For readers who don't speak Turkish, this post is about the following book chapter, which I highly recommend:

"How to Protect Human Dignity from Science," Daniel C. Dennett, March 2008.

Ruhlar ve makineler


Lisedeyken okuduğum Sofi'nin Dünyası'nda hiç unutamadığım bir cümle var. "Eğer beynimiz bizim anlayabileceğimiz kadar basit olsaydı, bizim onu anlayamayacak kadar aptal olmamız gerekirdi." Dün Newsweek Türkiye'nin eski bir sayısında korku, öfke, aşk, mutluluk ve inanç gibi "duygu"ların beynin hangi bölümlerinde oluştuğunu açıklayan bir yazı okudum. Yazının başında haklı olarak şu soru soruluyordu: Acaba duygularımızın, tepkilerimizin ve başarısızlıklarımızın biyolojik açıklamalarını öğrenmek, bunları değiştiremeyeceğimizi düşünmemize yol açar, bizi ahlaki tembelliğe iter mi? Dergi şöyle cevap veriyor:

"Aslında gerçekten her şeyi bize beynimiz yaptırıyor. Ama yine de bunun anlamlı hayatlar yaşamamız ve ahlaki seçimler yapmamızla ilgili tutarlı bir yanı var. Bu yılın başında filozof Daniel Dennett, ABD Başkanlık Biyoetik Konseyi için hazırladığı bir yazıda, zihinsel hayatımızın biyolojisiyle ilgili bilgi sahibi olmanın bize avantaj sağlayacağını söylüyor. Filozofa göre, bu durum karar alma mekanizmalarımızı ve hatta ahlâki kararlarımızı bile geliştirebilir. Dennett, böylece insan türünün hayatta kalma şansının da artacağını belirtiyor."

Tabii bu yanıtın içini doldurmak için öncelikle Dennett'ın yazısını okumak gerekiyor. Arada sırada yaşadığım ve beni şaşırtan tecrübe ise şu: Beni mantıksız, "anormal" davranmaya iten bir duyguyu yaşarken bunun biyolojik nedenleri olduğunu sezmek, ancak yine de o duygudan kurtulamamak. Örneğin yorgunluğun getirdiği sabırsızlık ve alınganlık ya da kahve içtiğimde hissettiğim iyimserlik ve enerji. Bazı günler işlere kolayca yoğunlaşabilirken, enerji doluyken, bazı günler kapıldığım anlamsızlık hissi.

Birinci elden yaşadığımız bu tecrübeler, kaçınılmaz olarak akla şu soruları getiriyor: Duygu, düşünce ve davranışlarımızın ne kadarı bizim kontrolümüzde? Biz ne kadar özgürüz, seçimlerimiz ne kadar anlamlı? Yetenek ve başarılarımızın ne kadarı sahiden bizim? Uyuşturucu etkisi altındayken bir sanat eseri yaratan sanatçı, o eserin üzerinde ne kadar hak iddia edebilir? Bir suçlunun akli dengesinin yerinde olup olmadığı, bir suçu "bilerek ve isteyerek" işleyip işlemediği, bir kurbanın ruhsal sağlığının bozulup bozulmadığı hangi kriterlere göre belirlenebilir? Yapışık ikizler, beyninin içinde ikizinin ayağını taşıyan çocuk, "hamile erkek" gibi "anomalilerin" farkında olmak, insan hayatının anlamı, değeri ve ona bu anlamı veren varsayımlarımız hakkında şüpheye düşmemize yol açıyor. İnsan hayatını çevreleyen anlam halesi ve ahlaki tabular ortadan kalktığında ise, vücutlarımız değeri belirlenebilir birer "ürün" (commodity) haline gelmiyor mu?

Dennett'ın yazısı gerçekten çok ilginç. Bilimin "açıklayabildiği" her yeni şey, eski inançlarımızı sorgulamamıza yol açıyor. İnanç sistemimizdeki her değişiklik ise, toplumsal ve kişisel hayatımızda büyük ve geri dönülmez değişimleri beraberinde getiriyor. Dennett, yatırımcıların beklentileri değiştiği için birden bire değeri düşen bir para birimini, hak-hukuk ve güvenlik sağlaması beklenmediği için iflas eden bir devleti, ya da bir kasabanın birden kendilerini tehlikede gördükleri için kapılarını kilitlemeye başlayan sakinlerini örnek gösteriyor. Ona göre, bilimin açıklamaları ışığında birden her davranışımızı biyolojik nedenlere bağlamamız, inanç sistemlerimizde tehlikeli değişimlere yol açabilir.

Dennett, inanç sistemimizin bazı yönlerini, bilimin getirdiği şüpheciliğe karşı korumamız gerektiğini düşünüyor. Bunu tutarlı bir şekilde yapmanın yolu da, inançlarımızın gerçeklere dayandığını, doğruluklarının kanıtlanabileceğini iddia etmektense (çünkü bilimin ortaya çıkardığı gerçekler karşısında bu iddiaların ikna kabiliyeti azaldı), inançlarımızın ve değerlerimizin sonuçlarına bakmaktan geçiyor. (Hatice'ye değil neticeye bak.) Burada Dennett, ehliyet alma yaşını örnek gösteriyor. Herkesin on altı ya da on sekiz yaşında araba kullanmaya hazır olduğunu bilimsel olarak kanıtlayamayacağımız gibi, insanların araba kullanmaya hazır hale gelebilmesi için geçmesi gereken belirli bir olgunluk eşiğinin varolduğunu bile iddia edemeyiz. Ancak ehliyet alma yaşı toplumdaki bir belirsizliği giderir ve trafiğin güvenliğini artırır. Ehliyet yaşının "bilimsel" olarak tamamen mantıklı olup olmadığını tartışmaya açmak, zaman ve enerji kaybından başka bir işe yaramaz.

Dennett'a göre, geleceğe dair beklenti oluşturabilmek ve plan yapabilmek için, herkesin kabul ettiği inanç ve değerlere sahip olmamız gerekiyor. Örneğin demokratik rejimlerin devam edeceğini varsayabilmek için, demokratik rejimlerin Churchill'in dediği gibi alternatiflerinden daha iyi olduğuna inanmamız gerekir. Para biriktirebilmek için paranın değerinin düşmeyeceğine, yatırım yapmak için hukuk düzeninin doğruluğuna ve değişmezliğine inanmak zorundayız.

Filozof, bu değer ve inançların varlığını sürdürebilmek için bazen kendi kendimize yalan söylemek zorunda olduğumuzu kabul ediyor. Burada psikiyatrist George Anslie'nin Breakdown of Will (İradenin Çöküşü) kitabından alıntılar yapıyor. Bu değer ve inançları kaybetmemek adına gerçeği arama ve gerçeği gösterme güdümüze ters düşen şeyler yapıyoruz, gerçeği bazen görmezden geliyoruz. Buna örnek olarak ise, Dennett etnik eşitliğe inancı korumak adına, değişik ırklara mensup kişilerin biyolojik farklılıklarına ilişkin yararlı sonuçlar doğurabilecek araştırmaların görmezden gelinmesini gösteriyor.

"İnançların stratejik korunması"nın hayatımızda yakından bildiğimiz pek çok örneği var. Dennett'in Anslie'nin kitabından alıntıladığı bu bölümü tam olarak çevirmezsem olmaz:

"Hesaplayarak ya da ondan bir medet umarak gösterdiğimizde mahvolan çabanın değerli kalmasını istiyorsak, hilebazlıktan vazgeçmemeliyiz. Örneğin, seks ya da 'sevilmek' için gösterilen romantizm, para için yaptığımız mesleğimiz, insanlardaki etkisini görmek için yapılan bir sanat performansı kabalık olarak görülür. Seks, sevgi, para ya da alkışın motive edici etkisinin çok fazla farkında olmak gösterilen çabayı mahveder, üstelik sırf etrafımızdaki insanların gözünü açtığı için değil. Çabalarımızın asıl kıymetiyle ilgili inançlarımız, bu inançların doğruluğundan daha değerlidir, çünkü bu inançlar gerekli olan hilebazlığı sağlar."

Ne için gerekli olan? Gösterilen çabanın, ortaya çıkan ürünün değerli olması için gerekli olan. Yani ortaya çıkan ürünün gerçekten değerli olmasını istiyorsak, onu hesapsızca, saflıkla, samimiyetle, "onun için ve yalnızca onun için" yaptığımıza önce kendi kendimizi inandırmamız gerekir. Yani saf olmasak da bir an için saflığı yakalamak, kendimizi saf sanmak. İnançlarımızı korurken de, onlara gerçekten inanabilmek istiyorsak, şüphelerimizi unutmak zorundayız. Yani bazen en mantıklısı mantığı elden bırakmak.

pazardan önceki pazar

ben ilkokuldayken, belki ortaokulun başlarında da, anneannemin Bandırma'daki evine giderdik sömestre tatillerinde. teyzemler de gelirdi. tatil tam iki hafta sürerdi, bir cumartesiden bir sonraki pazara. ilk hafta çok güzel geçerdi. ama tam bir hafta sonra, cumartesiden sonra, gideceğimiz pazardan önceki pazar benim içim daralmaya başlardı. bilirdim ki tam bir hafta sonra eve, okula dönüş var. ikinci hafta hep gün sayarak geçerdi. ikinci hafta boyunca ara ara düşünürdüm tam bir hafta sonra orda olmayacağımı.

şimdi de haftaya dizileri seyredemeyeceğimi düşünüyorum. biliyorum ki gidince alışacağım, kaç kere alıştım. yoksa o kadar zaman geçmezdi kolay kolay. ama her kış moralim bozuluyor.

