East + West = Identity Crisis

April 8, 2009. Istanbul really is a world of its own, and there’s nothing quite like it. It is surrounded by water on every side, including right down the middle by the Bosphorus that separates European Istanbul from the Asian side. This makes Istanbul the only metropolis in the world to be situated on two continents. History imposes itself on you, and one cannot help but gaze at the remains of the Ottoman Empire and not be struck with awe by its architectural and cultural feats.

We spent roughly one week in Istanbul before exploring further down Turkey’s western coast to Selcuk, Ephesus, and Pamukkale. While some inhabitants claimed to be European and boasted of different sites being the longest/highest/largest blah blah blah in Europe, we were often baffled because after all, Turkey is still considered Central Asia, and we certainly were not in Europe. Others quite proudly flaunted and discussed their strong Asian heritage and loved to boast of Rumi’s strong and long presence in Turkey after having left the Balkh province of northern Afghanistan. And, most peculiar was how much more modern and Western the Asian side of Istanbul turned out to be in comparison to the so-called European side with its skyline studded with mosques and minarets. Since most Istanbullus are desperate for inclusion into the European Union, it seemed very apparent that there was some level of denial among the younger generation over their ‘continentality,’ lending to a bit of an identity crisis. That aside, Istanbul has now become one of my favorite cities in the world with the perfect balance of it all. As a renowned author once said, “If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.”












Pamukkale is an incredibly unusual natural wonder of the world, and I figured it was appropriate to give a little bit of background before posting photos. The word means cotton castle in Turkish and is a natural site in southwestern Turkey in the Denizli Province. The ancient city of Hierapolis is situated just above Pamukkale. Quoted from Wikipedia: “The tectonic movements that took place in the fault depressions of the Menderes river basin triggered frequent earthquakes and gave rise to the emergence of a number of very hot springs. The water from one of these springs, with its large mineral content—chalk in particular—created Pamukkale. Apart from some radioactive material, the water contains large amounts of hydrogen carbonate and calcium, which leads to the precipitation of calcium bi-carbonate. In the course of time, some sources dried up because of earthquakes, while new ones arose around it. The effect of this natural phenomenon has left thick, white layers of limestone and travertine cascading down the mountain slope, resembling a frozen waterfall.”

Return from the Ottoman Empire

April 7, 2009. I’m still in disbelief as to how quickly time is flying. Ten months have passed since I came to Kabul on assignment, and I’ve just returned from a most amazing R&R in Turkey with my very good friends, Vivek and Sherin from Washington, DC. Nearly every moment of our two weeks spent primarily along the Western coastline, we indulged in the rich history, culture, and dynamism of life in the former great Ottoman Empire.

I arrived a few days earlier than Vivek and Sherin and decided to fly directly from Istanbul to Kayseri to visit the famous Cappadocia region, renowned for its unusual lunar landscape. I stayed in one of its many cave hotels, something very unique to its tourism industry. On my way from the airport, I met another lone Colombian traveler who was also coincidentally staying at the same hotel. We were both warmly met at the Gamirasu Cave Hotel by Hamida, one of the friendliest, warmest individuals I’ve come across in a long time. Before hitting the sack after a full day’s travel, I played translator between the Colombian and Hamida, and I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of Spanish that suddenly came to my assistance in that moment.

The following morning, I began my tour with a young group of Americans to Kaymakli Underground City, one of several underground settlements. We followed that with some hiking in Soganli Valley, which is full of rock cut churches rich with frescoes, surrounded by table top mountains. The landscape is incredibly unique in that it is largely underlain by sedimentary rocks formed in lakes and streams and ignimbrite deposits erupted from ancient volcanoes approximately three to nine million years ago. The rocks of Cappadocia eroded into hundreds of pillars and minaret-like forms. The volcanic deposits are soft rocks that people have carved out to form some of the most amazing houses, churches and monasteries-cum-madrassas, full of frescoes painted with very resilient vegetable dyes. We visited a newly discovered archaeological excavation site of mosaic houses in Sahinefende-Sobessos before heading to Cemil, an old Turkish town settled by the Selcuk Turks at one point. After finishing off the tour in the small Greek town of Mustafapasa, I arranged to observe a Sufi prayer session.

