My brother e-mailed me as soon as he heard about the suicide
bomb attack on Istiklal Caddesi to ask if I was okay. I wrote back that I was
safe and sound and that I had spent the weekend in Tarsus, close to the Syrian
border. How ironic that I felt safer when I was close to the Syrian border. His
reply was swift: “Stay away from the Syrian border!”
I need to travel more locally, within Turkish borders, so I
can fully experience all of Turkey. Gaziantep is on my list, mainly for its
baklava, but based on an article in The New Yorker, I’ve decided not to risk my
life for baklava, no matter how good it is.
Tarsus is a peaceful, slow-paced town, fragrant with flowers
and flooded with biblical history. I made new friends at a teachers’ conference.
We ate warm hummus and cezerye, which is the specialty dessert of that
particular region.
News of terrorism has become frequent. Even without the occasional
advance warnings, the attacks are easy to predict just because they are sadly
inevitable. I feel uneasy about the future and wonder where the next attack might
be. As that one overplayed Band of Horses song goes, “At every occasion, I’ll
be ready for the funeral.” Just like the rampant massacres in America, this is
too tragic an occurrence to become commonplace.
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| Walking down a street in Tarsus |
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