Candles

My dad found out what Hanukkah candles mean, and how the ritual goes. He told me the story, but I didn't find it very cute for some reason. I said I didn't believe in religion because it's a way of dominating people. Finding meaning in common stories and symbols bind people together - so do common enemies. I gave women's rights as an example of a fundamental flaw in religions. If religions were the real thing, they would have pointed to universal truths, truths that stand the test of time.

But then I thought, if God gave us all the right answers, S/he would be insulting our intelligence.

truth and dare

I know at the end of this entry you'll think "so what?" but I still want to share my discovery.

Once I thought that I could only love myself if someone loves me. And I have mistaken the fear of loss for love. Need for love.

The two years since have taught me that this is not love. They taught me that I'm valuable even if noone takes notice. They have also taught me to take notice when I see someone valuable. They have taught me that my value doesn't depend on someone's opinion of me, it depends on whether I can still respect myself. They have taught me that it's important to be my own person and be interested in things. And if I run across someone who also cares about things, that's good. If they care about me, even better.

"The Dark Pool" ve Masumiyet Müzesi

Janet Cardiff, George Bures Miller @ Modern Art Oxford, 18 Ocak 2009'a dek

Dün Oxford Modern Sanat Müzesi'nde Janet Cardiff ile George Bures Miller'ın sergisine gittik. Sergide the Dark Pool diye bir eser vardı. Loş ve dağınık bir odanın içinde eski kitaplar (hep bir sayfaları açılıp tutturulmuş, astroloji -yengeç burcu-, çay fincanı falı, açılmış duran sayfası bir elma ağacını tarif eden bir hikaye kitabı, yüz okuma kitabı -stability-), tabakların içinde ekmek, çörek kalıntıları, değişik boylarda megafonlar, hoparlörler, gramofonlar, içine baktığınızda üç boyutlu bir resim görünen dürbünler -dedem Hac'dan getirmişti bunlardan-, çay fincanı okuma kitabının yanında açılmış çay fincanları, askılardan sarkan elbiseler, gecelikler, kullanım tarifiyle birlikte bir dilek tutma makinesi, su dolu bir tankın içinde batık bir nesne, sanki Orta Amerika'dan bir göl manzarası maketi -No Country for Old Men-, minik heykelcikler. Dolaşıp nesnelere baktıkça yanlarındaki hoparlörler uyanıyordu, bir müzik ya da dialog duyuluyordu. Meğer bu, her bir nesneye bakıldığında canlanan anıları simgeliyormuş. Bir antika dükkanı gibiydi, içinde çok yoğun yaşanmış, toplanmasına vakit kalmamış... ya da her yaşananı saklayıp göstermesi istenen bir oda gibi.

Tabii müze gezerin aklına o anıları getiremez bu nesneler, hepsi yeni. Olsa olsa birer işaret olabilirler, görmek isteyene. Ama bir şey söylemek için çok erken.

omg I'm not special!

While having company in misery feels good (so that one can feel normal), having company in considering yourself special, enlightened, liberal, artsy, intellectual, authentic etc. doesn't feel so good (unless you know and hang out with an exclusive group of special people - that might actually have a compounding effect on your self-importance)... In fact, I feel like my life has lost plenty of meaning since I started reading this blog. It's quite funny still - and as always, its value lies in its truth.

An end to "if you're special and you know it clap your hands!"

P.S. I would like to add "self-depreciating self-aware reflection" to stuff white people like.

yeni şeyler

Şu aralar mümkün olduğunca yeni şey görmeye, çok şey dinlemeye, çok şey okumaya çalışıyorum. Yeni, heyecanlı bir şeyler duyduğumda, gördüğümde sanki beynimde bir pencere açılıyor, püfür püfür temiz hava doluyor içeri. Yoksa hep aynı şeyleri düşünmenin hep aynı sakızı çiğnemekten farkı yok. Beynim de o zaman suyu mu, yağı mı eksik olduğundan nedir, çekmeyen bir motor gibi oluyor, zincirler boşa dönüyor, ağlar sarıyor her yanı. Amelie filminde vardı değil mi o söz, ya kız oğlana, ya oğlan kıza "sen olmasaydın duygularım bir zamanlar hissettiklerimin kabuğundan ibaret olurdu" diyordu. Hayatımızda yeni şeyler, yeni insanlar olmasa, ya da bildiğimizi sandıklarımızın yeni yönlerini keşfetmesek, şaşırmasak, hep eski duygularımıza, eski düşüncelerimize, varsayımlarımıza yeniden, yeniden katlanmak zorunda kalırdık. Yeni şeyler bizi değiştirmese, bize bilmediğimiz taraflarımızı göstermese, biz de inatla hep aynı hataları yapar, katlanılmaz olurduk.

Uzun zamandır afişlerini metroda görüp, gitmek isteyip de tembellikten gitmediğim bir kaç sergiye gittim. Önce geçen Pazar Miró, Calder, Giacometti, Braque sergisine gittim. Bu dört sanatçının hepsi de Paris'teki Maeght galerisinde eserlerini sergilemiş, ama tarzları birbirinden çok farklı. Miró bir çocuk gibi, kalın ama yumuşak çizgiler, yuvarlaklar çiziyor, cart kırmızı, sarı, yeşil çizgiler. Calder demir tellerden, levhalardan cisimler yapıp birbirlerine bağlıyor, havaya asıyor, ağaçlar, yeni güneş sistemleri, kuşlar, uçaklar yapıyor - her şey birbirine bağlı, dengede duruyor. Braque karanlık kırların, mitolojik hikayelerin, kendi içindeki karanlığın, umudun resimlerini yapıyor, hep koyu renklerde. Ben ama en çok Giacometti'nin heykellerini, çizimlerini sevdim. İnce ince incecik kadınlar, adamlar, köpekler yapıyor. Sanki kopacak gibi, kırılacak gibi, sanki eriyor gibiler. Çizimleri ise bir kaç kara çizgiden ibaret - çünkü bir kaç çizgiden kalın değiller, ama yine de anlaşılıyor kim oldukları, bir bütünler. Meğer Giacometti bir modele bakarak yapıyormuş heykellerini, o modelin aslında ne kadar kırılgan olduğunu görüyor, aslında ne görüyorsa onun heykelini yapıyormuş.

Sonra dün Rothko sergisine gittim Tate Modern'da. İki sergiye giriş bileti neredeyse daha ucuza geldiğinden, bir de Cildo Meireles sergisine bilet aldım, aklımda hiç olmadığı, sanatçının adını ilk dün duyduğum halde. Giacometti'nin heykelleri nasıl ince, kırılgansa, Rothko'nun kanvasları o kadar sağlam, güçlü, derin. Katman katman renkler sanki üçüncü bir boyut kazanmış, kanvasın dışına yükseliyor. Aslında sanırım Rothko, renklerin resmini yapıyor. Kırmızının, siyahın, grinin, kahverenginin resmini, onların gücünün, birlikteliğinin resmini.

Asıl sürpriz ise girizgahtan çıkarabileceğiniz gibi, Cildo Meireles. Brezilyalı sanatçının eserleri çok zekice. Burada eser, Meireles'in kafasındaki fikrin, gözlemlediği, anlatmak istediği şeyin dünyadaki elçisi. Burada hem fikrin kendisi, hem de eserin o fikri ne kadar iyi temsil ettiği önemli. Meireles, "bence sanat objesi, her şeye rağmen, anında baştan çıkarıcı olmalıdır" diyor. Çünkü güzel bir fikrin çekici olması için zekice anlatılması gerekir. İzleyiciyi kendilerine davet eden, izleyici onlara gittiğindeyse sözlerini tutan, izleyiciyi rahat ettiren, ona ilginç şeyler söyleyen eserler bunlar.

Bu birbirinden farklı üç sergi, bana bir sanat eserine değerini veren şeyin ne olduğunu düşündürdü. Bence bu, onun yeniliği, benzersizliği ve samimiyetidir. Ya hikaye, ya üslup, ya her ikisi de - yeni, benzersiz ve samimi olmalıdır. Bilen gözler bir Miró ya da Braque resminin kime ait olduğunu seçebilir. Ancak her bir Miró eseri de, sanatçının diğer eserleriyle üslup yönünden tutarlı olmakla birlikte (ne de olsa aynı sanatçı, samimiyetle yaratıyor bu eserleri) yeni bir hikaye anlatmalıdır. Her yeni şey anlamlı olacak diye bir kural yok. Ancak bize anlamlı gelen, bizi heyecanlandıran pek çok şey, yeni ve benzersizdir.

Greek antiquity, Roman law, the conflict between the Pope and the German Kaiser in the Middle Ages, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, all these that give Europe its specific character. Friedbert Pflüger, CDU

Christianity is understood not so much as a belief system or a theology but as a civilizational idea, political culture and lifestyle. As such, for example, it is believed that the cultural roots of some fundamental secular European values, such as the separation of spiritual and worldly affairs, the separation between the public and the private spheres, the idea of natural rights protecting the individual against the state, and, following Max Weber, the culture of capitalism, all have their roots in Europe's Christian heritage. Hakan Yilmaz, Turkish identity on the road to the EU: basic elements of French and German oppositional discourses, page 298.

