Buralarda The Newsletter of Arkadaşlar, Friends of Turkey Number 49 September 2018

2018 Cumhuriyet Bayram Celebrations arlier this year, Jordan Scepanski (T-4) wrote the following While this may not be the last time we’ll observe the Cum- letter to Turkey PC Arkadaşlar living in the Carolinas. huriyet Bayram together, it will be the last year for the larger YourE editors thought it well worth sharing with the greater organization of which we have been a part. Let’s make this the membership. Following Jordan’s letter, you’ll find details on Carolina Arkadaşlar gathering with the greatest number of at- the planned celebrations that we’ve been informed about to tendees in our (relatively) short history. I hope to hear from many date. We hope you are able to attend one of these. And, others of you soon and to see you in October or November. may be in the works! If you are interested in organizing a cel- Hoşçakal, Jordan ebration, contact Linda Scheffer for information on Arkadaşlar members in your area. Florida. Send Paul Kirwan, T-8, your RSVPs for lunch at noon on Sunday, Nov. 4, at the Bosphorus Restaurant, 108 Dear Carolina Arkadaşlar, South Park Ave., Winter Park, FL, 407-644-8609. Kirwanpc@ As most of you are aware, the national Arkadaşlar organiza- gmail.com. tion is winding down its activities and will not remain a formal organization beyond the end of the year. In the near term many Portland, Oregon. Mimi Sanders, T-3, is the contact person of the regional groups will continue to gather for special events, for the get-together at the home of Bob and Sylva Staab, T-9, notably around the Cumhuriyet Bayram, but as former Peace on Sunday, Nov. 4. [email protected]. Corps volunteers who served in Turkey grow older and (sadly) Washington, D.C. Linda Scheffer, T-8, is taking RSVPs for diminish in numbers, opportunities to see others who shared our experiences in the memleket will be fewer and fewer. With no the dinner Sunday, Oct. 28, 5:30–8:00 PM, at Kazan Restau- future prompting from our D.C. colleagues to organize a Cum- rant, 6813 Redmond Drive, McLean, VA, 703-734-1960, $55; huriyet Bayram dinner in the fall, and with a recent history of [email protected]. lowered attendance due to all kinds of conflicts among those of Kansas. Susan Holm, T-13, is the contact person. Date, time, us in the Carolinas, I’m not sure how many more times we will and place in Topeka TBD. [email protected]. celebrate our Turkish connections together. All of which is to say, we ought to plan at least one more gathering. Ohio. Catherine McCutcheon, T-12, is the contact person. My wife, Lea Wells, and I will host the gathering, at either our [email protected]. home or in another venue and would be pleased to have as many Washington state. Dana Marmion, T-15, is coordinating a of you as possible join us. To those of you residing outside the potluck dinner at the home of Ruth Hultengren (Dale Hulten- Triangle (especially our friends in South Carolina), I know that we have had an almost unbroken history of meeting here—that gren, T-15) on Saturday, Oct. 27, at 4:00 PM. marmionducky@ is, in Raleigh, Durham, or in Chapel Hill—and that has made gmail.com. attendance by many of you difficult. Aside from a couple of Maine. Joan Hammer Grant, T-1, is taking RSVPs for lunch years when we ventured to Asheboro, I don’t recall ever lifting at noon Sunday, Oct. 28, at the Mediterranean Grill, 10 School an Arkadaşlar Republic Day toast outside the Triangle. All I St., Freeport, ME. [email protected]. can say is a critical mass of Turkey RPCVs live in the area, and thus we’ve tended to make this “Carolina Arkadaşlar Central.” NC/SC. Jordan Scepanski, T-4, is taking RSVPs. Jordan and I would hope that our having the dinner once more in Chapel wife, Lea Wells, will host the event either at their home or an- Hill won’t dissuade anyone from making plans to attend, and for other venue, on Saturday, Oct. 27. [email protected]. those of you farther afield who might be persuaded to consider Wisconsin. Ephraim Frankel, T-9, is the contact person. De- coming if lodgings were available for you, I and my fellow Tar Heels in the central part of the state would do our best to see if tails TBD. [email protected]. we can accommodate you in typical (or hopefully better) Peace New York. Hank Levy has reserved Uskudar, 1405 2nd Ave., Corps fashion. So, in addition to letting me know your preferences NYC, for Sunday, Oct. 28, noon–3:00, $26 inclusive. Contact about days and dates (we don’t necessarily need to do Saturday, Hank at [email protected]. October, 27, that’s just the weekend