels like a good time for Turkey but not a good time for the US of A. Then upon returning news of Turkey being drawn in as a resource and aide to Iran’s quest for nuclear energy and possibly a place to dump its waste. The south eastern region, or Kurdistan, would be my guess. The Turks heroic efforts to lend aid to their Palestinian brothers, sisters and children were shot down. In America we have done the same with our nuclear waste in the Southwest, an area of the country with many native people. Beating up SNCC workers in the 60s who came to help in the civil rights movement in the south. I can also safely say that in the circuit of ruins, and visitors from all over the world; I visited through none of these disturbances would have been felt. The exception being, Istanbul; where demonstrations may have occurred and we would see the BBC news in our hotel room.
I must remember all people in this world are essentially the same throughout this fair planet, with similar motives and patterns of behavior. Just different ways of expressing their need for dignity and empowerment. Some fight for the bigger bowl of ice cream like children; or in the so called adult world fuel to get from one place to the next faster, or to build bigger weapons and explosives, to wage battle over ideologies and energy resources.
The only hope I have is a perspective that civilizations come and go. Spengler’s “Decline of the West” was a great aid. Humanity at its core is still present within that life giving force is and the heartache of a struggling race to find new ways of living without destroying the maternal planet upon which we live and breathe. Taking in a region where we have walked for so long helps to light the lamp within and hopefully share it with those around me. It is only by remaining open to what life has to offer; may those eternal secrets be revealed.