Fatigue makes us feel guilty. Emily was tired and didn't really want to go out into the cold, chilling wind that swept through the city last night. We had intended to take a ferry and explore the Asian shore. It was Friday night and Istanbul doesn't seem to sleep. But Emily wanted to. A mix of getting past jet lag, the fatigue of a new and very busy city, and the shock of the cool and half-gray Autumn days was tiring.
Where did this cold come from? Until last week, we lived in mild to hot weather. Even with the couple of days of rain in Cannes, it was never chilling the way Istanbul turns when the wind picks up. It was never so damp. Until now, our lives have felt like ongoing summer. The weather outside does not match our hearts and outlook.
So, I pointed out to Emily that if we act always as tourists, we'll exhaust ourselves. We are also living our lives out in the world and it's okay to have a night in just as we would at home. We have two weeks in Istanbul and we've been using the time well. So, a night of sorting photos into sets and albums doesn't make us bad people.
Besides, the real learning doesn't happen exclusively out on the streets and places we go. You always think that seeing the sights and walking the neighborhoods will give you the most perspective. While it's invaluable and what you think your purpose to be, some of the best learning happens at the cafes where we work.
In France, I spoke the most French at cafes. I learned about people and what they think. Without cafe conversation, how would I know that half of Cannes wants to bail on the EU? How would I know that if you don't take the time for an after-lunch limoncelo, you're just wasting your life?
Yesterday, the best Istanbul education was also in a cafe. This huge cafe at Kabatas across from the Bosphorous caught Emily's eye each time we passed it. So we went, only to discover that not only is it one of the busiest cafes in town, but it specializes in it's own brand of chocolate, chocolate treats and gourmet pastries. Perhaps it's because of these that it's so popular.
In any case, just after Emily moved to a seat where she could plug in her laptop, a nicely dressed Turkish man in his early 60s sat down at the table next to me. As usual, the iPad became a conversation starter. He asked in careful, hesitant but good English about the iPad, what it does and how I like it. He, like nearly everyone else, was most taken with the keyboard docking station which turns the iPad from an interesting tool into a viable option for a laptop replacement.
The iPad recently became available in Turkey, but until he saw me using it and I showed him about it, he hadn't considered it. I have a feeling Apple has a new customer coming.
But once we got past keyboard talk, things got more interesting. It turns out this man is a censor. He is officially a high level Producer for one of Turkey's television networks. He used to actually produce television shows, but promotions and successes elevated him into a position of responsibility which he sort of hates. The state carefully monitors everything broadcasted. Hussein's job is to make sure programming complies with state regulations. This makes him a censor. He doesn't enjoy it and it's not a concept he defends. However, he is proud that his diligence and judgement protects his company and the people who work for it from hefty fines and legal problems.
What does Hussein screen for? Product placements in movies and shows. Characters can't be seen drinking Coke or wearing a Seiko watch - Turkey considers it unfair free advertising air time. In light of recent anti-smoking laws, no images of people smoking can be aired.
No negative comments about any religion or religious figures - even in jest. Even fairly benign comments have to go. Hussein gave the example of the Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy movie "Before Sunrise" which is a very benign, non-explicit romance. At one point, two nuns and a priest pass the couple and they make some remark about clergy. That had to be cut out.
Most importantly, and perhaps most difficult - no slander. Hussein has to screen for lies. As a result, this means critical opinions are all subject to review. Also no denigration or insults. So statements like, "He's an idiot!" "You have no idea what you're talking about." and even "Jerk" are out. This pretty much takes out at least half of American news media.
Whatever's left can air. Hussein's big problem - producers come to him daily begging to leave their work or content in tact. He understands perfectly why they want that and sympathizes. He was once a producer like them. So, when they are set on their view, he doesn't make it a personal issue - because he sees nothing wrong with what they want. Instead, Hussein just writes a report outlining the risk exposure and sends it to the executives. The producers can then debate it with the top level guys.
Hussein has two years to retirement and says it feels like 202 years away. He hates it. Being honest and doing good work has gotten him far in life, he said - but this role is a reward that has been too heavy.
