Admittedly, there is not an abundance of conclusive scientific research to prove every detail. At the same time, personal observations and experiences of millions of people and the scientific data that does exist cannot be ignored.

Humans, just like the Earth and animals, have a magnetic field which surrounds us.  The existing scientific studies show that there is a direct connection between the Sun’s solar storms and human biological effect. In this sense, the solar activity that creates the weather is parallel to the charged particles from the Sun affecting human behavior. Both involve the magnetic field and they are equally powerful.

Earth’s magnetic field does more than science has been able to catch up to.

One of those studies that did find a strong correlation between the solar activity and shift in human behavior is by NewScientist. According to NewScientist:

Many animals can sense the Earth’s magnetic field, so why not people, asks Oleg Shumilov of the Institute of North Industrial Ecology Problems in Russia. Shumilov looked at activity in the Earth’s geomagnetic field from 1948 to 1997 and found that it grouped into three seasonal peaks every year: one from March to May, another in July and the last in October. Surprisingly, he also found that the geomagnetism peaks matched up with peaks in the number of mood disorders i.e. depression, anxiety, bi-polar (mood swings) and even suicides in the northern Russian city of Kirovsk over the same period.

The most plausible explanation for the association between geomagnetic activity and depression and suicide is that geomagnetic storms can desynchronize circadian rhythms and melatonin production,” The circadian regulatory system depends upon repeated environmental cues to internal clocks. Magnetic fields may be one of these environmental cues.

In short, earth’s magnetic field and its shifts create many external changes. Remembering that we as humans also have magnetic fields directly related to earth and its magnetic field, it is not unreasonable to conclude that the solar flares affecting our earth also affect us.

As another evidence, a formula was created, in a book titled Solar Rain – The Earth Changes Have Begun, to prove such correlation:

Equation: Sunspots => (charged particles) Solar Flares => Magnetic Field Shift => Shifting Ocean and Jet Stream Currents => Extreme Weather and Human Disruption (mitch battros) as it refers to “human disruption”

I am not a scientist nor a fortune teller. That is why I cannot scientifically prove the affect of the solar flares on our moods or believe that December 2012 is, in fact, the end of the world, as we know it. At the same time, I cannot ignore the shared stories of millions of people claiming significant mood changes, behavior shifts and psychological impacts around the same time solar flares take place.

So, to those people who claim that the people complaining about mood changes, psychological disturbances and behavior shifts are simply finding excuses: just because there is not an abundance of conclusive scientific data yet, does that mean something does not exist? Or, does that simply show that as humans we are not up to speed understanding our own life and everything that affects it?

When the mood changes and behavior shifts are reported so much more extensively around the same time with the solar activities, should we put on our blinders or should we encourage more research, especially in an area in which there has not been a lot of inquiry… Our world is changing every day. So should the way we think and research…

Just a thought…

Read the Earlier Post on Do Solar Flares Affect Humans? 

Once, I heard a professor say “the best way to tell a good story is to detach yourself from it emotionally.” Well, in this case, I can never tell a good Mt. LeConte story for I am not ready to emotionally detach myself from the experience or the memories yet.

Introducing Mt. LeConte

Mt. LeConte, at elevation 6593′, is the third highest peak in the Great Smoky Mountains. There are several trails leading to the summit. At the very top, there is a surprise: a lodge that provides lodging and food to hikers. The only way to stay at the LeConte Lodge is to make reservations way in advance and hike up the mountain. Food and other supplies are brought to the lodge using llamas or a helicopter right before the season starts in late March.

So far, we have used the Alum Cave and Boulevard Trails to reach the summit. The Alum Cave Trail, about 5 miles, is perhaps the shortest distance to the top but it is very steep, with constant incline. That is why, recently, the Boulevard Trail, about 8 miles long, has been our path to the peak.

January Hike up Mt. LeConte

Our last hike up Mt. LeConte was in January, 2012. The trip started with a phone call to the National Park Services in Tennessee to receive a permit for backcountry hiking. The permit is free but required. A space can be reserved at the Mt. LeConte shelter by talking to a volunteer on the phone as well.

On the Way to LeConte

After packing our backpacks, the drive to Tennessee is always a combination of pleasure and impatience, and one can almost always find stories, suggestions and new experiences on the way. Each trip to Mt. LeConte brings new friends to my life, even if it is for a brief meeting. For example, during my last trip, I spoke with an attorney from Eastern Kentucky who, based on my love of hiking and the obsession with Mt. LeConte, suggested that I read the books A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson and Tales from the Country Law Office by Harry Caudill. I look forward to that literary pleasure.

The drive to Tennessee itself  often brings a reflection on today’s politics, economy and people around us as well. The last time we drove, I noticed that the gas stations had new signs: “Now Accepting EBT.” I am not even going to comment any further on that one, but we may all agree that it is a mirror image of today’s political and economic environment.