On my second and last day in Cappadocia, I was the lone traveler with our tour guide from yesterday, Mustafa, and our driver whom we called Hajji Sahib, as he had just returned from Hajj in Mecca. The day started at 5:00 am to sail over the lunar landscape in a hot air balloon, which I highly recommend to anyone planning to make this visit. The views of the rock formations in Devrent Valley and Uchisar are breathtaking! After a good, hot breakfast, we visited the Pasabag fairy chimneys, “where the voice of wind mixes with the song of fairies.” We stopped for lunch in Avanos, known for its terra cotta work of art dating as far back as 3000 BC. The pottery is spectacular, and though I’m sure very over-priced, I couldn’t resist buying enough of it to require a shipment back to the States, only to be stored with the rest of my worldly possessions at Amma and Appa’s house.

Vivek and Sherin had, by now, arrived in Istanbul, and it was time to make my way back to the city where East truly meets West.

Back in Lebanon

Below are a few entries that I wrote in my journal over the course of the five weeks spent in Lebanon.

July 24, 2007. I’m back in Beyrouth, and it is somehow more surreal than the first time. But, naturally, more familiar, and I feel at ease as if I’d never left the place the first time. I’ve been assigned here for roughly five weeks to contribute to the research and design of a municipal capacity building program to support local economic development.

It’s already after dark now. A stronger sense of calm permeates the mildly lit streets of Hamra since the July war of 2006, and I notice new developments and restaurants lining the streets to the hotel used by most IRD employees on assignment. The Johnnie Walker ads have long been removed, and the count on the Rafik Hariri billboard stands at 809 tonight.

After entering the lobby of the hotel, its familiarity welcomes a sense of comfort and security. Familiar faces and procedures, though some new, and news of missing faces provide a sense of connection- Samer, the bellboy, finally decided to join his sister in California, despite his very vocal, anti-American fits during our conversations last summer; Nay off to give life in Qatar a try; and Abed, the waiter in the hotel restaurant, has moved onto a new job. I get my room key and am surprised to see that I’ve ended up in the same room that I occupied during my five weeks in Beirut last year.

I immediately turn to the balcony and take in the familiar view, which I have reminisced about many times since last October. In a panic, I take it all in forcefully, in an effort to savor it all as a pre-emptive measure against the shock of a potentially harsh reality. Fortunately, this is real.

July 31, 2007. “It is a country of contradictions—that is what keeps it interesting.” This is how one Lebanese woman describes her motherland. And, so true and poignant this is, and a scene that I caught sight of on my way yesterday to a meeting at one of the ministries was very illustrative of this. Downtown’s beautiful Parisian streets, buildings, and squares are practically desolate, and walking through them reminded me of empty Hollywood lots at Universal Studios. As I crossed over the barricades and checkpoint leading to the Parliament (as no cars are permitted near the site for security reasons), the security guard approached me and said I needed to go to another block, turn right, and proceed another two blocks before I arrived at my destination. As I walk down, I can’t help wondering whether he’s playing the fool with a clearly lost foreigner trying to find her way around the city. As I make the first right, the Ameen mosque towers over me, and its magnificence, magnitude, and beauty take my breath away. As I stare at it in awe, something else catches my eye—from the corner, I realize the entire space before me is densely packed with tents—similar to what I witnessed in August and September 2006 when the displaced were sheltered under similar conditions right in the heart of Beirut. I begin to slightly panic as I walk briskly by the tents down the desolate side road. I can just barely make out faces peering from the shadows through the flaps of the tents. I turn around once to take in the sight before taking the second and final right turn into the ministry building.

I am amazed by the contrast. Newly constructed government buildings and the colossal mosque- the pride of Beyrouth- line the streets and in this random gap among it all are who? Displaced? Refugees? I’m completely baffled. I want to capture the moment on film, but my gut instinct is to keep walking and be satisfied with the mental photo that I’ve managed to capture. Later that day, I ask a woman at the ministry who those people are- “It’s the opposition, since the first of December. They continue to remain there in protest.” I’m shocked. I recall seeing this on the news. And, they’re still here?

As I leave the building and begin the dreaded walk back by the tents, a shiver runs down my spine. I can feel the eyes piercing into the lone, unaccompanied woman walking by. I am witnessing history in the making, and I feel humbled and blessed.