At one point, his integrity and hard work got him a job offer in the United Kingdom back in the 80s. But his mother was sick and he promised her he would return to Istanbul following his UK education.
A few years later, an American company wanted him to be part of a news production team they were assembling for Middle East coverage, but in 1987 with no pagers or cell phones, they couldn't find him when he was away for a week's vacation and after four days of calling his home, they offered the job to someone else. He wonders what his life would have been like had he been home to pick up that phone.
Either way, he's successful and makes good money. He was born in a poor part of town and lived in a 36 square foot "apartment" with his mother. He decided he would get an education and go to Europe and the UK. People told him those were dreams for people like him. But he worked two jobs from age 12 onward along with school and achieved all his goals. Hussein lived very modestly in England and worked while studying. When he traveled to Venice, he slept in a sleeping bag in park so he could afford to see Venice.
Now, he goes to France, England and elsewhere in style.
"People worry that they can't do it. When they worry, they stop themselves. When you're young, it's easier. But if you think you can't, then it's not possible."
I told Hussein that he's an interesting person and has led an interesting life.
"Everyone's life is interesting."
"But some people are afraid and don't try things the way you do."
"In Turkey, people say 'My life is noble.' They try to make their life good."
I think what Hussein was trying to say and having some trouble elucidating in English is that everyone's life has intrinsic worth and that we each bring meaning to our lives. It doesn't matter what specifically you achieve or do - it's who you endeavor to be.
He said it's a Turkish value. That endears Turkish culture to me.
Hussein intends to spend the rest of his life in Istanbul.
"The city never sleeps. All my family is here. My father is here. You meet all kinds of people and see everything happening. All the knowledge in the world is here. You can learn something everyday."
So, I will take Hussein's words to heart. Today, we go out into the city to see some sights and walk some streets. I will expect to learn something. As I watch how people live and what they are doing, I will enjoy that - whether you're an American traveler walking to the Hagia Sofia on foot, a Chinese tourist on a bus tour stopping at Topkapi Palace, a man shining shoes on a street corner, or a faithful Muslim suppliantly praying at the Blue Mosque - we can all share how noble life is.
Where did this cold come from? Until last week, we lived in mild to hot weather. Even with the couple of days of rain in Cannes, it was never chilling the way Istanbul turns when the wind picks up. It was never so damp. Until now, our lives have felt like ongoing summer. The weather outside does not match our hearts and outlook.
So, I pointed out to Emily that if we act always as tourists, we'll exhaust ourselves. We are also living our lives out in the world and it's okay to have a night in just as we would at home. We have two weeks in Istanbul and we've been using the time well. So, a night of sorting photos into sets and albums doesn't make us bad people.
Besides, the real learning doesn't happen exclusively out on the streets and places we go. You always think that seeing the sights and walking the neighborhoods will give you the most perspective. While it's invaluable and what you think your purpose to be, some of the best learning happens at the cafes where we work.
In France, I spoke the most French at cafes. I learned about people and what they think. Without cafe conversation, how would I know that half of Cannes wants to bail on the EU? How would I know that if you don't take the time for an after-lunch limoncelo, you're just wasting your life?
Yesterday, the best Istanbul education was also in a cafe. This huge cafe at Kabatas across from the Bosphorous caught Emily's eye each time we passed it. So we went, only to discover that not only is it one of the busiest cafes in town, but it specializes in it's own brand of chocolate, chocolate treats and gourmet pastries. Perhaps it's because of these that it's so popular.
In any case, just after Emily moved to a seat where she could plug in her laptop, a nicely dressed Turkish man in his early 60s sat down at the table next to me. As usual, the iPad became a conversation starter. He asked in careful, hesitant but good English about the iPad, what it does and how I like it. He, like nearly everyone else, was most taken with the keyboard docking station which turns the iPad from an interesting tool into a viable option for a laptop replacement.
The iPad recently became available in Turkey, but until he saw me using it and I showed him about it, he hadn't considered it. I have a feeling Apple has a new customer coming.