Boulevard Trail and the Trail Culture

Once you are on the trail, the journey begins. It is not, however, just a journey of trees and endless paths towards the summit. It is a different type of magic each day, each season, each time…

The physical trail is very pleasant with big chunks of rock, running or seeping water, and the surprising colors reflecting the weather conditions of the season. There is also a trail culture. Almost everyone hiking on the trail is your friend who is looking forward to meeting you, telling his story, or waiting to hear yours. We’ve met people from all walks of life and from all types of geographical and cultural backgrounds. Last time, it was a hiker from Minnesota: young at heart, older in the knees, by his own definition. On that mild January day, he was enjoying the sunshine and warm temperature, especially considering that it was 20 degrees below in his hometown in Minnesota. He told us about his family, gave out so many little hints that he is probably a stout Republican, and that he loves Tennessee a lot. All of this was clear within 10 minutes into the conversation. Four complete strangers on the trail, and there we were already on our way to “knowing each other.” He was in Tennessee for a week and so excited that he would get to hike every day, go horseback riding in the evenings and not have to go back to Minnesota for a little while.

There is that feeling of sharing something you love with the other hikers on the trail. There is already so much in common with each adventurer who embraces the weather, the incline, and the dangers; and, seeks the same solidarity, beauty and solitude, at the very least.

The expectations and strength of the hikers are not the only thing common on the trail, however. The trail culture also encompasses respect for the nature and the others who are also there to enjoy it. It is not uncommon, for example, to see hiking gear hanging from the tree branches on the trail. Hats, gloves, hiking pole caps, scarves, … When someone drops a piece of gear, the next hiker picks it up and hangs it from a tree branch visible to the hikers on the trail for its owner to be able to find it on the way back. There seems to be that cycle of double trust: each hiker trusts the next one to place the lost item on a branch visible to the hikers instead of taking it with him/her, then the hiker who does that trusts the next one to respect that trust and leave the item alone. When the owner of the gear finds it on her way back, it is not only an item reclaimed but also a gear which has received the care and respect of all of its passersby. There is a lesson to be learned from the trail culture for us all.

I don’t care who says what about the 8-mile Boulevard Trail.  For me, an enjoyable, satiated, hydrated, yet still timely, hike up to the summit,  takes about 6 hours. That includes 2 brief stops, about 15 to 20 minutes each, for food and rest. Each season, even each day or hour, offers a different yet breath-taking scenery on the trail. You can be walking in the clouds, literally, in one moment and taking a mental picture of a clear view of the entire Great Smoky Mountains in another. A big landslide may leave you without a reliable trail to walk on in the rain or you could be adventure-hanging (yes, I just made up that word) from a strong tree root off a cliff on a sunny morning. In short, when you are on your way to Mt. LeConte, the journey on the trail is limited only by your imagination and is threatened only by the nature itself.

Up on Mt. LeConte

The Shelter and the LeConte Lodge are two comparatively “modern” choices of accommodations up top. But, they are also like a joke. Through all the challenges, dangers, fears, and triumphs on the way to the summit, it is so easy to get into the mindset that one is completely alone in the nature. That there is no civilization or any sign of potential human interaction on the mountain. Colors are bight, water is pure, and the mountain is surrounded by complete silence except for the voices of its own, like a roaring river down the valley, a chirping chickadee on the trail, or the scary wind pushing the clouds up. In a way, after 6 hours of hiking, all of that feels natural: one must feel secluded and alone on a mountain this high and this wild. But, then boom!

There is a shelter! …

… and then a lodge, offering a clean bed and good meal?

An instant dilemma between the joy of potential familiarity and the disappointment of not having the mountain exclusively one’s self or lacking the complete immersion into nature arrives uninvited.

On our last hike to LeConte, we had a pleasant friend welcome us as well. J.P. Krol is a winter caretaker at the LeConte Lodge. Not having heard from us since the beginning of the day, and knowing that we would be coming up from the Boulevard Trail, he had walked down towards us. The same dilemma about seeing a shelter or a lodge at the 6500′ is applicable to seeing another person there… But, J.P. is different! He “goes with” the mountain, lives with it, and kind of blends with it as well. He lives at the lodge for the entire winter, watching the Lodge and the mountain. Most of the time, he is alone. But, never lonely. He has so many friends: the bobcat he so adamantly follows, the cliff tops, sunsets, books, his radio, and his own thoughts. He writes his daily observations on the LeConte Lodge Blog and posts photos of the mountain every day. The Lodge is closed each year from November until late March. But, the wintercare taker is always there…

Yes, we have found a friend. At a very unlikely place and a very improbably time… Yet, our entire time together had one topic and one topic only, perhaps the only one that mattered to us: Mt. LeConte and all it has to offer, even at its worst time…

—

This is where the memories of the mountain interfere and make the written expression moot… Perhaps, the story of Mt. LeConte is MEANT to be incomplete. As they say, “Good things don’t end, unless they end badly.” Through those lenses, so long for now…

Enjoy the photos we took in January 2012.

[Show as slideshow]

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L-1 and H-1B are employment-based, non-immigrant visas which are primarily used to bring in high level executives or employees for companies operating in the United States. More specifically, the L-1 visa is a non-immigrant visa which allows companies operating both in the US and abroad to transfer certain classes of employee from its foreign operations to the USA operations for up to seven years; and, the H1-B visa is a non-immigrant visa, which allows a US company to employ a foreign individual for up to six years. 

