Fame

You get a different perspective on achievement when living in a foreign country. I am here without a network or a community.  I am not here to accomplish anything, meet with anyone, promote anything, or do anything.  I can just be...and anonymously at that.  It as if I am a fly on the Turkish wall of life!  It is both freeing and sometimes frightening....it makes you realize how limited our sphere of influence really is and how insignificant we are when stacked up against our 6+ billion global bunk mates.

Last week in Bodrum, our hotel hosted a birthday celebration for a very well-known Turkish movie producer and musician. He was the featured musician of the night and he and his band put together a three hour show featuring many of the acts that he produces.  (Again those marathon performances!) Nabil and I watched from the sidelines, enjoying the performances, but we of course didn't recognize any of the music or the performers (even though many of them were very very good)!   We watched the crowd go crazy as their favorites took the stage.  We watched people enthusiastically sing along, belting out the chorus of Turkish pop songs on cue. (Again, everyone knows the lyrics!)  We watched people try to wrangle autographs and make contact with celebrities.  This dance of people trying to get close to fame was meaningless for us.  The stars could have just as easily been trash collectors, waiters or business owners. Famous in Turkey,  unrecognizable to Americans.  It made me realize that fame is most often a local phenomenon...and even then only meaningful when there is a shared interest in the vehicle that created the opportunity for stellar performance.  If you didn't love or follow Turkish music, would these people be of interest to you, even if you were a Turk?

In seeking recognition, there are so many stages on which to play, so many fields in which you could aspire to greatness.  And then you must choose how large that stage will be both in terms  of audience and geographical reach.  Of course we can choose to be part of the audience rather than a player...and I suppose that suits most of us  best, most of the time.  Talent must be fueled by desire, and how many of us are gifted with the right combination of both?

And then, if we possess the ingredients for stellar achievement, when superstardom is finally achieved, it often becomes it own prison...furthering a disconnect from authentic relationships and spontaneous participation.


Yet, I think for most of us, there is an inherent desire to be recognized and appreciated, to connect to others and be part of something  bigger than ourselves. What drives us to seek this  approval?  Is it possible to be satisfied with only knowing ourselves, without being reflected in the eyes of others.

Watching that night of revelry also made me appreciate the power of the US marketing machine and it's ability to catapult certain performers and celebrities into the spotlight of the international stage.  While we didn't recognize the Turkish musicians, when they belted out American favorites and acknowledged the Turkish and European audience cheered wildly.  And it also made me realize the depth and breadth of talent that exists in the world  and how few people are recognized for it.

For now, I am enjoying my voyeuristic role...anonymous, free and open to exploring...but deep down hopeful that I will discover my purpose.