We have often witnessed peoples, societies and nations outside the Western world – and I can identify with them easily – succumbing to fears that sometimes lead them to commit stupidities, all because of their fears of humiliation and their sensitivities. I also know that in the West – a world with which I can identify with the same ease – nations and peoples taking an excessive pride in their wealth, and in their having brought us the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and Modernism, have, from time to time, succumbed to a self-satisfaction that is almost as stupid. Orhan Pamuk, in his Nobel lecture


Laiklik


Peki bu Avrupalıların yaşayıp da bizim yaşamadığımız nedir? Ticaretle zenginleşen, bilimle aydınlanan burjuva sınıfının, artık kendilerini yönetme yetkisini Tanrı'dan aldığını iddia eden aristokrasinin masallarına kanmaması mı? Biz ise kendimiz keşfetmedik bunu. Kitaplardan okuyanlarımız, dışarda görenlerimiz ise herkese anlatmak istediler, ancak bazı şeyler anlatılmakla, çabucak öğrenilmiyor. İnsanların ilerlemesini geri gördükleri şeyleri yasaklayarak sağlayabileceklerini umdular. Hem Avrupalılardan farklı olabilir (çünkü bir ulus devlettik ve Avrupalılar bize düşmandı) hem de onları kendi oyunlarında yenebilirdik. Oysa insanların değerleri, alışkanlıkları halının altına süpürülerek yok olmuyor. İnsanlar sizin anlattığınız hikayeye inanamıyorlar hemen. Kendileri ikna olmaları gerek. Bu da zaman alıyor.

O yüzden mi acaba bizim muhafazakarlarımız, Avrupalıların muhafazakarlarından daha korkutucu? O yüzden mi biz dini değerlerin yaşamlarımıza empoze edilebileceğinden (hatta şimdiden edilmekte olduğundan) korkuyoruz?

Around that track

Long ago, I wrote that people draw their strengths from others' weaknesses. A position of power is only possible if one has subordinates. And usually, these little luxuries are gained after years of hard work. That's why people have little incentives to help newcomers or outsiders. People want to enjoy some exclusivity, because they paid the price for it.


Over the past couple of days, I have been reading about an argument I completely overlooked before. Up to now, I dismissed the argument that Turkey and the European Union are incompatible, because they belong to different value systems. I thought this was fatalistic, I thought it robbed Turkey (and other countries who are admittedly behind) the chance to reform their ways. I thought countries should be allowed to climb the world's civilization ladder if they are willing to do so. It was the only way the EU would have a meaning and future greater than itself, the only way forward. That's why arguments emphasizing the irreconcilable differences in identity and values seemed lazy to me (just like it is lazy for Turkish nationalists to argue that we are too different.) I rallied against the fact that Turkish accession would have to be approved in popular referenda even if it met all accession criteria. Europeans raised hurdles like the Cyprus issue just to discourage Turkey from pursuing membership. They weren't honest, they didn't act in good faith.

After a couple of days' worth of reading, now I see how identities and values matter for European people (like everyone else), and how they may feel like the enlargement process is imposing upon them something they shouldn't have to endure.

Researchers group people's and countries' "attitudes" towards the enlargement issue in three categories. The first one is a rational cost-benefit analysis, where people weigh potential socio-economic and security benefits against potential costs. The second one is identity considerations, where people look at whether Turkey's values are compatible with European values. The third one is "post-nationalism," which permits accession as long as Turkey internalizes the common values the EU is built upon, democracy and human rights being the foremost. In other words, Turkey should be allowed in if it fulfills all the accession criteria.

Member states' attitude towards enlargement is largely determined by the kind of future they envision for the EU, and we go back to the "enlargement" versus "deepening" dichotomy. Countries like the UK and Sweden argue for a loose union. They believe there is no reason to push for commitment where it is too costly. The EU is already quite large, and it unavoidably involves members with different foreign policy and economic interests. They would follow a rational, post-national attitude. Even if irreconcilable differences between value systems exist, they would claim that this is beside the point as long as each member state respects the common values of democracy and human rights.

The right wing in countries like France, Germany and Austria, on the other hand, believes that the EU can be a powerful player only as a stronger political union, and homogeneity is required for it to become one. Here are some voices from this camp, taken from Hakan Yilmaz's article Turkish identity on the road to the EU: basic elements of French and German oppositional discourses (Journal of Southern Europe and the Balkans, December 2007).

"A political union needs something like a we-feeling. This we-feeling is something more than a commitment to democracy and human rights. It has to do with a centuries-old shared history: Greek antiquity, Roman law, the conflict between the Pope and the German Kaiser in the Middle Ages, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, all these that give Europe its specific character." Friedbert Pflüger, CDU

"Christianity is understood not so much as a belief system or a theology but as a civilizational idea, political culture and lifestyle. As such, for example, it is believed that the cultural roots of some fundamental secular European values, such as the separation of spiritual and worldly affairs, the separation between the public and the private spheres, the idea of natural rights protecting the individual against the state, and, following Max Weber, the culture of capitalism, all have their roots in Europe's Christian heritage." Hakan Yilmaz, page 298.

"In principle, a non-Western and non-Christian country like Turkey can adopt Western values, without sharing Christianity and Western history. However, this westernization will take a very long time and it will not be completed in ten to fifteen years. A long time is necessary." Professor Heinrich August Winkler, Humboldt University

"By underestimating the concrete difficulties our societies have to properly integrate Muslims already living in our communities, [if we admit Turkey into the EU] we could in the end be increasing the risk of a 'clash of civilizations' within Europe, instead of avoiding it." Sylvie Goulard.

There is yet another question. Would Turkey's cultural and religious heritage, its history prevent it from internalizing democratic values in the timeframe envisioned for possible accession (10-15 years), tying the hands of even post-nationalist supporters of accession?

"Even the long-standing secular tradition of Muslim Turkey does not make it any more 'integrateable' to Europe, because it is generally believed that Turkish secularism is fake, it is artificial, it has been assimilated by a small Westernized elite, it has not submerged into the 'cultural genes' of the larger Turkish society, and it has been protected only by the force of arms." Hakan Yilmaz

I have to accept that these views are correct in this moment in history. However, they reflect a static view of history, they reflect conservatism. What I call for is not tolerance for values and practices that cannot be tolerated. What I call for is faith in that values and practices that should be reformed can be reformed - in due course. Because idealism is necessary to work for something better. Especially if you don't happen to be a European citizen.

Look!

You know, when you see something beautiful on the side of the road, when you discover something exciting, you want to poke the person next to you and make them see. Make them see. I knew more when I was sixteen. I forgot, I have to think through all the questions again. Each and every one of them. It's painful, I like knowing and giving answers. Making them see - that I know. Because you couldn't tell looking at me.

Once again I know. But this time I won't tell.

something I wrote in April 2006 to enter the Sander Thoenes prize of the Financial Times. I'm omitting last names because my sources didn't give me permission to be quoted here.

---

Women in the Middle East
STEPPING OUT OF THE LOOP

“After getting married, Galip discovered that there was a secret, mysterious and slippery territory in the life of the anonymous person that the statistics called a ‘housewife.’ This forbidden territory was the common topic and target of all the soap and detergent commercials, photo romances, the latest news translated from foreign magazines, radio shows and colorful newspaper sections, but it was also way beyond them and much more secretive.
…

During their three-year marriage, Rüya was the one who seemed discontent with having missed the joy and fun of an undefined life in an undefined place, not Galip,” wrote Turkish author Orhan Pamuk in his Black Book.


Middle Eastern women are equally well educated with their counterparts in other developing regions of the world, according to a recent World Bank report[1]. Given their education and productivity levels, one would expect that more of them would work. Then why do they defy expectations, what holds them back?

Understanding incentives might be key to understanding the phenomenon. When making the decision to enter the labor market, a Middle Eastern woman has to take more into consideration than her counterparts in other parts of the world.

“Decision to go to work will be driven by opportunity costs,” the professor tells to his Topics in the Economic Development of the Middle East[2] class at Georgetown University. “Maybe a woman has a higher reservation wage, one that is driven not only by her education, but also by [the] values of [the society.]”

The story is actually quite simple: Speaking in strictly economic terms, a woman will decide to look for a job, if her expected gains exceed her expected costs. Her gains are determined by her wage and the likelihood of her finding a job. She cannot expect tax and employment benefits, because these are limited to the “heads of the household,” who are usually men.

Of course, we can add the fulfillment of a fruitful career and social interactions into the equation, but Middle Eastern women might value these intangibles differently.

“In the US, there’s an expectation that everybody should live up to his potential,” says Kristen. “What the society expects of you makes a big difference.”

What the Middle Eastern societies expect of women is to fulfill their role in the patriarchal society as “home-makers” and “caregivers,” while men are the sole breadwinners. The media promotes these traditional roles.

“The husband’s responsibility to provide for the family confers rights and authority on him -reinforced through a host of laws, policies, and institutions- that he retains even if he does not or cannot provide fully for his family,” the World Bank report reads, “As a result, women become financially, legally, and socially dependent on men.”

Again, Middle Eastern women may view the patriarchal contract differently than westerners do. Melissa gives the example of a young woman she met when she was in Tunis. This woman saw the patriarchal contract as “team work, not dependency. It’s not dominance [of men over women], it’s support.”

Melissa’s friend thought the society allowed women to retain control over their families. “She’s 22 years old,” she says, describing her friend, “she’s working to get a PhD, she wants to get married and have children and be taken care of.”

In many countries in the region, a woman needs her husband’s permission to work and travel. When a woman decides to enter the labor force despite her husband’s disapproval, she runs the risk of divorce, losing her husband’s financial support and the custody of her children. Interaction of sexes in the workplace has also been a consideration for both women and their husbands.

The professor points out that the patriarchal family has been the most important social safety net for individuals who do not earn their own incomes. He says states can alter the incentive structure only by offering pensions, family assistance, and welfare nets to eliminate women’s vulnerability and dependence on men.

Not only does the patriarchal structure influence the labor supply, but it also shrinks the labor demand, by making women less desirable for the private sector. The oil boom of the 1970s and the subsequent bust in the 80s only served to strengthen this effect: During the boom, the real wages were high enough that women did not need to work. During the bust, women wanted to work, but there were not enough jobs for them, as the shrinking work opportunities were offered to men.

Due to affirmative action policies and generous maternity benefits, women are widely employed in the public sector. As the share of public sector employment shrinks in the economy, private sector will have to absorb more of the female labor supply.