Although there has been no official change made to the relevant law and policy; skilled foreign nationals, who are qualified and willing to be legal non-immigrants in the United States, are kept out through significantly increased denials, along with often time-consuming Requests for Evidence. These challenges affect the companies directly because only the employers can apply for L-1 or H-1B visas on behalf of their prospective employees. After the expensive and time-consuming process for these visas, receiving denials or more requests for evidence is discouraging for most of these employers.

On the other hand, and ironically, some of the recent changes in the enforcement of the immigration laws of the United States may be interpreted so as to allow illegal immigrants to remain in the United States, pending their applications for certain extreme hardship waivers, or giving them the secret option to remain in the United States illegally, if their waiver applications are not approved. Another interesting statistic is that while 63% to 90% of the employment-based visa applications are, reportedly, delayed or denied, 75% extreme hardship waiver applications for the illegal immigrants are approved.

Faced with the immigration process and the challenges, some of the employers may wonder: is it worth to remain in the United States while the competition abroad can easily employ foreign nationals there?

Observing their frustration and fearing the loss of their business in the United States, I wonder: while trying to “reform” the immigration policy and enforcement (due to concerns mostly caused by illegal immigration), are we destroying the possibility of offering the American businesses the opportunity to grow and remain in the United States all at the same time? Are we encouraging the illegal immigration while keeping out the highly-skilled employment-based immigration?

Rising tall and gracious in the Great Smoky Mountains, it calls my name quite often. If I could answer its buzz every time I felt it, I could probably make it my home for the remainder of my life.

But, it is also habitually flirtatious. Its cool arms in the summer and colorful face in the Fall make it so very undeniable. Thus the hundreds of hikers and visitors…It is, by no means, easy. The shortest hike up Mt. LeConte, the Alum Cave Trail, is 5 miles long but it is the most arduous for its constantly sharp incline.

It is calling my name again. Tomorrow morning, the very early hours will be conquered to meet LeConte again. On all my journeys with LeConte, I have returned speechless, unable to define or describe that feeling. It has been an experience one can only live but can’t fully understand, appreciate, or relay. Like an unprovable crime piece, it has evaded all my efforts to elucidate. And, I know, the handsome harbor isn’t giving in now either! It has coated itself with thick layers of ice and armed its peak with all the challenges known to shun and repel my kind. But, I am hardly in line with the characteristics of my own kind. I abhor easy and yearn for the challenging. So, tomorrow it is, LeConte!

And, this time, I must find a way to reveal its secrets of charm and strength! If not with words, perhaps with the winter photos of him, carefully wrapped with the blankets of love…

 The Incomplete Story of Mt. LeConte in January

An American Woman’s Letters to Turkey: Yes, I Would Love Another Glass of Tea 

It is astonishing that her 30-year journey to Turkey started with Ms. Branning’s love of hans, buildings that are a combination of today’s truck stops, motels, and warehouses. Starting from the Seljuk era and continuing during the 700-year Ottoman rule, “every traveler, whatever his nationality, religion, or social status, was entitled to three days of free lodging with food, medical care, and other services, all at the expense of the State.” Just as every han she has found and caressed in Turkey, Katharine Branning has brought a bouquet of very unique details of the Turkish life, art, religion, culture, and the characteristics of the Turkish people into light.

I found out about this book after watching the video below and read a copy of it, which came to me in Kentucky all the way from Greenville, SC, on an interlibrary loan. Although I feel like I need to read it again and again to hear Katharine Branning more clearly and understand her adventures, my experience has been amazingly rewarding.

This is an excellent book both for the Turkish people and those who would like to travel to Turkey or understand its true fabric through the words of an eloquent, sophisticated and humanitarian American author.

As a Turkish-American, I take pride in my uniqueness, sincerity, assertiveness, and love & respect for not only others around me but also the nature, flowers, and good food. In her book, Ms. Branning highlights, with an amazingly objective yet loving perspective, what it means to be a Turk.

After reading her book, I am not sure if I am as unique as I thought I was. My insatiable desire to be on the mountains, to drink from the clear creeks, to greet all kinds of animals on the trail that may be “wild” to others; to be constantly in the service of others and the service of God, to love without limits and to give with all my heart, … may be a simple confirmation of the fact that I am, in fact, the daughter of my ancestors in Bosnia, Greece, and Anatolia who reached common and permanent characteristics under the Seljuks and Ottomans.

This book also resolved so many dilemmas in my new life as an American. During the last 10 years in my new home, the United States, I have struggled to understand the concepts of individual restraint and privacy, which, to me, arose to the level of abandoning and ignoring the needs of our loved ones in the pursuit of solidarity or individualism. Having clearly observed that, I had turned to myself to find fault and to reform my own emotions to restrain myself from giving, loving and contributing as much as I do. Then, in Ms. Branning’s words, it occurred to me that it was not just me. We, the Turks, feel as though we all suffer from “over-giving,” “over-loving,” and “over-protecting,” and, when we travel or choose to live in “the West,” we wonder if unlearning to be selfless, hospitable, and kind is the only way to be considered “normal” according to the norms of that society. Perhaps, neither the extremely selfish nor the overly selfless ways of life are necessarily the “right way.” But, the awareness brings much understanding and acceptance, and opens doors to curiosity and further research.