closest to the 29th of October), indicate if you might like us to explore your staying with some of the local Arkadaşlar. Postscripts to “Lost on a Mountain” by George Wilson, PC-RCD Rep and CARE I was a Peace Corps physician at the time, based in İzmir. I arrived in the summer of 1966. I used to see volunteers in his article in Buralarda brought back sad memories of my office about two weeks each month, and go on the road the tragedy back in January, 1967. with my wife, Gloria, for the other two weeks to visit PCVs TLet me first explain that for 50 years I have kept a small cedar at their sites. Our region was western Turkey. We traveled in box in my sock drawer. I keep loose foreign change in this box. It a four-wheel drive Chevy Carry-All. It had two doors, with a has traveled with me all over the USA, also in Saudi Arabia and split bench seat in front, and each seat back tilted forward to Venezuela, where I worked. Inside this box I have kept a paper give access to the back seat. The double doors at the back of bill from Budapest. This was given to me when they found the the truck opened into a spacious cargo area. Pearsons. The patrol people at Uladağ had found this bill with Gloria and I recall the tragedy of the Pearsons’ deaths, but a burnt hole in a shelter that Dennis had made, and he had used we recall it differently—maybe because it was 50 years ago. it to try to start a fire with an icicle-and-sun tactic…maybe he We had gone up to Uludağ to go skiing during Christmastime. had been a Boy Scout and learned that it could be done. Uludağ was a nascent resort, but Turkey was not touristically On a cold snowy night, the chambermaids at the hotel dis- sophisticated at the time. I recall that Christmas decorations covered that the Pearsons had not returned as planned. They were quite sparse, but there actually were a few. They did have called the Peace Corps Ankara office to ask for help. Since I some kind of a ski lift, as I recall. The peaks of the hills where was their PC representative covering rural Community De- the lifts ended were not well marked. If you came down the velopment, I was asked to quickly drive up to Uludağ in that same side as you went up, you would be on ski trails. If you famous green suburban we always used to travel from one PC went down on the other side of that particular hill or mountain, site to another. I had visited the Pearson many times before at you were no place. their site. I ask Imre, our staff translator, to drive with me. On one particular day, there was a blizzard. The ski lift con- When we arrived the whole area was bogged down with tinued to run despite the obvious risks. You couldn’t see your thick fog. We were all confused as to what to do, since the hand before your face. We did not venture out that day to ski, ski patrol people could not venture out in such fog. We con- but we imagined that if we had done so, we would not have been nected with the Turkish Airforce to see if they would send in able to easily discern which way to come down the mountain. a helicopter, but again the fog was a detriment. Consequently, We believe that someone came into the ski lodge to tell us we had to wait until morning to see if the weather improved. that someone was lost on the mountain. Gloria recalls that we A very painful wait. It was a bitter cold few days. were awakened at around midnight and asked to help with the The next morning the fog had lifted, so the patrol people search for a missing French teacher because we had the only headed up the mountain to look for tracks. In their confusion, four-wheel drive vehicle. I believe that it was for the Pearsons, the Pearsons had gone in the wrong direction, away from the but Gloria thinks that it was for the teacher, a Turkish man who hotel. Around noon the ski patrol team reported finding a taught French. Gloria and I agree that there were altogether three lean-to hut made by breaking down pine branches to protect who were lost, but we’re not sure if it was on different days. from the freezing winds. Regarding the Pearsons, we were told that they were from It was at this spot that they found this Budapest bill with Minnesota and they were considered to be strong outdoors the burnt circle. Soon afterward, they found Dennis leaning hikers and were expected to be able to cope with rough condi- against a tree holding Marcia. She had died, and he was 95% tions. We never knew them personally. frozen. They tried to revive him, but he soon died from the When we left on the search, we piled into our Chevy. I drove. terrible weather. Gloria and someone else