“Education rates are on the rise but there are not enough job opportunities available to women,” says Shirin. The professor agrees, and asks: “Why should women jump into a labor market where unemployment rates are so high?”

Indeed, so many women in the region choose not to work, and instead, they enter into the patriarchal contract. In her recent study[3], Jennifer C. Olmsted examines what the contract means for women at later stages in life: “[A]ging parents generally live in extended family households, with one or more of their sons. Most women are economically supported first by their fathers, then by their husbands, and eventually by their sons.” In the lack of other safety nets, women who remain unmarried or childless become extremely vulnerable.

Once they are in the patriarchic system, women have incentives to maintain it, because they gain power over younger members of the family as they age. “They may have more powerful voices than younger men and women,” Olmsted writes. According to her study, Palestinian women advise their sons to marry less-educated girls, so they can exert more influence on their daughter-in-laws.

Because parents expect that their sons will be taking care of them once they get old, and their daughters will marry out, they have every incentive to invest in their sons’ education, and not in their daughters’. This further reduces women’s future chances of entering the labor market, and the patriarchic contract becomes self-reinforcing.

The incentive structure is built upon and strongly supported by a system of values. In these circumstances, women voluntarily choose not to work. There needs to be an exogenous factor that will open a crack in this loop by creating safety nets, and changing the laws and regulations that hold women back.

“Change will need to be led from the top and supported by the grassroots,” the World Bank report reads. “The two main agents for these changes will be women’s advocacy and the state.”

According to the World Bank report, low female participation in the work force holds back Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) countries’ economic performance. If female participation rates had been at predicted levels, the report goes, per capita GDP growth rates might have been 0.7 percent higher during the 1990s.

It seems improbable that large numbers of women will become more active in the public sphere on their own any time soon, largely due to the same factors explained above. But the state has an interest in providing options to women. If not for anything else, then for the sake of the whole region’s economic well being.

[1] Gender and Development in the Middle East and North Africa: Women and the Public Sphere, 34963, 2006.

[2] All quotes taken from the class meeting on April 4, 2006, unless otherwise indicated.
[3] Gender, Aging, and the Evolving Arab Patriarchal Contract, Jennifer C. Olmsted, 2005.

1. You came to me this morning
And you handled me like meat.
You´d have to live alone to know
How good that feels, how sweet.
My mirror twin, my next of kin,
I´d know you in my sleep.
And who but you would take me in
A thousand kisses deep?

2. I loved you when you opened
Like a lily to the heat.
I´m just another snowman
Standing in the rain and sleet,
Who loved you with his frozen love
His second-hand physique -
With all he is, and all he was
A thousand kisses deep.

3. All soaked in sex, and pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
We made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked
A thousand kisses deep.

4. I know you had to lie to me,
I know you had to cheat.
But the Means no longer guarantee
The Virtue in Deceit.
That truth is bent, that beauty spent,
That style is obsolete -
Ever since the Holy Spirit went
A thousand kisses deep.

5. (So what about this Inner Light
That´s boundless and unique?
I´m slouching through another night
A thousand kisses deep.)

6. I´m turning tricks;
I´m getting fixed,
I´m back on Boogie Street.
I tried to quit the business -
Hey, I´m lazy and I´m weak.
But sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go
A thousand kisses deep.

7. (And fragrant is the thought of you,
The file on you complete -
Except what we forgot to do
A thousand kisses deep.)

8. The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it´s done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it´s real
A thousand kisses deep.

9. (I jammed with Diz and Dante -
I did not have their sweep -
But once or twice, they let me play
A thousand kisses deep.)

10. And I´m still working with the wine,
Still dancing cheek to cheek.
The band is playing "Auld Lang Syne" -
The heart will not retreat.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep -
You ditch it all to stay alive
A thousand kisses deep.

11. And now you are the Angel Death
And now the Paraclete;
And now you are the Savior's Breath
And now the Belsen heap.
No turning from the threat of love,
No transcendental leap -
As witnessed here in time and blood
A thousand kisses deep.

September 21, 1998

Leonard Cohen

Continued from Cynicism and Naivete. And again - with gratitude to this post.

The break of innocence

This concert ticket, the theme of the sitcom that is my life for the past month, exploded in my hands. But it was all worth it. It was so beautiful. So beautiful. Beautifully written, beautifully arranged, beautifully played and beautifully sung. He actually sang Famous Blue Raincoat, and when he sang "and yes - thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes - I thought it was there for good - so I never tried" the whole audience sang with him. It was something that rang true, something sincere, to all those people. All his poems, if you open yourself and listen carefully, are beautiful.

When did "coolness" become cool? It grew out of the humanity's disillusionment and sorrow? After centuries of disappointment we finally built up our immune system and found the power in ourselves to not care? To forget? To hurt those who are naive and innocent, who haven't reached this wisdom yet? They have to learn too, right? This is the real world.

Let me tell you something. I will continue giving people the benefit of the doubt not because I don't know better, but because I choose to. They can feel free to prove me wrong or actually live up to their promise.

If you shield yourself so much from pain and disillusionment, you will end up missing out. You have to leave a crack open. So everything good and bad can seep in.

a little happiness

When nothing matters now and you're not sure if it ever did
When life is grey or black or whatever color it is
When the sound of his voice screaming in your ears
Melts with the television the noise disappears

You're letting him back in
To break you once again
You're crawling in your skin
You're forgiving him
You hold it in

Her mascara draws his picture on her face
And all these pictures that he's framed take up his space
These awkward elevator moments of happiness
Just keep her open to the cycles of viciousness

Letting him back in
To break you once again
You're crawling in your skin
You're forgiving him
You hold it in

Letting him back in
To break you once again
You're crawling in your skin
You're forgiving him
You hold it in
Holding on

For a little happiness
Holding on
For a little happiness

(Aimee Allen)

a theory about why values matter

Yesterday I met up with some friends to discuss things that we are all interested in. One of our friends talked about different value systems, and said that the thing that ties most people to a value system (and not another) is not rational choice, but habit and emotion. He said societies should have serious debates about "morality", what is right and what is wrong. I decided to think through this idea and its implications.

First of all, why is there a need to have a public discussion about moral issues? Because value systems do not stay contained within one individual's life or one clearly-defined group. The value system of a policy maker will bear on his policy choices and affect all groups in the society.

Secondly, what is a "value system"? My definiton of a value is "the best way of doing something or solving a problem" for an individual, and a value system is a network of (ideally) mutually consistent and enforcing values. At the core of all these values is one or more assumptions. The validity of these assumptions is often not tested (or by nature cannot be tested). However, they provide answers to big fundamental questions. The system, then, gives answers to all the smaller questions based on the big answer at the core.

I will give an example from my own value system first. Let's say the question is, "should I drink wine?" My core assumption is that my actions should not harm myself or anyone, because that's bad, useless and troublesome. Then the answer is a simple "yes, but in moderation!" Let's take a devout Muslim. When faced with this question, he will go back to his core assumption: That God is the creator of universe and Hz. Muhammed is His prophet, and the best way to live life is to follow the rules prescribed by the Kur'an. Drinking wine is a sin according to the Kur'an. Moreover, if this person has never seen their family or friends drink wine, he will view a sudden change of habit as betrayal to his heritage. If he breaks one rule, would he lose his anchor, would his life lose its consistence, coherence and meaning?

Now let's see how this person's value system would affect his policy making. He sees people drinking wine in restaurants and bars, and they seem a little too happy and annoying. They might go out and drive and commit indecencies. Even if he realizes that wine drinkers do not harm him directly, he might simply take upon himself to spread the good in the society. Then our policymaker would adopt policies that limit wine drinking.

This theory can be applied to other social issues such as religious rights, abortion, stem cell research, gay marriage and women's rights. More significantly, policymakers may impose their value systems on the youth through the education curriculum and the media. Debates over the teaching of "intelligent design" versus "evolutionary theory" in the US is a good example.

But the remit of value systems is not limited to social issues, and assumptions are not always religious (although they demonstrate "religious" qualities). Economic policy is influenced by its own value systems. For example, neoliberalism was the most popular value system until the most recent crisis. Its core assumption, that market forces will allocate resources more efficiently, and regulation should be minimal, was considered almost as a law of nature by its proponents. The latest crisis demonstrated that this assumption was not tested in all circumstances. Communism was its own value system, and it didn't stand the test of time.

Another example can be national security and freedoms. Civil servants in Turkey, for example, typically belong to one value system. The core assumption of this system is that "the unity of the Turkish territory and nation should be protected against divisive ethnic and religious forces at all cost". Now, the validity and effectiveness of this assumption is open to question, but because of it, national security takes precedence over individual freedoms.

Having blind faith in the truth of a value system may be comfortable, but what if your assumptions are wrong? What if there are better options out there? What if evolution makes more sense than intelligent design (or visa versa)? Wouldn't we be closing ourselves to other possibilities, turning a blind eye on lessons learned from experience and research, limiting our potential for growth?

What matters is what you learn after you know it all.

In some areas, a society of free-thinking individuals would converge to value systems whose truth stands the test of time. In other instances, it may decide that some issues are personal, and the society should have no bearing on an individual's choice. But we should be open to listening to each other and changing our minds, however difficult and disconcerting it is. This is the only way forward.

The Kurdish issue

I grew up with news of Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK) attacks in the South East and East Turkey. Soldiers, teachers, doctors (most of them sent to the South East from other parts of the country) would be killed. I wrote a while ago that as more people die for a cause, the more difficult it is to find a solution acceptable to both sides. (If it's not acceptable to both sides, it is not a solution anyway.) I have never travelled to those regions. I don't see how I can claim that they are part of my country when I'm not able to travel there out of fear.