In fact, while reading this book, I found myself making my own list of places to see, topics to research, and food to taste. I understood my parents, grandparents and neighbors more. Ms. Branning’s letters made me rediscover myself as a Turk and regain my pride in today’s “if you are associated with that part of the world, you cannot truly become one of us, Americans” world.

Just like she said, “perhaps [Ms. Branning] could not control the outcome of all the events in the world, but [she] could control [her] immediate sphere, the orbit around [her] that [she] influence[s].” That, she certainly did, at least in my case. Through her book, her immediate sphere now includes me because, thanks to her observations, experiences and expressions, she has influenced me in more ways than I can adequately describe. I am so very thankful for her pen which, very clearly, ran through her amazingly beautiful heart.

As a Turk, I am more clear and proud of my heritage because of her book. And, as an American, I am ever more grateful to the American culture and its people for creating valuable authors, like Ms. Branning, who, despite all the obstacles and social perceptions, go out there, experience without fear or judgment, and use their knowledge and journeys to build bridges of peace, love and understanding.

If you are a Turk, this is a “must-read” to rediscover and to celebrate. If you are a foreigner, planning to visit Turkey soon, this book is an excellent source of information and stories which will enrich and enhance your traveling experience in Turkey.

Yes, I absolutely loved this book! But, do not take my word for it! Peruse the quotations below to find your own reasons. Better yet, read your own copy and see if you will find something to highlight and share yourself.

* * * * *

Quotations from the Book

I am an American, not a European, and so I was not branded with the stigma of the Terrible Turks knocking on the doors of Vienna. I only had images of Turks fighting shoulder to shoulder with my countrymen in Korea and standing by our side in NATO.

The first of all republics is the one of language.

Turkish – American Similarities

In comparison, Turkey is a merciful and accepting country. When I went to Turkey for the first time, I sensed a freedom from this guarded sociatial structure. I did not feel like people were watching my every move and waiting for me to make a false step. People were forgiving and kind, like those in America I grew up with. It is perhaps difficult to explain [...], but when I discovered this land and met its friendly people, I knew I could make myself understood here, for we spoke the same language.

Those great fawn plains I saw outside of Sivas were just like the great corn and wheat fields of the United States. The rumblings of their tractors, and the smell of their mud and manure transported me back to the prairies of my uncle’s farm in Kansas.

People in both countries [Turkey and the United States] pepper their conversations with snippets of Scripture, and my MidWest and my Turkey are unapologetic in their defense of their shared values: religion, family and children, good earth, community, sharing, simplicity, faith in God and service to Him, love of nature, animals, daily life, love and marriage, combat for survival, …, and, above all, a love of homeland.

Turkey is a country like America, based on meritocracy. It has a society made up by citizens who have earned their fame by hardwork, not what they inherited by class and birth like in France or England.

The Turkish business community is as dynamically entreprenuerial as America’s; ready to tackle the twenty-first century on equal footing with the rest of the world.

Turkey is full of head-strong, determined, positive, can-do people, not afraid to make mistakes: just like my fellow American citizens.

Our problems are similar, too. I have seen destitute villages filled with hungry children, ramshackle houses, and poverty both in Eastern Turkey and in Appalachia.

“An Ohio yankee in Sultan Osman’s court”

I believe that when Americans hear the word Turkey, they think of it being very exotic and mysterious and can mention only two cities: Istanbul and Ankara. Yet, you would be surprised at how little those two cities really represent the country, just as I would never associate the America I grew up in with New York or Boston.

“My Turkey” is a place where there are festivals of every kind and imagination: there are numerous festivals that honor local folklore and heroes (Nasreddin Hoca, Yunus Emre, Haci Bektas) or celebrate local produce and particularities such as Camel Wrestling in Selcuk and Denizli, pelicans in Birecik, “Powergum” candy in Manisa, cirit (a type of a rugy style polo) in Konya and Erzurum, snakes in Mardin, roses in Konya, cherries in Tekirdag and Isparta, grease wrestling in Edirne, strawberries in Bartin, tea in Rize, apricots in Malatya, tomatoes in Tokat, hazelnuts in Ordu, honey in Cankiri, master chefs in Mengen, ceramics in Kutahya, grape harvesting in Capadocia, watermelons in Diyarbakir (last year’s champion weighing 98 pounds), bullfighting in Artvin, figs in Germencik, coal in Zonguldak, and whirling dervishes in Konya. These festivities can compete with the Ohio State Fair any day.

All the attention Turkish families shower on you can be overwhelming at times but it is something quite marvelous.

There are four terms alone for sister-in-law. This is not an impersonal society.

There are kids everywhere in Turkey, a country with 70% of the population under the age of 35.

The word in Turkish for a young person is “delikanli,” or “crazyblooded,” but my experience with teens in Turkey is that they are a very well-behaved lot.

In Turkey, every name has a special meaning. I have a very pedestrian first name. One day, my Turkish poet friend asked me, “Kathy, just what does your name mean?” I was embarrassed that I could not tell him, for in truth, I have no idea what Katharine means or why my parents chose it for me. I then realized how poor we were in my culture to give our children names detached from any meaning, to deny them the inspiration to grow up to resemble their name.