sat beside me on the front seat bench. When we returned to Ankara I was asked to go to their vil- In the back were two Turkish hunters and one PCV. Each of lage, report to the villagers what had happened, and pack up the hunters carried shotguns, and I remember feeling nervous their belongings in a trunk. We sent these belongings to the that their guns could go off in the truck as it bounced along the parents in Minnesota. Whenever I see that bill in my cedar terrible roads. I turned on my bright lights and my emergency box, I’m reminded of those sad days. flashers hoping that we might be seen. We sounded the horn every minute. The roadway was really narrow and ran along by Barry Blum, PC MD, and Gloria Blum the side of a cliff. It was snowing. The road was icy. At one he September 2017 issue of Buralarda really got to us. point there was a waterfall coming down the cliff on our left, First was the discussion about “Whither Arkadaşlar.” running across the narrow ice-covered roadway, and then down ThenT was the acknowledgement of all of us growing older the right side of the shoulderless road, a steep drop-off. We were and wondering what to do with our possessions and even our skidding. Gloria remembers reading our obituaries in her mind. memories. And then came the recollection of the tragic deaths Out of nowhere, a large black creature ran across the road- of Dennis and Marcia Pearson on Uludağ. way. It looked to be the size of a wolf or bear, or maybe some 2 kind of monster, but apparently it was a wild boar. The Turks in the back seat got quite excited and started to push the front Instagram Message from a Student right seat forward to get out the door with their guns. Gloria from Kozan, Turkey feared she might get shot in the head by one of the shotguns poking into her head. The hunters wanted to shoot the boar. by Judith Jerald, T-8 We did stop. They did get out, but no boar. ear Judith this is Meral from Kozan. If you are my teacher After several hours of driving around, we returned to the I will be very happy to find you. Because you have ef- lodge. No luck. fectedD very much to our life by your kind dedicated work in The next morning, I was somehow invited or asked to board small town, Kozan, Regards a search and rescue helicopter to look for the Pearsons. I did Hi Meral. Yes, I taught in Kozan orta okul in 1965–67. Tell so, although my wife was panicked to see me go. Again, no me about yourself please. luck, but by the time the helicopter landed, the Pearsons had Hi My Dearest Teacher, I am so happy. Thank you. I was been found. We were told that they had gotten lost at the top your neighbor very close to your home. My father was your of the lift in the blizzard and wound up walking down the student too in your evening class for adults. His was an agri- wrong side of Uludağ. They apparently figured that if they culture officer, Durmus Sasoglu. I attended to that class with kept walking down, they would eventually either find their my father very short time too. Maybe you can remember or way out or reach a stream that they could follow. At the end, not, you with your husband visited to our family at home. We Dennis was carrying Marcia, even after she died. There was have loved all family. Last year, Cemal mentioned about your burnt currency in the area because Dennis had tried to start a visiting to Kozan again. fire with it. When they were found, Dennis was barely alive, Dear Meral, I do remember you and visiting your family. I and he died almost immediately thereafter, as if he was hold- wish we had seen you when we were in Kozan two years ago. ing on until he and Marcia could be found. His feet, which Do you live in Kozan? Are you a doctor? Do you have children? had gotten soaked in the stream, were frozen. Your English is very good! I miss Turkey and especially our It was Ramadan, and the French teacher, who also died on Kozan friends. We hope we can come visit again. It is difficult the mountain, was, as a Turk, fasting. When he was found, it now because of all the politics in both the U.S. and in Turkey. appeared that after getting lost, he had become exhausted and My Dearest Teacher, I wish we had seen in Kozan. But I am had gone to sleep in the snow. living in Istanbul. My parents are with me now. Thank you, my Gloria recalls that sometime later we returned to the resort language is not perfect but I am trying. Yes, I am dermatolo- on Uludağ with some administrative official and did our best gist. Prof. on dermatology. Now I am working on R&D some to persuade the ski lift operators to focus more on safety rather problem in my lab at Bosphorus University. I have twin boys than just on profits. I don’t know if we succeeded. 