Now, our military could keep on destroying PKK cells and kill terrorists and carry on with their air raids and even carry out another cross-border operation into northern Iraq. Our judges could start investigations against pro-Kurdish Democratic Society Party (DTP) deputies as much as they want. The Constitutional Court can shut down the party. Turks all over the world can start nationalist groups in the Facebook. With all their capabilities, they could not eliminate the PKK or the DTP in the past twenty-four years. You might say "it's foreign countries helping PKK and DTP!" It's not the Dutch or the Syrians fighting on behalf of PKK. They are recruiting Kurdish youth, and the local population obviously sympathizes with the PKK and DTP.

But their support is not blind. Back in 2005, Erdogan was hailed during a visit to Diyarbakir as the first Turkish prime minister to recognize the “Kurdish issue” and acknowledge the responsibility of the state in the problem. Although the reform momentum stalled considerably after the negotiations with the EU started in October 2005, the AKP took some steps to relax bans on Kurdish education and broadcasting. The party won many votes at the expense of the DTP in the general elections in July 2007, branding itself as the only party capable of reaching out to Kurdish communities.

However, support among the Kurds for the party started to wane as the government gave the military free rein in its operations into northern Iraq. Although the government unveiled a $ 18-billion investment programme in May to revive the Southeast Anatolia Project (GAP), which will involve the building of new dams, expansion of irrigation networks and loans for entrepreneurs, the local populace seems far from impressed.

Moreover, the AKP, which narrowly escaped closure by the Constitutional Court in July, has remained silent about the closure case facing the DTP. The DTP, meanwhile, has adopted a harsher rhetoric as it views its closure imminent, and tries to secure support for its successor party in its last remaining strongholds in the region, such as Diyarbakir, Batman and Tunceli in the local elections in March. The protests they organized during Erdogan's 21 October visit to Diyarbakir drew large crowds, many of them children, and many shop-owners closed their shops either in support of the cause or in fear of violence. Support for the PKK and the DTP has never been so visible since the 1990s.

The AKP seems to lack a genuine interest in improving the democratic rights of the Kurds, and merely follows a pragmatic approach: Trying to secure the support of the Kurdish communities while avoiding discontent among Turkish nationalists. By not seeking a genuine solution in good faith, it is actually playing into the hands of the PKK and DTP, who derive their power from the continuation of the conflict. By not talking to them, we are speaking their language.

Famous blue raincoat

it's four in the morning, the end of december
i'm writing you now just to see if you're better
new york is cold, but i like where i'm living
there's music on clinton street all through the evening.

i hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert
you're living for nothing now, i hope you're keeping some kind of record.

yes, and jane came by with a lock of your hair
she said that you gave it to her
that night that you planned to go clear
did you ever go clear?

ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
you'd been to the station to meet every train
and you came home without lili marlene

and you treated my woman to a flake of your life
and when she came back she was nobody's wife.

well i see you there with the rose in your teeth
one more thin gypsy thief
well i see jane's awake --

she sends her regards.

and what can i tell you my brother, my killer
what can i possibly say?
i guess that i miss you, i guess i forgive you
i'm glad you stood in my way.

if you ever come by here,
for jane or for me
your enemy is sleeping,
and his woman is free.

yes, and thanks,
for the trouble you took from her eyes
i thought it was there for good so i never tried.

and jane came by with a lock of your hair
she said that you gave it to her
that night that you planned to go clear

sincerely, l. cohen

sometimes, the beautiful things I discover (no matter what they are about, their beauty lies in their truth) makes me wonder what there is to come. there are so many beautiful things out there for me to discover. only if I'm brave enough.

I also wonder how I lived all those years without knowing them. how poor I was.

I guess I lived just like how I'm living now.

Burn after reading

I saw Coen brothers' new movie Burn After Reading over the weekend. It was really funny, but it left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, I felt really down on my way home. I read some reviews and saw that some critics agree with me.

Then I started wondering what makes us like a movie. And I decided it should either make us forget about the ordinary-ness of our lives. Or it should go ahead and bring us face to face with our misery, but at least give some hope for some meaning. The miserable character transforms and ends up a hero, or finds love, something like that. I, personally, don't want to see miserable people ending up miserable.


***
Bir de bu haftasonu çok uzun zamandır görmediğim bir arkadaşımı gördüm. Yakında gidiyormuş, burdan gitmek istiyormuş. Onu görmek, kısacık zamanda neden, nasıl kendini o kadar sevdirdiğini hatırlamamı sağladı. Bütün kalbimle dilerim ki gitmesin.

Global financial crisis and Turkey

When there is a global financial crisis going on, our small daily duties may seem even pettier than usual. This is what happened to me – digging up data and news reports about Turkey as usual, I had an urge to drop what I’m doing and understand what is really going on in the global economy.

Unfortunately (or luckily) not everyone’s job involves developing a good understanding of the dynamics of the global economy. Even academics or finance professionals do not have to consider the currents of the global economy or how their area of research or daily tasks fit into the macro picture. Even central bankers focus on their own country, but not on global imbalances. The trade-off seems to be between joining the machine by specialising in a small, manageable section (this is what the overwhelming majority of us do) or becoming more of a popular intellectual, who is watching the great currents without going into specific knowledge of technicalities.

More extensive media coverage and analysis about financial markets, especially during this crisis, makes academics and technocrats household names, and leaves people wondering how the crisis could affect their lives directly. People grow more curious about how this crisis came about, and what its resolution will take. The public seems to have renewed interest in the regulation of the economy, a phenomenon that is reversing the neoliberal populism trend. We can say that politics is re-coupling with economics. I will use this post to think through the situation myself, largely drawing upon a special report that appeared in the Economist recently.

It might be surprising to some, including myself, to see how defaults on subprime mortgages, spurred by the bust of a bubble in the housing market, could spread to the entire financial system. The answer lies in the structure of financial markets. Using the opportunities provided by technology, banks created complicated products to pass on loans to other investors, rather than keeping them on their books (securitisation). This way, a very small amount of capital can be lent and re-lent multiple times. The extensive trading of these products, such as the infamous credit-default swaps, spread the risk across the financial system. In the end, nobody knew whether their counterparty held these toxic products or how each product was valued, and this led to widespread panic. Banks stopped lending to each other, and the leveraging trend of the past few years was reversed: Now everybody wanted to de-leverage, not only refraining from extending new credit, but also trying to get their cash back as soon as possible. That’s what spurred governments to bail-out their troubled financial institutions with public money, as these institutions were not able to obtain funding from markets. The argument for government intervention goes that these institutions were systematically too important (too inter-linked to every other institution in the system) to fail.

With hindsight, critics claim that financial engineering and innovation got out of hand, leading banks to take on risks they could not manage, with dire consequences for the whole system. The ideological underpinning for a free market economy is de-regulation, which supposes that market forces will allocate resources most efficiently if left on their own. However, economic theory calls for regulation when part of the costs of an economic activity are not internalized by the company or country undertaking it. As the crisis has demonstrated, more effective regulation and oversight are needed in financial markets. What shape the new regulations will take, and which new national and international institutions will be responsible for implementing them, is unclear at the moment. To fight with over-leveraging, the Economist calls for an overhaul of regulatory and oversight institutions (especially in the US), increasing the banks’ capital ratios, and changing tax codes that favour debt over equity for companies and households.

But bankers and regulators are not the only ones to blame. The monetary policy of central banks, most notably the Federal Reserve, exacerbated the bubbles in the economy. Low short-term rates, for example, inflated the housing bubble by making adjustable-rate mortgages cheaper. Moreover, high savings of emerging markets like China and Russia, as well as the Gulf states (due to export revenues, thanks to currency management in the Chinese case and the surge of oil prices in Russia and the Gulf) flooded into the US and Europe, driving long-term interest rates down. Meanwhile, emerging markets, which pegged their currencies to the dollar, suffered from the Fed’s loose monetary policy, leading to overheating in their economies. Even countries with a floating exchange rate, such as Turkey, enjoyed significant capital inflows.

How will the crisis affect an emerging market like Turkey? Very shortly, the reversal of capital inflows will expose the structural weaknesses of our economy. We enjoyed tail winds until 2007, but now we are faced with strong head winds. The difficulty, however, does not stem from the banking sector. Our banking sector is relatively shielded thanks to regulatory reforms introduced following the 2000/2001 banking crisis, which established the independent Banking Regulatory and Supervision Agency (BDDK) and brought more stringent capital requirements and internal auditing standards for banks. However, foreigners hold a large share of the Turkish banking sector (around 40%), a channel through which the crisis could spread into Turkey.

The main problem for us is the large external financing needs emanating from the current account deficit and large external debt. Rollover of foreign debt will be more costly, and finding FDI and portfolio investments will be more difficult from now on. The Istanbul stock market (IMKB) was down by 10% last week, and 21 % last month alone. The lira is also depreciating rapidly against the dollar and the euro, and this coupled with global credit crunch leaves the corporate sector, which holds a lot of FX-denominated debt, and local banks, vulnerable.

The slowdown in the world economy will influence the size of our trade deficit. Our exports to the European Union, our main trading partner, have already slowed down considerably. This effect, however, will be offset by several factors. Domestic demand for consumption and industrial inputs will decline. Significantly, our imports will also cost less, thanks to the diminishing price of oil and other commodities. (By the way, the Economist thinks earlier surge in oil prices was more due to rising demand and government subsidies than speculation on commodity futures. Food prices rose due to biofuel production and export bans.)

The crisis will force everyone to take a good look at themselves, reflect on what went wrong and clean up their act. For Turkey, this will mean addressing the structural problems in the economy. If it leads to meaningful reforms geared towards reducing the administrative and tax burden on the private sector, increasing the domestic saving and investment ratios, and improving the efficiency and value-added in the economy, then we can really look back and remember the crisis as an opportunity. This would also mean sustainable growth and less unemployment, which lingered around 10% even as our economy was growing by 9.4%, 8.4% and 6.9% in 2004, 2005 and 2006 respectively.