“A chosen conversation, composed of a few that one esteems, is the greatest happiness of life.”

I have discovered another language all to its own in Istanbul: Bazaar speak. I am constantly amazed at how masterful the shopkeepers and the dealers to the tourist trade can manage to shift gears so effortlessly between Russian, English, French, Italian, and even Japanese with the greatest of ease.

Her ne ararsan kendinde ara. Whatever you seek, look for it within yourself. Haci Bektas Veli

“She is very curious after the manners of other countries and has not that partiality for her own so common to little minds.”

In those moments when you feel your strength has left you, when you are afraid to step out from behind the curtain into the spotlight of the stage of your professional life, when you think there is no life after love, when the suitcase full of your insecurities becomes too heavy to tote around, when you yearn for that intangible lost part of your life, when your life is filled with loneliness and fear – well, at that moment, the empty fawn ribbon road comforts you, for you can see, that even in that barren Anatolian plain, all kinds of beauty can grow.

I have enjoyed many thrills during my travels in Turkey. I have trod the same roads as did Paul before writing many of his Epistles; I have walked in the shadows of the ghosts of Alexander the Great, Santa Claus, Justinian and Theodora, Rumi, Herodotus, Julius Caesar, and Mother Mary. I have swam like Cleopatra in Side in the shadow of an antique Roman theatre. I have prayed in the same mosques as did Sultans, attended performances in the same amphitheatres as the Greek emperors, and I have set out to discover the world from the same town as the famed geographer Strabo.

I have taken shade in the many 500-600 year old plane trees planted by sultans and which have weathered storms, famines and wars.

The excellent network of busses that link all of Turkey today should be a model in transportation efficiency for the rest of the world. …Travel by automobile allows greater liberty to investigate out of the way sites otherwise inaccessible, but Turkish roads are notoriously full of dangerous drivers.

Exactly what is it that pulls me back there every year, like a pilgrim to a holy site? It is, quite simple, because Turkey is full of Turks.

I am easy here

I will never forget the look of total disbelief on all of their faces, for such a thing [not liking flowers] is just inconceivable to a Turk.

It is actually we in the West who are the ignorant ones in matter of politics, and especially in matters concerning the Turks. I think that still today, years after the image of the “Terrible Turks” beating at the doors of Vienna and the curse left by the film Midnight Express, there remain many misconceptions and misunderstandings about the true nature of the country of Turkey and its people.

Turkish People and the Turkish Culture

Turkey is not in the Middle East and the Turkish people are not Arabs. They are not Bedouin camel riders who live in the desert. They speak the Turkish language, not Arabic, and this language is written in the Latin alphabet. The country is predominantly Muslim, but all religions, since the times of Seljuks, may practice there and you can see churches and synagogues throughout the country.

Turks are not terrorists.

[They] are, on their own scale, as culturally mixed as Americans. Turkey has a mixed population: Laz, Kurds, Arabs, and the descendants of the Turkish tribes from Central Asia that came here starting in the tenth century. … There are Turks with big Black Sea noses, tall Balkan blondes, , and short strapping Asians with high cheek bones and slanted eyes that seem to be stepping right off the page of a Persian miniature. There are the fair-skinned blond or red-headed descendants of the Circassians who came to populate the harems of the sultans, lean olive-skinned Mediterranean types, Kurds with long noses and striking vibrant eyes, and the solid, pointy-head, chunky Anatolian peasant with facial features as if carved by a knife. There are women with delicate, almost Far-Eastern features and those with broad Slavic faces; there are the red-haired Crusader babies of the Black Sea, the hatchet-nosed Lazes, and the burnished-skinned arabs of the Hatay.

In French, to describe someone as stubborn, you say, “He is as mule-headed as a Turk!” … I would call them authoritarian and obstinate. Turks are assertive and will always decide what is best for you, even if it is not what you had in mind. You are not allowed to buy an orange sweater if the shopkeeper does not think the color suits you, no matter how green is your money.

Besides flowers, Turks love nature more than any people I have ever met. It is sacred to them. They love nothing better than to climb to high mountain plateaus for picnics, and failing that, to stop by the side of the road to sit under trees and share fresh fruit and tea or barbecue on the grill.

Turks remain close to the farm and to the earth, relish in the coming of spring and and those blooming wild tulips, and appreciate the bounty of the earth, be it rich harvests or honeybees.

Turks love their water like French love his wine. They never drive past a roadside spring without stopping to fill up their bottles and canteens, keeping jerry cans and plastic bottles in the trunk just for this purpose.

Our sense of restraint and privacy holds no interest for them. They eat their mezes together; they drink their tea from the same pot. No Turk eats alone, no Turk dies alone, no Turk goes off on a trip alone, no Turk walks down the street alone.

Turks are melodramatic and emotional, with a culture of exaggeration, the dramatic and the overblown. They are sentimental, huggy, and effusive. They have outsized passions like Texans. The tragic is considered a normal part of life, seen in the old movies that continually replay on the television, in their songs, and on the front pages of newspapers, which are filled stories of passion killings, family dramas, and other such tragic events, accompanied by high-color photographs.