36 y. married. I divorced more than 25 years ago. [Editors’ note: We all embarked on our Peace Corps adventure never We have never forgotten you. Because you did very good imagining that we might not come back. The fate of the Pearsons thing in our country. We saw your good treating to us we was was a tragedy that their families and those who knew them felt so little children. You invited to your home often with your most directly. Others who knew them only somewhat, like George kindness and love. Thank you. My parents say their greeting Wilson, or not at all, like the Blums, have carried memories of this to you and your husband too. Regards. unfortunate event for more than half a century. As painful as these Dear Meral, you are very kind and bring tears to my eyes. remembrances may be to read, we think they are worth sharing We loved teaching you and all the children in Kozan. The among those who had the experience of being in the Peace Corps in Turkey with people like Dennis and Marcia Pearson.] people of Kozan were so good to us, especially our neighbors. Please do not cry my teacher, because you are very nice people gave us very good things. These are not seen by eyes Kilim Exhibition in D.C. but effected our mind. Please pride yourself. Thank you for everything. here will be an exhibition at the Textile Museum in Washington, D.C., around the time of our D.C. Cum- huriyetT Bayram dinner: “A Nomad’s Art: Kilims of Anatolia”; September 1–December 23, 2018. Woven by women to adorn tents and camel caravans, kilims are enduring records of life in In Memoriam Turkey’s nomadic communities, as well as stunning examples James Borton, T-1, July 8, 2017 of abstract art. This exhibition marks the public debut of trea- Ginny Olds Goshdigian, T-2, May 20, 2018 sures from the Textile Museum’s Murad Megalli collection Gerald Karey, T-8, July 2, 2018 of Anatolian kilims dating to the eighteenth and nineteenth Edward Klinger, T-13, July 10, 2018 centuries. The George Washington University Museum and the Barbara Bailey, T-9, September 1, 2018 Textile Museum; 701 21st St., NW, Washington, D.C. 20052; 202-994-5200; museum.gwu.edu/kilims. 3 Among the Turks Antalya Holiday by Warren Pritchard, T-1 by Jill Diskan, T-4 ike many of us, my time as an American among the Turks remember this day as if it were yesterday. And, I am not the in the 1960s was an enduring influence on the course of I only one. Everyone who experienced this day remembers it myL life. The toughest job I ever loved, however, was not the as a highlight of our two years. years I spent as a PCV. Rather, it was the two years that followed It was Cumhuriyet Bayramı and it was going to be our first when I was hired as a staff member. At once I avoided a return trip away from our site, Afyon, since arriving in September. to the U.S. and was relieved to postpone a grown-up decision Somehow we got word that everyone was gathering at Marilyn about what to do with my life. Larger inheritances included a and Beth’s in Antalya. career, the love of a wondrous cuisine, and the acquaintance of First there was the adventure of getting there—the wonder of several hundred valued new friends, PCVs and Turks. seeing green trees and beautiful blue water after the aridness of I had a big blue Jeep that flew over the mostly dirt roads of six weeks on the Anatolian Plateau. Finally and most impor- my territory, the southwest quadrant of Anadolu. My job was tantly, there was the giddy excitement of seeing all our friends to visit and get to know a couple of hundred PCVs located from our training group, sharing our experiences, and sleeping in towns from Balıkesir to Afyon, Antalya to İzmir, and ev- in sleeping bags on the roof of Marilyn and Beth’s house. erywhere in between, including the seaside gems of Bodrum, After spending a day on the beach in Antalya, the next day Marmaris, Fethiye, and Alanya. we rose at dawn, packed a huge picnic lunch, and were off to I went to the volunteers’ schools, met with their supervisors, rent a boat, more like a caique, to take us (we were about 20 as called on the vilayet eğitim officials, sometimes kaymakams I recall) to a cove about fours hours from the harbor at Anta- and valis, and addressed any professional or personal problems lya—and inaccessible by land. Four hours later, we jumped in that came up. the azure water and splashed ashore. We swam, explored the The new Peace Corps director who became my boss was cove, discovered ruins (who knows from what