The same goes for every country in the world. A crisis situation presents the opportunity to build a system that is more consistent and coherent, and hence more stable. We learn more about human nature and economics as time goes by, we are not nearly there yet. We have to do our best and go forward.

A new equilibrium

Have you ever wondered how your life would look like if a camera followed you around? All day? Showed all your facial expressions? (Even those you make looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror?) What you said and what you didn't? And you would have to watch it at the end of the day? I would like to add the absence of such an arrangement to the things that save us.

That said, without the social interaction I've been addicted to, I feel like a fish out of water. Unspoken words fill my mouth like fresh air. I can see that most of my so-called friends were in my life out of circumstance, and I just don't have the energy to keep them there (or compete with other priorities in their lives).

But, as all changes take some time to adjust to, I will adjust to this new lifestyle, too. Change my expectations, find a new equilibrium...

Random thoughts

What is a blog for, anyway? To be able to write stuff without thinking about it that much! I will use this opportunity, to end this wonderful week in a high note, to write in my blog as I please.
And talk about myself.

On the tube from Charing Cross to my place, I was thinking about the events of this uneventful week. And these little random abstract thoughts began shaping up in my head (clearing all the fog that seemed to block the tiny channels in my brain.) Now - as we all know, anger (resulting from disappointment) is a sharp, clear feeling. Like a crisp blue winter day. One thing it is not - it leaves no room for confusion and mushy clouds. We get angry usually when we are FINALLY faced with reality. What is important, is to keep your cool for a few minutes, and you will see that giving an angry response (to what you just found out) is nothing but hoping that what you just found out isn't actually true. Because we are afraid of reality (namely - that we are not as important as we wished/wanted to be), we cry like a baby until they hear us - and hopefully tell us that we are actually important and ask for forgiveness.

And the second point - sometimes we don't ask questions because we are afraid of learning the truth, only to be able to continue assuming. If you are curious about the answer of a question, go ahead and ask it.

And people must have a way to sense when you need them and disappear right at that moment!

And fuck it - maybe I'm not that important, after all.

I started to sound like Oprah (except for the sentence before this), and sorry if you already knew all these things (including the sentence before this). They should teach this kind of thing in school. I promise, this is my last loserish post. You know, I have waves of these. They come and go. What comes around goes around. Etcetera.

In the middle

Have you ever felt like you have departed from somewhere, but haven't arrived at your destination? And you don't even know where your destination will be? And anything you can imagine seems either dull or unlikely?

I'm reading Orhan Pamuk's Masumiyet Müzesi and watching Gossip Girl all the time, any time I'm not working, that is. I can focus on those better than I can focus on work, that's for sure. When I'm reading the book, when it describes the weather or children playing in the backyard of a building I can feel it. My parents were here last week, and I felt somehow departed from them. I felt the obligation to be ok on my own. And I haven't seen most of my extended family in six months or more. I miss the old days. I miss going to lunapark in Akçay and buying tulumba halkası or lokma. I miss the old apartment building in Göztepe. I miss even Halilrıfatpaşa. I miss going to Bandırma. I considered going back, soon, for sure, but if I went back, I would be scared that it's the last time. I would feel like a tourist. I changed, everything changed, I grew up.

I don't know, I just feel like a letter en route, and it feels a bit lonely among all these other strange letters in a pile. I hope I'll arrive at my destination soon.

The following piece was Perihan Mağden's column in yesterday's Radikal. I loved it so much it actually brought tears to my eyes.

Zaman izafi midir?

Fizik dersinde berbattım. En arkada oturup başka şeylerle vakti ‘öldürmeye’ çalışırdım. Öyle zor geçerdi ki fizik dersinde zaman. Açıp açık açık kitabını da okuyamazsın. Yani dersi dinler havasını yaratarak, ne yapılabilirse, öyle geçirmeye çabalamak zamanı... Şimdi bile aşırı sıkıntıyla geçirdiğim zamanları ‘fizik dersi gibi’ diye tasvir ederim.

Oysa gerçekten, samimi olarak, fizikten anlayabilen bir kafam olsun isterdim. O formüller, akselerasyon mesela: Hem gerçekte olagelen şeyler, hem de onca soyutlanarak bir formül halinde -yani bir hap gibi- sana sunuluyorlar. Taş düşüyor işte, işte eğim var, taşın hızı var, hepsini simgeleyen bir işaret var. Sen de yapacaksın hesabını, ama ne önemi var? Gerçi böyle felsefi nedenlerle direnmiyordum fiziğe. İşin içinden çıkamıyordum. Gerçek anlamda kafam basmıyordu işte. Einstein’ın o muhteşem, enerji eşittir formülü. Sonra nasıl Freud sayesinde bilinçaltı ve bilinçdışı olduğunu biliyorsak, Einstein sayesinde zamanın izafi olduğunu biliyoruz.

Zamanın izafi olduğu zamanlar vardı. Kapı çalınırdı. Bir arkadaş sana gelirdi. Sonra bir 24, 36 saat kayıp giderdi. Muhtelif yerlerde yenilir, sokaklarda yürünür, videoda filmler izlenir ve kimseye hiçbir şeyin hesabı verilmezdi. Öle bir durum yoktu. Hesap vermeyi gerektiren bir durum yani. Bir arkadaşın arka odasına kapanılıp üç gün hiç çıkmadan -tabii yemek, içmek ve tuvalet dışında- Shibumi okunabilirdi, diyelim. O zamanlar, yani gençken, zaman izafiydi.

Zaman, içine girilip gönlünce yüzülen bir okyanustu. Rüya görmeye vakit vardı örneğin. Bol bol rüya görülür, onlar hatırlanır, anlatılırdı. Oysa dilediğinizce uyuma hakkı elinizden alındığında rüya da göremez, daha doğrusu gördüğünüz rüyaları hatırlayamazsınız. Zaman, bir hapishane çizelgesine dönüşür. Her saat halletmeniz gereken kalemler, bunlardan kaytarmaya cüret edecekseniz, kendi kendinize vermeniz gereken hesaplar vardır: Dolusunuzdur. Da neyle? Bir sürü hamaliye saçmalıkla. Her gün, listelerle sona erer. Her gün, atlamanız gereken bir sürü engelle donanmış bir koşudur. Siz de iyi eğitilmiş ve yarışmak dışında hiçbir şeye hakkı olmadığını iliklerine kadar hisseden bir yarış atı.

Mekanik bir at üstelik. Her türlü haz duygusundan tasarlanırken muaf tutulmuş. Bazen yangından mal kaçırır gibi, biraz zaman araklamaya kalkarsınız işten güçten. Ne acıklı bir çaba! Bunu faiziyle ödemeniz gerektiğini bilmek, o soluk soluğalık ‘araklanan’ zamanı baştan lekeler. Mükemmel ve el değmemiş bir zaman dilimi, sizin için artık mümkün değildir.

Penang’ta yine üç gün bir ‘otelin’ yatakhanesinde yalnızca aşağıdaki lokantaya inmelerinizle bölünen Dostoyevski okuduğunuz günleri hatırlarsınız. Nerdeyse bir sıla hasretiyle. Bir sürgün duygusuyla. Bir daha böyle günlerin, kapınıza umulmadık bir hediye gibi bırakılmayacağını eşekler gibi bilerek. Eşekler gibi mahzun ve derisi kalın. Gerçek ve derin, ipin ucu koyverilmiş, bedbahtlıklara bile artık zamanınız yoktur. Hiç yoktur.

Karı hissedemezsiniz. Yağmuru. Rüzgârı. Bir nevi izolasyon malzemesiyle tecrit edilmiştir ruhunuz ve bedeniniz. Doğayla ilişkiniz, hayatın doğallığıyla ilişkiniz kopmuş gitmiştir. Zavallı bir memursunuzdur. Artık herkes, bu hayatların her sabah kartını deldirmesi gereken, bitap memurlarıdır. Tüm arkadaşlarınız da sizin gibi enselenmişlerdir. Tesisat işleri, elektrik makbuzu, perdelerin yıkanması, yapılması gereken telefon konuşmaları, ödenmesi gereken borçlardan ibaretsinizdir.

Bazen arkadaşınızla karşılıklı şikâyet ve ağlaşmayla bir yarım saat geçirirsiniz. Yan yana oturup ‘Yüzbaşı Volkan’, ‘Dr. No’ okuduğunuz günlerin zavallı siluetleri olarak. Kavga bile edemezsiniz artık. Şiddetli kavgalar ve ağlamalar çoook gerilerdedir. Vızırdarsınız, cızırdarsınız, laf sokuşturursunuz. Siz artık siz değilsinizdir. Yeni bir insan da değilsinizdir. Zaruretleri yerine getirmekle mükellef bir kılıf. İçiniz boştur. Eskiden kalbin durduğu yerde kırık, imitasyon bir şeyler durur. ‘Şeyler’dir onlar. Gerçek hiçbir şey yoktur artık zira. Olamaz da.

Since the financial markets started recovering already (not by themselves, of course, only when provided by the right incentives), I decided to go back to what I wanted to write about in the first place.

My perfectly flawed country

The story between our prime minister Erdoğan and media tycoon Aydın Doğan has several veins.

Chapter 1 - Government tainted by corruption scandal
A Germany-based Turkish charity (Deniz Feneri) collects money from devout Muslim Turks in Germany, only to send it to affiliated Turkish businesses, such as Kanal 7, a pro-government TV channel. German investigators claim that Turkish authorities applied political pressure for the release of those detained in Germany, and the prime minister's office received some funds from the charity to help tsunami victims. Meanwhile, one of the guys who worked as a "courier" between Germany and Turkey is appointed as the chairman of the Radio Television Supreme Council (RTUK).

