MIDYAT MUSINGS

On day two, we spent the morning tripping over torn up streets and revisiting the sights in Mardin, capped off by a luncheon marking the end of the Biennial.   We stepped through wooden doors  into a beautifully restored building to enjoy an outstanding meal of traditional Mardin cuisine; an oasis of beauty amid the rubble. The owner was a woman who had defied all odds, resisting the oppression of women in her culture to become a successful entrepreneur. She was running not one, but three restaurants, including one in Istanbul. She shared her journey  with us in a short welcome speech, moving the group to tears and applause.  As I've shared in previous posts, Turkey is a country of contrasts and full of surprises.  Even amid the most conservative and most traditional communities,  you'll find cosmopolitan rule breakers who defy stereotyping.

The people on tour with us were an eclectic bunch, including several well-traveled artists, writers and business owners. There were couples, a few divorced women, and a few married women traveling solo.  Most spoke at least some English and many were fluent. Most had lived abroad. Their children were all enrolled in top schools in the states. They were incredibly individualistic in their views on spirituality and religion, women's roles in society, and the changing international landscape in politics, education and business.

Traveling with these global citizens made me realize how limiting our US orientation can be, and how much we miss because of our dominant position on the world stage.  It is as if the view from the top has obscured our need to look from side to side or behind us.  Our conversations in Mardin made me wonder if the next generation of kids in the US are hungry enough, or have enough curiosity to remain competitive in a global economy.    If a small and developing country like Turkey is successfully grooming its children to be multi-lingual and cross culturally educated and are securing top spots in  institutions like MIT, Berkeley and Stanford, what is happening in China, India and Brazil?  I think a year of education abroad should be mandatory for US college students.

In the afternoon, we travelled to Midyat, another small city renowned for its jewelry making trade. As old and as storied as Mardin, it lives in its shadow.  We arrived close  to dusk, so had only a short time to wander the stone alleys and climb through the markets.  Still it was immaculate, stark and hushed in the fading light.  It seemed as if time had stopped and the world outside the walls had fallen away.  It made me wonder what Mardin might have looked like if its seams had not been ripped open.

We bought some wonderful trinkets for a song, then headed to  another beautifully restored hotel and restaurant, bathed in golden flood lights under a sky decorated with an oversized orange moon.   We on the rooftop terrace in the company of new friends. Across the way, a family watched the festivities from their own rooftop perch, then hunkered down behind a curtain made from rags drawn across their open doorway.  Again, there was the contrast; modern luxury and desperate poverty separated only by a narrow strip of empty space between two concrete rooftops.

Dinner was followed by a concert. The singer, Guvenç Dağuston, was accompanied by a fabulous violinist and two other musicians.  He had an incredible range and repertoire, including American jazz and pop. As the night grew longer, he broke into a rousing rendition of Turkish favorites.  Nearly everyone in a crowd of almost two hundred took to the dance floor, pounding and swaying and singing along to songs memorized in countless family celebrations. Their enjoyment of the music was contagious. The singing and dancing carried on long past midnight, before we staggered onto the bus. They danced in the aisles all the way back to the hotel. It was a magical night.