particular era David Berlew. He came from academic positions in the psy- of history, although probably Roman), ate our picnic, dozed chology departments of Harvard and MIT. His accounts of on the sandy beach. Reluctantly, we boarded the boat for the early research with colleagues and spouses experimenting four-hour ride back to Antalya. It was twilight. Soon we were with LSD and its effect on their relationships were fascinating. nestled between the dark sea alive with phosphorescent fish Timothy Leary had been a colleague. Berlew also had been and the moonlit sky. It was magical: moonlight on the water involved in organizational psychology with small experiential guiding our way, the sound of the water gently lapping against T-Groups (sensitivity groups). our chariot, the wonder of the star-filled sky, the smell of the The staff job and the influence of mentors like Berlew re- sea, the voices of my friends talking, laughing, singing, feeling vived an interest I had had in psychology since high school. connected to the earth, the world, my friends. Utter content- Encountering the problems of PCVs—the effects of isolation ment. Remember this moment. and loneliness, depression and homesickness, insufficient or overwhelming work, and relationships with uncertain rules and unexpected twists—fueled my interest in psychotherapy. Back in the U.S., I secured the credentials that enabled me to practice over the next 25 years in a very satisfying career that grew out of experiences in small towns of Anadolu.

4 RPCV and Turkish Nobel Laureate Join Hands: the Sancar Foundation’s Efforts to Further U.S.-Turkish Cultural Understanding by Jordan Scepanski, T-4 s the Peace Corps was reaching its zenith in Turkey in the of new cancer treatments.” Among Dr. Sancar’s guests at the mid- to late sixties, a young student from Savur, in Mar- Nobel Award ceremony in Stockholm was his cherished god- dinA vilayet, successfully competed for enrollment in İstanbul child, a young woman who would go on to serve as a Peace University’s School of Medicine. While studying for his MD Corps Volunteer in Georgia. degree, Aziz Sancar decided knowledge of English would Achieving worldwide recognition, Aziz Bey became a ce- serve a practicing physician well, especially one interested in lebrity in his adopted state and in his native country, and a role research. He heard courses were being offered at the American model for fledgling scientists everywhere, most especially those consulate, and it was there, he said, that he encountered three in Turkic-speaking nations. He and Gwen decided they now had Peace Corps Volunteers who gave him his introduction to the opportunity to launch a more ambitious endeavor by creating English language. The newly-minted Dr. Sancar returned to a Turkish cultural center and residence unlike anything found southeastern Turkey for a couple of years, but a compelling elsewhere. While centers of Turkish culture, history, and lan- interest in DNA repair took him to the University of Texas guage exist in a number of countries, they usually are associated at Dallas, where Dr. Claud Stanley Rupert, who had founded with and funded by governmental or religious organizations, or the field, was resident. In 1975, working as one of Rupert’s are university entities. The Sancars’ vision encompasses their graduate students, Aziz Bey cloned the gene that encodes the initial effort to help visiting Turkish scholars in their transi- repair enzyme photolyase, putting him among the very first tion to the U.S. by markedly expanding housing units in a new scientists in the U.S. to clone any gene. This work led to his residence facility, but now also includes a building focusing earning a PhD in molecular and cell biology in 1977. on community and cultural activities. The enterprise is being It was at UT-Dallas where Aziz met his future spouse, Gwen- funded by the Sancars and through donations from Turks, dolyn Boles, a native of Waco, Texas, and a fellow biochemist, Turkish-Americans, and individuals and businesses with inter- whose work focused on DNA replication. They married in est in furthering American-Turkish relations. A seven-member 1978 and became post-doctoral fellows at Yale University. board of directors made up of academics, businessmen, and In 1982 both joined the Department of Biochemistry and professionals guides the foundation and planning for the Sancar Biophysics at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Turkish Cultural and Community Center. beginning a life-long association with the Tar Heel State. Following purchase by the