August 2, 2007. There has been no time to write here, which has been a real pity. It amazes me how differently I’m perceiving the country this time around. It is far more liberal than I remember. There again is the juxtaposition of women wearing next to nothing walking alongside their Muslim sisters, covered from head to toe in their abayas and even the occasional burqa.

The young seem to have grown apathetic, probably as a result of fatigue, frustration, and hopelessness from the political divides that torment and burden this country, stalling/stunting any progress politically, socially, or economically—advancements that this country has much potential for. Where does one draw the line between resilience and apathy? Yes, the people on the frontlines are resilient, but what concerns me here, as it does in Sri Lanka and other countries plagued by conflict, is the lack of engagement of youth—of the younger generation. Most in the capital that I spoke to are removed and really apathetic to all that occurs in the rural areas. If it does not concern them, then they are happy to just be able to focus on a life that revolves around the self and its interests.

When I asked a young woman at a ministry, in between business talk, of her opinion on the elections this Sunday, I was a little taken aback, yet not completely surprised by her response that resonated with most Lebanese youth living in the capital. These are precarious times in Lebanon. The recent stream of car bombs amidst political upheaval lends to paranoia and concern among people here. While some say to leave the country before the fifth, others claim that aside from a few skirmishes, things are likely to remain relatively calm. Two assassinated MPs are to be replaced- one from Beirut and the other from Al-Mattan in Mount Lebanon. Both were of the Hariri camp, but popular opinion is that the opposition will snatch these seats. Some expect that all hell will break loose, but I’m confident that will not be a concern until September.

The political landscape is as convoluted and ugly as it is in Sri Lanka in some ways. But, at least once can say that comparatively speaking, there is still some law and order left in this country.

A Visit to the Land of the Dead Sea

October 2, 2006. After a very busy five weeks in Lebanon, I managed to take off a couple of days to visit Harissa, about 30 minutes north of Beirut and Byblos, which is roughly another hour north and is said to date back to 7,000 B.C.!






















After arriving in Amman, Jordan after a very busy five weeks in Lebanon, I went straight to our office and met some colleagues, who have been incredibly hospitable and helpful with everything. I also got a chance to meet with Hameed, who is the Program Manager for our Humanitarian Assistance program in Northern Iraq. He also decided to discuss a GANTT chart for his new exercise regime, which I found quite amusing. Over the last few days, I got the opportunity to relax and do a bit of sightseeing before heading back to DC. This country’s history is incredibly rich, and the visits around Amman and to Jerash, Petra, and the Dead Sea were out of this world! Here are a few photos.

Visit to the Southern Villages

September 19, 2006. Exactly a week ago, Mike and I finally made it down to the South to witness the destruction first hand. Jihad, our driver, drove us to several of the villages that we hope to work in to meet with the municipality leaders and representatives of the Ministry of Energy and Water to obtain the most current information available detailing the water/sanitation needs. We visited each of the proposed villages to ensure that the information collected in the offices was consistent with the field needs and assessment.

The entire day was a very surreal experience, as we were finally at the heart of this country, away from the hustle and bustle and modernity of Beirut and in rural, traditional Lebanon. The south enjoys a very beautiful terrain that is primarily devoted to the agriculture sector. In nearly every village we visited, construction and rebuilding efforts had already begun under local leadership, and it was very clear that the people have suffered this havoc far too many times. The ability to get back up on their feet and immediately deal with their needs demonstrated a resiliency that reminds me very much of the Tamils in the Northeast of Sri Lanka. It was very difficult visiting some of the sites of previous carnage, particularly those where the last Israeli attacks occurred. The grave sites still remain. I will never forget this experience.

We found out that one of the proposals we submitted has been awarded funding from the donor. Under the Lebanon Emergency Relief and Employment program, we will be providing farmers vouchers to restock on the required seeds and tools to jumpstart agriculture activities and provide mirco and small enterprises micro-grants to replenish their inventories and restart business in order to support immediate income generation. The next couple of weeks will be primarily dedicated to setting up this program, ironing out the methodology for implementing the proposed activities, and completing the recruitment of staff before I head to our Jordan office.