Chapter 2 - Freedom of media?
The coverage of the scandal features prominently in Doğan newspapers, which have been critical of the government for a while. In a furious (and public) address at a party meeting, Erdoğan claims that Doğan is seeking revenge because the government didn't agree to the favours he requested for his other businesses. These include the changing of a development license for the land where the Hilton Hotel stands in Istanbul, and an overland broadcasting license for CNN Turk from RTUK. More allegations appear on pro-government newspapers about allegedly illegal practices of Doğan Group. Doğan Group shares fall in the stock market.

Chapter 3 - Political risk: Independence and impartiality of regulatory agencies
Doğan responds that he has not requested anything illegal, he is just seeking his legal rights as a citizen and business man (which is a fair point, I must say.) He goes on to claim that the Energy Markets Regulatory Agency (EPDK) has been denying his oil distribution business Petrol Ofisi a license for the construction of an oil refinery in Ceyhan. He says that Erdoğan told him Çalık Holding would remain the sole license-holder in the port city. Çalık is also building the oil pipeline from Ünye to Ceyhan in a consortium with Italian Eni.

EPDK claims the site proposed by Petrol Ofisi for the refinery belongs to another company, which wants to build a power utility on the same site.

Chapter 4 - Freedom of media?
Çalık Holding, run by Erdoğan's son-in-law, was the sole bidder for our second largest media group, Sabah-ATV. State banks provided financing for the acquisition, and a Qatari investment fund chipped in by buying a 25% stake (the largest interest a foreign entity can hold in a Turkish media company). There were rumors that this limitation (if nothing else!) deterred other bidders, including foreign private equity groups and media companies, from bidding for Sabah-ATV. The government is now planning to lift this rule to comply with EU legislation. Then Çalık could sell Sabah-ATV to one of the foreign suitors for a decent profit.

***
I admire the intricacy of the story, and I think we can recognize several themes here. First of all, the story casts doubt over the independence and impartiality of regulatory agencies, municipalities and state banks. These institutions are clearly open to political influence. The destiny of a business is determined by its relationship to power circles, not its economic efficiency or integrity.

Once we identify this structural flaw as the root problem, it is easy to see why media groups might want to leverage their influence over public opinion to receive favours from the government, or how the government might be able to use these licenses as a stick to punish a media group for its unfavourable coverage. People do things when they are able to.

This is a high price to pay. Journalists play a very important role in the healthy functioning of a democracy. Their job is to raise awareness by providing correct, comprehensive and balanced information and analysis. People can make sound choices and hold decision makers accountable only when they have sufficient information. The independence and freedom of media groups is therefore very important, and media is not just an ordinary economic sector. However, in practical terms, I don't know how we could oblige media tycoons to shed their other business interests in countries where we cannot disentangle politics from business. This would be a second-best solution aimed at curing the symptom of the problem, not the problem itself.

Finally - a word on journalism ethics. Some of the journalists and columnists in Turkey suck. My question is, do these journalists genuinely believe in what they write, or have they lost all respect for themselves, their audience and their job - so that they don't care anymore? Are they aware that they suck?

A costly experiment

I am fascinated by what's happening to Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch and AIG. It's like the Titanic sinking. It's like a beautiful facade collapsing because its basis is rotten. It's people taking risks without understanding the fundamentals of the products they were buying into. A machine that should be working smoothly because it is all based on logic and maths - but then, maybe not, because at the end of the day, it was people calling the shots, people looking over important details. Now it is technocrats who have to make really tough choices to minimize the costs. This is like an experiment with real people and real consequances.

I will write more about it soon.

Painting book

I've been thinking about how we give people and events meaning - and professionalism. Yesterday this image came to me - the image of a painting book. I figured we turn a new page every single day. People, events, information appear before us. Then we start painting them according to their importance to us, and some of them don't even catch our eye.

Some people or events make consecutive appearances, they happen or we let them (or make them) happen, and then we can't look over them anymore, even if we did once.

What we considered important once and painted bright red, sometimes turns out inconsequential and disappears completely from our book. We don't even know what color we'd paint them if they were to make an appearance again.

Sometimes, at work, I have to judge something's importance by my colleagues' reactions to it. Sometimes they react very strongly to something I wouldn't consider important, and sometimes they don't seem to care enough about a seemingly important thing. Because they are more experienced and I assume they know better, their reactions affect my views, as well. I find myself talking passionately about small things, and become indifferent to events I would find important in another setting. Market's priorities started to become my own.

Professionalism, then, is to become devoid of emotion? Reactions are censored and over time, feelings are just not so strong anymore. This may be good when it comes to anger, envy, greed, desire or dislike, it sets minimum standards for the quality of your work and conduct.

But it may not be so good when you take that minimum standard literally and just don't feel so passionately about the subject matter of your work, your audience, or your ability to make a difference. Then you become a boring civil servant who treats everyone equally poorly, and start painting everything the same color - gray.

Fear is irrational

I looked at a blue blouse at an Indian (Pakistani? - let's say South Asian to be safe) shop on Wisconsin Avenue once. I told the shopowner I would think about it and come back. He said, "nobody comes back." I went back just to prove him wrong, restore his faith in humanity. The blouse turned out really bad, dying my underarms dark blue.

To be able to buy this reading lamp, I had to go to the Barclays ATM by Spitalfields. We negotiated the price and everything with the young guy selling the lamp, then I took off. On my way to the ATM, I wondered whether he was worried that I wouldn't go back. But then I decided he shouldn't be, because I liked the lamp enough to go back. (The energy-saving bulb he gave me doesn't work, I'd like to add with deep annoyance.)

I went all the way to Stoke Newington for this artist's work.

People go, come back. If they like you enough... Fear is irrational, unnecessary.

How to become a Bobo

I moved into a studio in Marylebone "village". I went to the Farmer's Market on Sunday, and all you could hear was a hushed hum, you could almost see the blue blood running behind serious, charismatic faces picking vegetables and fruits. My mom says the people in this area "don't have battered faces." Their every action, every expression seems measured yet smooth - just right, how it should be. I felt nervous and clumsy. All new reference points - the bar is higher now. My parents hope I'll come out of this more sophisticated.

I passed by the Ginger Pig and La Fromagarie, all anxious as I am when I go to Bebek or Nişantaşı -a little out of place. I will stop by later when I'm not by myself.

Knowing myself for this long, I don't think I have a sophisticated bone in me. I will sound fatalistic, but some people are just born with it. Their faces, hair, clothes, they are intelligent, smooth, serious. They are not flashy or overly confident or annoying. They are respectable. They carry everything they own and are with subdued entitlement, and live up to the life they are born into. I, on the other hand, am clumsy, anxious, worried and late. My face shines and I sweat. I'm not smooth, because I think too much and I worry.

After a trip to Waitrose, I decided to venture into the East End. When I lived there I hardly valued or appreciated it enough, but I missed it and fell in love with it when I moved away. First the stalls of Spitalfields, then onto Commercial Street, the Smudge Gallery with commercial graffiti, vintage shops, and finally Brick Lane. I walked into the Up Market in the old Truman Brewery, people sitting on the threshold with greasy Asian food. First food stalls, then I bought a necklace made from "recycled materials", then a silver ring, then I ran into this artist's stall. I liked his delicate work. I got his card, and moved on to get a reading lamp (more on that in the next post.)

I walked around some more with my reading lamp, stopped by and listened to a dirty but cheerful street band right around Vibe, ran into Gokhan from Athena (a Turkish ska band who performed at Bazaar Day once, back in the day), walked on this side street with expensive little Bobo shops, walked into a small art gallery and got a crispy bacon beigel (I think this was the high (low?) point of the day, depending how you look at it). I walked to the end of Brick Lane up to Bethnal Green. Then walked back to Liverpool Street from Shoreditch High Street. For my next move, I want a wooden-floored loft around there. It will be expensive despite the sketchy (not really), dirty (really), but spirited area. Just like a Bobo likes it.

I felt carefree and happy and myself. Excited about what could be lying ahead. Like I do when I walk from Galatasaray to Tunel and then to Galata.

On Monday, I considered getting Banksy's "feisty maid" for my vast empty wall, something I thought would remind me of the things I sweep under the rug. But on Tuesday, I decided to go find the artist in the Up Market. I e-mailed him and he responded promptly: He lived and worked in Stoke Newington. The Turkish area I've never been to.

I took Bus 73 from King's Cross, and passed through Islington. Islington seemed uglier and more run down then I thought, Stokey more cheerful and pretty - especially around Church Street. (High Street is more "rough" around the edges, as Pierre's London for Londoners book observes.) I found his flat/studio on a residential street, his flatmate (looked like he jumped out of Notting Hill with his white undershirt) got the door. The building was like a communal tower with rooms lined along a staircase. One room - storage for all his work, prints on canvases stretched over rectangular wooden blocks, the other an airy bedroom with the blue paintings he's working on. One piece of the three-piece print I got is cracked, apparently he dropped it off the window. Like the stats book that fell off the Healy Building once. He will replace it when I visit him in the Up Market not this Sunday - but next Sunday.

I got my prints, took the bus passing through Kingsland and Dalston and Shoreditch High and Liverpool Street. I saw what's beyond Shoreditch High for the first time.

I find it ironic how my tidy and clean flat has these prints from this artist's studio in Stoke Newington, how it has this reading lamp from the Up Market.

Does this little deliberate civilized adventure qualify me as a Bobo?

Under rug swept

Yesterday I was thinking about the things I don't like talking about, writing about, thinking about. Things I pretend do not exist, things I pretend are of no consequance (as long as nobody notices them). Things that make me feel uncomfortable or guilty or awkward or worthless. Things that would make the blood and meat of any good piece of writing - any good depiction of reality - I avoid. Money, sex, injustice, sickness, senselessness, envy, greed, fear, unfulfilled dreams, failure, deterioration, death. Justification and entitlement.