Turks are curious! They will look at anything, from vegetable cutter salesman on ferries, to fistfights, to car crashes, to wedding parties, to people reading books. They do not want to miss anything and will question everything in their surroundings. …with no harm meant, just a curiosity about everything around them.

Turks are interested in seeing what you are interested in. Turks are optimistic and they know how to laugh heartily. They sit patiently during two hour power outages; they wait without complaint for hours for the bus to show up.

Turks are astute business people, and enterprising, quick-witted scrappers. They make things happen and get things accomplished. That is another reason they remind me so much of proactive Americans. They possess a strong sense of individual initiative along with a commitment to social cohesion. They stick together in times of challenge and hardship, are eager for progress, are clever with money, and have tremendous personal courage. They are determined, with the power to wrestle fools. They are survivors.

They are exuberant, shooting guns off at football games and applauding when airplanes land.

Turks have faces that are immediately readable.

Ataturk said, “Ne Mutlu Turkum Diyene” How Happy I am to Say I am a Turk. With the personality traits I have been able to observe in Turks, he had every right and reason to promote awareness of this precious and rich national resource. This is no false pride.

“This I am very sure of, that no European queen has half the quantity and the Empress’s jewels, though very fine, would look very mean near hers.”

Ataturk gave the vote to women before France did (1934 vs 1944) and always stated that a world would judge a country by how it treats its women.

Turkish Women

Turkish women’s gumption, courage and resourcefulness strike me above all. These are no-nonsense, hardworking, get the job done type of women. They run farms, businesses and families. Underneath it all, Turkey is held together today by modern version of Sultanate of Women: not the intriguers in the harems you visited, but the female turbines churning the wheels of liberal professionals and tilling that black earth. These are practical women who take pride in their homes and who believe that a beautifully-kept and well-appointed home is an act of love. They have fast and busy hands, whether for trying knots, making manti dumplings, putting away dishes or embroidering. They are determined, head-strong and have commonsense. They are [also] very stylish and feminine. Above all, [Turkish] women will always choose societal values over monetary ones.

“Women are the true ‘men’ of this world, and it is up to women to teach men how to truly be men.”

The best part of traveling alone is that it is possible to do so, for Turkey is a safe country. I never feel afraid in Turkey. My fate is entrusted to the good care of 72 million pairs of hands at my service.

Turkish hospitality is world-famous and justly merits the acclaim it receives because (1) nomadic origins of the Turks which may raise in them a natural empathy for travelers. The Seljuk sultans established a system of caravansarais offering free room and board to traveling merchants for 3 days at the state’s expense. The Ottoman continued this tradition by building elaborate programs of soup kitchens to disperse food to people in need. Like the unspoken bond of sailors at sea, a traveler is never left unattended or in potential danger; (2) Islamic culture. Tanri misafiri – a visitor from God.

Turks just do not content themselves with being the most hospitable in the world: they have to go above and beyond … to offer incredible acts of human kindness.

Being a Turk of the persistent and stubborn ilk, …

Turkish Food

Turkish food is like the Turks themselves: direct, uncomplicated, straightforward, savory, and bountiful. It is bold and direct and you know exactly what goes into its making.Yet, simple does not mean boring, for these dishes are some of the tastiest I have ever enjoyed – and I consider myself well-versed in the joys of the cuisine reputed to be the finest in the world, that of France, to be able to make such a comparison.

I know of no other country that is so accommodating to those who choose not to eat meat. The cornucopia of fruits and vegetables is unparalleled, even in France. The tradition of cooking vegetables in olive oil and serving them up as a starter dishes can transport any vegetarian from earth to heaven. It is humorously said that a Turkish man can divorce his wife should she serve him eggplant in the same way twice in one month – such is the imaginative variety of their vegetable styles.

Christian History in Turkey

Istanbul was the new Rome, a city where Constantine stopped the persecution of Christians. The Old Testament tells us that Abraham was born in the city of Ur, near the Euphrates River, a city later to become known known as Edessa, seat of the major Crusader state established during the First Crusade of Baldwin II in 1096. Today the city is known by the Turks as “Glorious Urfa”: Sanliurfa. In nearby Harran, Abraham’s two sons, Isaac and Ishmael, were born.

Paul was originally born in Turkey, in the town of Tarsus, now near the modern city of Mersin in the Cukurova Plain. I made a special pilgrimage to Antakya. It was this place where the movement of the followers of Jesus began using a name, Christians, to identify themselves. Paul was called here by Barbanus, a follower of Jesus, to work alongside Peter, Mark, and John to communicate his insight to Christ’s teachings. I visited Kastamonu, considered by many to be the site of the community that inspired Paul to write one of his most significant of letters, the Epistle to the Galatians.

I have visited all of the sites of the famed Seven Churches of the Apocalypse, some in ruins, some built over, described by John in the book of Revelations. Jesus apparently told John to “Write in a book what thou seest, and send it unto the seven churches which are in Asia; unto Ephesus, and unto Symrna, and unto Pergamum, and unto Thyatira, and unto Sardis, and unto Philadelphia, and unto Laodicea” (Revelations 1:11). These were more communities of Christian than churches, yet they were the cradle that spread the Christian faith to the rest of the world. They are located in Turkish cities that have lost trace today of their importance as Christian cities: Izmir (Smyrna), Bergama (Pergamum), Akhisar (Thyateria), Sardis, Alasehir (Philadelphia), and Eskihisar (Laodicea). The most poignant one is in the former Greek colony of Ephesus. It was here, in the shadow of the one of the most important libraries built in Roman times, that John brought Mary, mother of Jesus, to live at the end of her life. The emotional impact of all these sites is the same: I am walking the verses of the Bible.