foundation of a pair of wooded Recalling his initial experiences as a young expatriate in a lots on Chapel Hill’s main thoroughfare, the town’s governing strange country and the difficulties of adjusting to a new and council enthusiastically embraced the cultural center concept different culture, Aziz considered how he might ease the way and approved construction of the two facilities on the property. of others in similar circumstances. As his career progressed, Groundbreaking for state-of-the-art, sustainable, green-design and with notable professional recognition coming his way, structures is expected in late summer, with completion antici- he found the wherewithal to implement a long-held dream of pated in about fifteen months. The Arkadaşlar community assisting young Turkish scholars studying and doing research is invited to follow development of this exciting chapter in in the U.S. Following receipt of a distinguished award from American-Turkish affairs. Further information can be found Turkey’s Koç Foundation in 2007, he and Gwen established at www.sancar.org. the not-for-profit Aziz and Gwen Sancar Foundation that pur- chased property near the UNC-Chapel Hill campus. There, a Carolina Türk Evi now houses and supports visiting Turkish scholars and students. Over the years Carolina Arkadaşlar members have participated in events at the house. In 2015 Aziz Sancar, the Sarah Graham Kenan Professor of Biochemistry and Biophysics at UNC-CH, was named co- recipient of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry, only the second individual at the university to achieve such an honor and the second person of Turkish origin anywhere to be awarded the prize. In its press release announcing the award, the Nobel committee wrote: “Aziz Sancar has mapped nucleotide exci- sion repair, the mechanism that cells use to repair UV damage to DNA…[providing] fundamental insights into how cells Aziz Sancar and Jordan; Jordan joined the board of directors of function, knowledge that can be used…in the development the Aziz and Gwen Sancar Foundation in January of this year.

5 Small World Memories of Turkey by David Hopkins, T-1 Joanne and Danny White, T-4 pending two years abroad—especially the first time ost of the memories Danny and I have of Turkey are abroad—is sure to have a strong influence on a person, any quite specific times and places and people, both Turks person,S as it did on me. The strange landscape, the strange aro- andM PCVs. One theme that infuses many of our memories of mas, the strange dress, the strange language and newspapers Turkey is the contrast between old and new, so we are including (and, I presume, the strange a memory from Peace Corps Training in Portland—definitely websites), the strange food, old now—that everyone might relate to: Remember the Turk- the strange culture...all com- ish songs we learned? One of them, Kâtibim, I can still sing bine to provide a shock to the in Turkish, at least part of it! And I’m sure many of you can system that at the very least sing the whole song. Although I don’t have it written down takes months to get over, and anywhere in Turkish, I do have the English translation from likely marks one for life. an old dittoed paper. But, as I sit here some 54 years later, what comes to Kâtibim (My Secretary) my mind most readily as I While going to Üsküdar a rain started. think of our experience is My secretary’s coat is long, its tails something else. mud-stained. In 1962 Turkey was, first, My secretary has just waked up, his eyes are drowsy. something we had on the table at Thanksgiving and, second, a really bad performance by the football team, and, way last, My secretary is mine, I am my secre- tary’s, why should people care? a country far off on the other side of the world somewhere, A starched shirt is so becoming to a place that showed up on a world map but no place we ever my secretary. paid attention to. The most notable reference in my experience While going to Üsküdar I found a then was the musical question of whether to say Istanbul or handkerchief. Constantinople. I filled my handkerchief with Turkish Knowing almost nothing about the place (and not having a Delight. lot of choices from the Peace Corps) I chose to go there pre- Looking for my secretary I found him at my side. cisely because it was so otherworldly, so remote from anything My secretary is mine, I am my secretary’s, why should people care? I was familiar with. (And get paid something to do that.) A starched shirt is so becoming to my secretary. Since then, of course, things have changed. A lot. Americans, When