Then in the Smudge Gallery at Spitalfields, I ran into a reproduction of graffiti artist Banksy's "Sweeping it Under the Carpet."

Then I realized, not talking about something doesn't make it go away, disappear. Things you don't talk about make what you talk about less real, what you write about less deep. What is hidden robs what is displayed of part of its truth. Sterile and shallow. In the end, nobody gives you a prize for being that spotless.

People discount blogging as "public confession." There are things in our lives, however, that we can't even confess to ourselves. We just overlook them completely, we don't talk about them even in our heads. Self-censorship prevents one from capturing and depicting reality, one is then left with abstraction -bare bones- and other people's stories.

However disconcerting it is, facing reality with all its details and facets, inquiring beyond what I think I already know is the only way to something real.

A room of my own

I'm learning recently (from my parents) that the most practical thing might not be the best thing, the right thing to do. (In fact, the best things are seldom practical.) Living on my own might be the best thing to do for me now, although it is a bit scary and a more practical solution could be found. But maybe that would just make me put off what I should be doing. Spare time, as scary as it is, might give birth to something valuable.

I'm sitting in my temporary flat next to the railways. Trains pass by in all directions, making electric blue arcs, shaking the building from its foundations. Railways stand on archs, archs made of dirty gray tiles. These tiles cover the buildings, black frames hold windows. This place is like a fishermen's town. I am close to water. And I hope to be anchored soon.

Or maybe I am already anchored. As long as I write.

People change?

The purpose of this post is not to make a judgement on whether Turkey's Constitutional Court should have shut down Turkey's ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) on July 30. I still don't have an opinion on that. I would just hope Turkish people could produce a political movement which does not derive its power from religion (or the lack of, for that matter), but simply its competence in policy making and commitment to pluralism. And if I don't like any of the two sides, I don't have to take sides. Taking sides when both sides are wrong does injustice to the truth, to something better. I don't want to take sides in this struggle. I want out, I want a better, third option.

The purpose of this article is simply to understand why the staunch secularist judges let the AKP survive this. A favorable decision for the AKP was not expected given the judges' track record and the balance of power within the court.

A constructivist would claim that the judges changed their minds about the pay-offs associated with each option. So the calls for a "compromise solution" worked. The judges either perceived the potential costs of shutting down the AKP as higher than they did before, or the costs of letting it off the hook lower. In other words, the judges were either afraid of the consequences of banning a ruling party, i.e. political instability and associated economic costs. Or they realized that AKP is not as dangerous to the secular system as its predecessors, Welfare Party and Virtue Party.

A rationalist, on the other hand, would not expect this outcome, unless something deterred the judges from banning the party by altering their pay-offs. A rationalist would argue that our judges, as far as we know them, would have viewed AKP's long-term threat to the secular state as outweighing any short-term turbulance their verdict could create. Besides, their priority would have been to protect the Turkish constitution, (rather than suggesting that political parties would do well amending it!) Secondly, our judges would have perceived AKP as a credible threat, since it holds the power unprecedented by its predecessors. In short, a rationalist would dismiss the constructivist argument as wishful thinking.

Unless something changed the equation. Something that dawned on the analysts of international banks days before the actual ruling was out.

Whatever the reason of the judges' decision was, this decision signals a shift in conventional sense and expectations. Now we need to make our predictions based on a new formula, since what we took as given turned out to be variable. Maybe this is an all-out power struggle, and we cannot count on precedents anymore.

License to live

I need one. To understand the real consequances of the things I do, how everything I do and say will have consequences for people, how people won't bare with me like my family. Because they don't have to, if they see no point. And maybe I'm the one who's losing out because of that.

People shouldn't have to suffer for taking my word, they shouldn't suffer for counting on me.

I need to grow up.

Standards

sometimes it becomes so hard to live by the standards we set for ourselves. to live up to, to live by that moral code. to be that consistent all the time, to fit in that straitjacket we ourselves have created. trying to be perfect, looking for perfection in others. and staying lonely.

because they are not perfect. and we are not perfect. so we can't even stand our own company. we can't even stand behind ourselves.

don't try to fit me in your straitjacket. and I won't try to fit you in mine. and don't try to fit yourself in your straitjacket.

because it clearly doesn't fit.

we need larger space, where more is acceptable.

Procrastination

I was sitting in a tube station the other day, and looking around me, I got the feeling that everybody was putting off something. They were procrastinating, maybe knowing what they should be doing, but not doing it. Everything they were doing, was not to think about, to forget about what they should be doing.

London seemed like a huge entertainment park (not even that entertaining), but moving so fast, so that nobody has a chance to stop and think what it is they are really doing, and what they should be doing. Just trying to catch up with everything else happening around them. Barely catching up, keeping themselves occupied. An occupation in itself.

"Some people feel like they don't deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps in the past." Into the Wild, 2007

Being an only child

After years of having all the love and pampering all to yourself, one day, quite suddenly, you wake up and realise that you have some responsibilities that all those years were supposed to prepare you for. Although nobody told you, you were fed and loved and looked after for this moment. It's like taking a huge loan without knowing it was a loan, and then having to pay it back.

You have to keep your act together. You have to be strong. You have to be happy, because you have no reason not to be. Which in itself, I'm telling you, is a big responsibility. Having to be happy, having to end up happy.

I know how spoilt I sound, I'm sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed with noone to help.

In my quest to build my self-standing, sustainable life. And be happy.

Somebody else's problem

My boss, apparently, had a library at the back of the office. I caught a glimpse of the books before, it was all cute and respectable, but today I got to carry them. Books, many of them, and folders - folders fulfilling their duty to their utmost limit. (I think the work of his last eighteen years or so. So years have weight.) Since my boss is on vacation, the lady who is responsible for our office expansion designated me as his next-of-kin. And the books, apparently, had to be carried now as the space downstairs would better be used now as they were paying for it now. (Although the workstations that will take the place of my boss's library won't arrive until August.)

And as I made probably 20 trips up and down the staircase (which is literally in the middle of the office) with my arms full of books and folders, my colleagues (most of them men) just carried on with their work. They were wearing their "somebody else's problem" shield. The only people who were sympathetic were the movers.

This happens on the train. People don't move their shit from the empty seats unless and until you ask them.

Now, the stupid thing about me is that I will move my shit away when I see someone walking up and down the aisle. I will propose to help if I see a coworker carrying stuff. Maybe I wear my somebody else's problem shield sometimes, too, in which case I wouldn't even realise that I'm doing so, but most of the time I see the problem and take it upon myself. And I don't ask people to do stuff for me unless I really have to. I just don't.

Then I get angry.

Out of nowhere

I finally saw Sex and the City. It was fun, very shallow, with a few slightly "deeper" moments. At times I felt like I was watching a TV movie, a soap opera. Mr. Big's plastic face, his very childish freak-out when Miranda tells him he and Carrie are crazy to get married, Samantha's stalking of the man-next-door, prompting her to leave her first 'love,' Carrie deciding to make her wedding bigger when she decides to wear a bigger dress, the assistant girl going crazy when Carrie gives her a real Louis Vuitton... It's OK when it's on TV, it's not OK on the movie screen. All of it seemed like a lot of hot air, a colorful inflated balloon. The only character I could relate to was Charlotte, who was afraid of losing the blessings she had when her friends, who were all good people, were unhappy.

Then my friend pointed out something, which I think explained all this shallowness. None of these people in the movie had families. We saw no declining parents, no less glamourous siblings, cousins, aunts or uncles. Even in the TV series, the only parent we saw was Steve's mother. (Steve, by the way, is the only normal, real person in the whole show.) These people seem like they have nothing to worry about but their relationships! Nothing holds them back, makes them question their way of life, lose their balance. They have a light and two-dimensional existence. There is no past, only now, only future. Only going forward. Without thinking about, feeling for much else but themselves. This makes me a little motion-sick.

Irreconcilable differences..?

As I'm completely uninspired to do anything else, I might as well write a few words...

I'm reading Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie, partly because of the Indian people I know... There's an air of humility and depth around (most) Indian people, even the most intelligent (maybe because they are so intelligent), something I find endearing and easy to relate to.

But the book itself is not our topic now, I'm sure I'll write about it later. An Indian friend of mine opened a random page the other day, and started picking out random names and explaining them: "Filmfare is the equivalent of People magazine, Polly Umrigar is a very attractive actress and so and so many people live in Kerala of which so and so many live under $2 a day..."

My other friend, who has read the book himself, said that we foreigners can make out things as we read along. I wasn't that optimistic, remembering the times I wondered how a foreigner could appreciate an Orhan Pamuk book fully.

At least we don't know what we are missing.

The next day, we went to a karaoke place with my Indian friend and his friends. Karaoke (an experience like no other - hearing your own horrible trembling singing voice, it's like seeing yourself naked from outside) deserves its own post, which will come soon. At one point they started talking about social networking events that are exclusive to South Asians. I asked whether they would date non-Indians. One of them said issues arise when they do. The other one questioned the rationale behind that, pointing out that Sikh men can be annoying, and everyone else can be quite nice.

There are some truths that are common to everyone. That's what makes a good book a good book - universally. That's what will make me like Midnight's Children, and an Indian like Orhan Pamuk. Because deep down, we are similar.

But we are also different, and the importance of this difference is hard to rationalise. That feeling of recognition when you hear music, when you see a gesture, when you go to a place, the landscape, when someone talks about something you both know, even a TV show, a celebrity, a politician. An inside joke. Those names. Specifics.

These differences enrich our lives, and we try to hang on to them. Smells, sounds, tastes, the sunlight and the colors, there is only one home. It's irrational. Like love. Belonging can only be justified by differences.

But then, I have lived in a few places, and I miss them, too. With time and knowledge one can make a new home...

Would we be missing anything?