But once we got past keyboard talk, things got more interesting. It turns out this man is a censor. He is officially a high level Producer for one of Turkey's television networks. He used to actually produce television shows, but promotions and successes elevated him into a position of responsibility which he sort of hates. The state carefully monitors everything broadcasted. Hussein's job is to make sure programming complies with state regulations. This makes him a censor. He doesn't enjoy it and it's not a concept he defends. However, he is proud that his diligence and judgement protects his company and the people who work for it from hefty fines and legal problems.
What does Hussein screen for? Product placements in movies and shows. Characters can't be seen drinking Coke or wearing a Seiko watch - Turkey considers it unfair free advertising air time. In light of recent anti-smoking laws, no images of people smoking can be aired.
No negative comments about any religion or religious figures - even in jest. Even fairly benign comments have to go. Hussein gave the example of the Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy movie "Before Sunrise" which is a very benign, non-explicit romance. At one point, two nuns and a priest pass the couple and they make some remark about clergy. That had to be cut out.
Most importantly, and perhaps most difficult - no slander. Hussein has to screen for lies. As a result, this means critical opinions are all subject to review. Also no denigration or insults. So statements like, "He's an idiot!" "You have no idea what you're talking about." and even "Jerk" are out. This pretty much takes out at least half of American news media.
Whatever's left can air. Hussein's big problem - producers come to him daily begging to leave their work or content in tact. He understands perfectly why they want that and sympathizes. He was once a producer like them. So, when they are set on their view, he doesn't make it a personal issue - because he sees nothing wrong with what they want. Instead, Hussein just writes a report outlining the risk exposure and sends it to the executives. The producers can then debate it with the top level guys.
Hussein has two years to retirement and says it feels like 202 years away. He hates it. Being honest and doing good work has gotten him far in life, he said - but this role is a reward that has been too heavy.
At one point, his integrity and hard work got him a job offer in the United Kingdom back in the 80s. But his mother was sick and he promised her he would return to Istanbul following his UK education.
A few years later, an American company wanted him to be part of a news production team they were assembling for Middle East coverage, but in 1987 with no pagers or cell phones, they couldn't find him when he was away for a week's vacation and after four days of calling his home, they offered the job to someone else. He wonders what his life would have been like had he been home to pick up that phone.
Either way, he's successful and makes good money. He was born in a poor part of town and lived in a 36 square foot "apartment" with his mother. He decided he would get an education and go to Europe and the UK. People told him those were dreams for people like him. But he worked two jobs from age 12 onward along with school and achieved all his goals. Hussein lived very modestly in England and worked while studying. When he traveled to Venice, he slept in a sleeping bag in park so he could afford to see Venice.
Now, he goes to France, England and elsewhere in style.
"People worry that they can't do it. When they worry, they stop themselves. When you're young, it's easier. But if you think you can't, then it's not possible."
I told Hussein that he's an interesting person and has led an interesting life.
"Everyone's life is interesting."
"But some people are afraid and don't try things the way you do."
"In Turkey, people say 'My life is noble.' They try to make their life good."
I think what Hussein was trying to say and having some trouble elucidating in English is that everyone's life has intrinsic worth and that we each bring meaning to our lives. It doesn't matter what specifically you achieve or do - it's who you endeavor to be.
He said it's a Turkish value. That endears Turkish culture to me.
Hussein intends to spend the rest of his life in Istanbul.
"The city never sleeps. All my family is here. My father is here. You meet all kinds of people and see everything happening. All the knowledge in the world is here. You can learn something everyday."
So, I will take Hussein's words to heart. Today, we go out into the city to see some sights and walk some streets. I will expect to learn something. As I watch how people live and what they are doing, I will enjoy that - whether you're an American traveler walking to the Hagia Sofia on foot, a Chinese tourist on a bus tour stopping at Topkapi Palace, a man shining shoes on a street corner, or a faithful Muslim suppliantly praying at the Blue Mosque - we can all share how noble life is.
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