Next to all these Christian sites of course stand the monuments from other eras and faiths: Hitite altars, Roman temples, synagogues, and Seljuk and Ottoman mosques.

My faith and the faith of Islam are built on the same principles, found over and over again in the sacred texts of Islam and Christianity. The ground that lies at the core of the three major religions of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, is one and the same: love God, and love your neighbor. It is as straightforward as this.

Turks will make pilgrimages to Christian holy sites with the same enthusiasm as they would an Islamic one. In their eyes, if a site is imbued with spirituality, what does it matter whether it is Christian or Muslim? It is holy, period, that is good enough.

Islam and Morality in Turkey

I admire in Islam [the] tolerance towards other religions, and that many of the world’s prophets – Jesus, Moses, Abraham, David, Soloman, Adam, Jonah, Isaac, and Jacob among others, are considered in the Koran as such. I read in the Koran that “the Messiah Jesus son of Marry is a Messenger of God and His Word which he conveyed to Mary and a Spirit from Him.” (Al-Nisa 4:171)

I also admire the strong sense of morality that Turks feel, assured of knowing what is right from wrong, taught to them by the Koran. It especially condemns and curses all racism and terrorism. The Koran states: “Killing a humanbeing is tantamount to killing the whole humanity.” I value, too, the commonality that Christianity shares with Islam.The mosque, like the church, is a place for a ritual and a place for safety, peace and refuge. The Christian sense of service to others, stewardship of God’s gifts, acceptance of God’s message and will, and forgiveness of sins to you and to society are important to Islam as well.

I choose to believe that Muslims are a peaceful nation, and that Islam is not set out to destroy those not on their side. How could a faith this tolerant of Jesus in its Holy Scripture be set out with evil intent for Christianity?

“Made in Turkey”

All vigorous cultures borrow and share amongst each other. Turkey has shared with the world its realm of comfort and luxury, with such furnishings as the divan, the kiosk, and the sofa; the concept of cleanliness, with thick Turkish towels, the steam bath, the massage culture; and the fashions of the kaftan, the turban, fine brocades and velvets, the cassocks, and the Orientalism and odalisque. It has shared the delights of its table, and we now cannot imagine life without coffee and yogurt, or pastrami, halvah, shish kebabs, lokum or caviar. Our vocabulary has been enriched with administrative terms such as pasha, lackey, bashi-bozouk, and sanjak. It shared the lessons of its powerful creators like Sinan and Ataturk. Turkey gave us the game of bridge, the Turkey carpet, and the most magnificent of flowers, the tulip.

The first smallpox vaccine was done in the Ottoman Empire. The Turks used walnuts as the culture, injecting the nutmeg with smallpox pus and letting it ferment in the warm protection of the shell.

Lady Mary Montagu introduced inoculation of the smallpox into England from Turkey.

Stocks of the smallpox virus still sit in secret labs in Russia, England, and the United States, ready to be used as biological warfare, a weapon which will prove more deadly than any nuclear bomb or missile head.

A rug, like life, sets out with firm intentions but is adjusted on the fly.

I believe that the dignity of the Ottoman Turkey still lies under the surface of the young, Westernized Turks today. Just scratch a bit and a Turk will always be a Turk, no matter how much this world changes or how sophisticated his outlook becomes.

Progressive Turkey

Turkey elected a woman prime minister, Tansu Ciller in 1993-1996, a feminism light years ahead of any Western country.

WIFI connections are more universal and reliable than they are in America and are certainly far ahead of Europe.

Turkey certainly is growing: its youth, by its sheer numbers (70% of the population is under the age of 35) is now in charge. From their masses will rise the new Alaeddin Keykubads and Suleyman the Magnificents who will determine the profile of Turkey’s future, a country which could become one of the most surprisingly successful nations of the 21st century.

Somethings, of course, never change in Turkey – the smell of lemon cologne, the chaos of Eminonu, the sonorus blasts of the horns of the Bosphorus ferries, the muezzin’s call, the smell of grilling lamb, the tinkle of spoons in tulip-shaped tea glasses, the taste of Kanlica yogurt, or the color of the fawn hills of Anatolia – but each year, many sensations are built upon these eternal foundations.

This is an old town. The streets are covered with Ottoman style tiles. I say Ottoman because that is what I know. I am sure it is also Greek, Roman and American in some ways. Walking on them, I think of how easy it must be for the rain to go through and give life to whatever gets stuck in the holes.

There are a lot of local stores, with names of people, like Stella, and what people aspire to be or would like to have, like FrameMaker. I wonder what I would name my store if I had one. It would be so cool selling tinny little candles and vibram five-finger shoes exclusively, and getting to know all the local merchants. …Just like it used to be pre-WalMart.

