The Best of Turkey: Its People
I grew up in the West, in America. When I packed my life up and moved east to Turkey it didn’t really occur to me that I had just spent 28 years learning a language and a culture and that now I was starting back at zero. Except I was starting at zero in my 28-year-old body. Humbling. Living in a second language and a second culture comes with a lot of blessings and challenges. For an independent-type like myself I can say that one thing that falls into both the blessings category and the challenges category is the need to depend on other people. Countless times I have gotten myself into situations that I didn’t know how to get out of and the best of Turkey, it’s people, showed up ready to help.
Sand
I’m from Tennessee and we don’t have a lot of sand. You know the song “Rocky Top”? Yeah, we do more rocks and mountains than sand. However, from my home in Turkey I can drive 45 minutes and be on the Mediterranean coast. Because of the texture of the sand cars can drive to the water’s edge. I’ve taken advantage of this convenience several times and found a little spot that I love.
The little spot that I love on the Mediterranean.
I found myself with a free day and I thought to myself, “Self, let’s go to that little spot on the Mediterranean that you love.” I noticed as I drove down onto the sand that the car handled differently than in previous times. But I put that troubling thought right out of my mind and enjoyed a beautiful day on the beach. When it was time to leave, however, the car didn’t move. It turned out that the city had recently added more sand to the beach, so it wasn’t packed down like I was used to. So my little rock-and-mountain-Tennessee-self didn’t know how to drive on such a powdery substance. I spun my tires in vain and buried myself even deeper. Then I stopped, got out of the car, and stood still for a few moments contemplating what I should do next.
At that moment a mom and dad with their three-year-old son walked up and offered to help. I guess they had seen my vain attempts to free my car from it’s bondage. I told them I had no idea what I was doing and they basically said “that’s obvious” but in a much kinder way. While we were talking an older man showed up with a shovel and immediately started digging under my car. Seeing that I was going to be of no help in freeing the car I played dinosaurs with the three-year-old. Within 15 minutes the car was free and back on solid ground.
I thanked them profusely and they said, “This is what the people of Turkey are like. If someone needs help, we will stop what we are doing and help them.” This is the best of Turkey. I love the willingness of the people to help strangers in need.
Mud
I really should stick with paved roads. But usually the really interesting places can only be found on the roads you have to think twice about before trying to drive on. This time it was after dark and I was making my way back to the main road after a day exploring a historical site. I was traveling with a group of friends and we were in two cars. The car I was following was larger than my car. They went through a muddy ditch and the car looked like it hit bottom and barely made it. I was in a much smaller car and thought “I have no chance.” It was dark with no street lights. I thought I could make out tire tracks from the dim light emitting from my headlights and chose to follow that path. We could take this moment to reflect on the merits or detriments of following in the paths of others, but I’ll spare you. The tracks must have been made by some sort of heavy machinery because I was stuck in the mud. Deep mud.
So I stopped, thought about getting out of the car, and changed my mind when I saw how deep the mud was. At that moment a man on a motorcycle pulled up and started talking. I couldn’t understand a word. I was in the eastern part of Turkey and a lot of people in the east are Kurdish and speak the Kurdish language. I only speak Turkish. My friend and I thought we heard the word “tractor” so hope began to rise in our hearts. After a couple more minutes of charades with the motorcycle man a truck full of men also stopped and offered to help. They lined up at the back of the car and started pushing and rocking the car in an attempt to free it from the quagmire I had so readily drove into. Just as a tractor crested the hill behind us the car popped free from the muck. I’m assuming that the motorcycle man had called his friend who owned a tractor to pull us out.
The car the next day
This is the best of Turkey. A man on a motorcycle, a truck full of friends, and the owner of a tractor all stopped what they were doing that night to rescue a novice driver like myself.
I could go on about the people on buses who have helped me find my way, or the taxi driver who picked me up and drove me to language school every day when my ankle was broken, or the neighbors who have answered my countless questions about how to pay this bill or get that problem fixed.
I don’t believe any one of us is perfect but that we are all created in the image of our Maker, so the best in humans resembles Him. The best of Turkey aren’t necessarily all Turks who grew up speaking Turkish at home. There are also Kurds, Zazas, Iraqis, Syrians, Afghans, Iranians, Palestinians, Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, Armenians, Syriac, Laz, and many others. This is a diverse land with diverse people who are some of the kindest I’ve had the honor of crossing paths with on my journey from the West to the East.
TO OUR FRIENDS IN THE WEST, KEEP LOOKING EAST!
Leslie Connors
Leslie is a co-founder of West2East. Originally from Tennessee, Leslie has called Turkey home for the past eight years. To read more about her, click here.