I see an optician’s chart across the street and try to read the letters. Gee! I have some good vision The building above the frame store is called Schlenck Block and was apparently built in 1882. That is some oooold building. I wonder how I would feel if I were such an old building and actually had a soul… Would I still want to be standing? Who knows!..

I look up and see the street sign at the intersection: High Street. Of course, it is! Why can we not find unique names for our streets in the United States? Like olive sap, peach seed, plane leaf, tire screech. I dont know… anything but High Street would do it for me. It isn’t literally high and it is so common… We have to believe that we are more creative than that!

Tired of my own cynicism, I look away to observe people. Students with their cool backpacks, mothers with their children in the strollers, cars with their lights and drivers, trees with their holidays decorations… There is some significant pairing going on here Perhaps, it is just me.

I smile and take another sip from my personal coffee, enriched with honey, cinnamon, cocoa, and whipped cream. The humming guy next to me in the coffee shop, called Kofenya, suddenly feels like I am watching him. I am not. I am just listening to his interpretation of the song in the background. Hopefully, he feels flattered by the unsolicited audience.

It is a beautiful evening in Oxford, Ohio, and as always, life is amazing!

These standards include the launch of a toll-free hotline [(855) 448-6903] that detained individuals can call if they believe they may be U.S. citizens or victims of a crime. According to the announcement, the hotline will be staffed 24 hours a day, seven days a week by ICE personnel at the Law Enforcement Support Center. Translation services will be available in several languages from 7 a.m. until midnight (Eastern) seven days a week.

The standards further state that an individual may be held for a period not to exceed 48 hours (excluding Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays), and advises individuals that if ICE does not take them into custody within the 48 hours, they should contact the Law Enforcement Agency or entity that is holding them to inquire about their release from state or local custody.

This is an important response by the Obama Administration to the recent complaints by some detainees who were held by Law Enforcement Agencies despite the fact that they were U.S. citizens and the illegal immigrant detainees who claimed that they have been the victims of sexual assaults while detained. However, only time will show whether the measures will be implemented, given the fact that the enforcement will involve a significant discretion by the ICE workers.

U.S. Immigration Agency Launches New Hot Line For Detainees – NPR

SOPA seeks to empower the U.S. Department of Justice and the copyright holders to fight online trafficking in copyrighted intellectual property and counterfeit goods. If passed, the bill would allow the U.S. Department of Justice or copyright holders to seek court orders against websites accused of enabling or facilitating copyright infringement. Possible orders could result in actions that would prevent online advertising networks and payment facilitators from doing business with the allegedly infringing website, prohibit search engines from linking to such sites, and require Internet service providers to block access to such sites. The bill would make unauthorized streaming of copyrighted content a crime, with a maximum penalty of five years in prison for 10 pieces of music or movies within six months. If the Internet service companies took voluntarily actions against websites dedicated to infringement, the bill would make liable for damages any copyright holder who knowingly misrepresents that a website is dedicated to infringement.

While it may be said that the introduction of the bill properly brought some very serious infringement issues to light, it also caused a big stir in the world of Internet.

Google, Yahoo, Facebook, Twitter, AOL, LinkedIn, eBay, the Wikimedia Foundation, and human rights organizations such as Reporters Without Borders, the Electronic Frontier Foundation, the ACLU, and Human Rights Watch, and the European Union Parliament opposed the bill from the very start. They find the bill to be against the spirit of the Internet and the exchange of free-flowing information online.

One interesting case involves GoDaddy. GoDaddy is an online registrar for domain names. Although GoDaddy was a strong proponent of SOPA from its initiation, it changed its take on the issue after thousands of its customers decided to leave GoDaddy for showing support for SOPA. In a matter of two days, it went from totally backing the legislation to “We listen to our customers. So, we do not support SOPA until the Internet community does.”

It was fantastic! There were Facebook messages, forum postings, tweets and all kinds of links showing how the Internet community can affect a change in a giant Internet Provider’s course of business action.

Remembering that SOPA means STICK in Turkish, in a way, Go-Daddy showed its customers its support for SOPA and the customers showed Go-Daddy a STICK. And, the end result: two SOPAs cancelled each other out

Here is to the power of people and their own way of showing a stick to cancel out another one!

Have you ever had Turkish tea? No, I am not talking about the Lipton tea bags that are imported from Turkey. Rather, when someone says Turkish tea, that in itself has a story, beginning all the way at its brewing to the way it is enjoyed in every house, cafe, street, or restaurant in Turkey.

If I were to write a story about Turkish tea, I would find myself too familiar, too assuming to be able to find all the analogies Katharine Branning is able to, so eloquently, describe. Katharine Branning apparently spent considerable amount of time in Turkey, and wrote a book titled Yes, I Would Love Another Glass of Tea.

I come from a Bosnian father and a Greek mother. But, I was raised in Turkey and I consider myself Turkish-American. After watching this video, I must say three things: (1) I look forward to reading her book, (2) even with all my wonderful experiences in Turkey, I could not have told a better tea story, and (3) I am more Turkish than I have realized .

Read the Book Review

Here is a short video of an excerpt from her book, describing the Turkish tea in an incredibly accurate and inspiring way. Enjoy the video: [there is a very short Turkish introduction. The story in English starts at the 12th second.]