we returned home from Turkey, we brought a copper- from the Peace Corps and especially from the military, came covered photo album with “My Secretary” on it, and looking back from there, and Turkish military came here to train. Turks at that album always brings back the feel of Turkey. from Germany (and, later, Germans of Turkish descent) came here to visit, or stay. As Turkey turned more towards America from Europe (certain interludes notwithstanding), more Turks came here to tour, to attend college, to stay and live. Americans began traveling to that other Riviera on the Mediterranean. Turkish restaurants abound here. Seventeen Turks are or have been on National Basketball Association teams. I had dinner recently with a Turkish doctor who is practicing at a country hospital just up the road, and lives here in Connecticut with his family. A liquor store nearby is run by a German Turk (who stocks Yeni Rakı). As the Arkadaşlar list-serv demonstrates, it is hard to get through a day without seeing a news or feature story about Turkey. Turkey is, in short, not strange. Not remote. Not exotic. Turkey is “just around the corner” in our sensibility. Maybe Turkmenistan is still strange. Timbuktu still stands for the A favorite picture from the faded snaps in our photo album remote and exotic. But such places are rare these days. As shows peasant women on their donkeys on the streets of Turkey, and our experience, has demonstrated, it’s a small Ankara, with the Parliament Building, then quite new, in the world now. background.

6 Cultural Encounters in Adapazarı by Dora Nadolski, T-1 n 1962, Elise Laurin, Marjeanne Tehven, and Dora Nad- from the makeshift oven, and sat down at our humble table to olski, all T-1, served as Peace Corps teachers in Adapaz- enjoy a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. ari.I Dora has these memories of some of their intercultural The Emergence of Modern Turkey, by Bernard Lewis, was adventures. brought to life at a village wedding we attended in the spring One of the first amusing incidents occurred in October of of 1963. As we entered the village, we were greeted by women 1962, with my attempt to purchase a coat. We had not received grinding walnuts in preparation for çerkez tavuğu, the tradi- our luggage, and we needed warm clothing, as the weather tional dish served at Turkish weddings. After the ceremony, at was becoming progressively cooler. Armed with my textbook the bride’s home, we went outside for entertainment provided Turkish and dictionary, I went to a local clothing store where by saz players and men sitting on the ground beating on planks the only coat long enough was a vivid purple, the color for a of wood. Suddenly, roars and cheers erupted when the bloody çöpçatan (match-maker). The local people were amused by the sheet was thrown from the second floor window. Behold, we sight of a foreign teacher in match-making attire! Nevertheless, had witnessed the reality of a few pages from Lewis’s book! I began match-making in the advanced English conversation Our teaching and cultural encounters were life-changing night class I was teaching. Our Turkish English teacher from experiences that will forever be a significant part of our lives. the lise, where all of us were teaching, was in my night class when she noticed an Army general who interested her. Elise, Marjeanne, and I decided to invite them to a get-acquainted dinner at a local restaurant. After dinners at various restau- rants, we were encouraged by our efforts, until the general announced that he would be reassigned to another province. Alas, my match-making career was ended when the general left for his new assignment. Another amusing cultural encounter occurred with our at- tempt to purchase one of the turkeys from the landlord’s back yard for our Thanksgiving dinner. Soon, the landlord’s grand- son appeared at our door for assistance with his “Gatenby” Elise and Marjeanne in İstanbul text in one hand and a live turkey under the other arm. Our communication attempts with the landlord to explain why we wanted a turkey had utterly failed. We returned the turkey and Changing Directions again tried to explain that we wanted the head removed. The fol- by Nan Borton, T-1 lowing day, the landlord’s grandson came to our door, proudly holding the headless turkey. After thanking our landlord for the turkey, Marjeanne began a scalding process to remove the feathers, and I removed the internal parts while Elise concocted a chestnut dressing. Eight hours later, we removed the turkey

n 1962, I joined Peace Corps’ Turkey 1 group, as a nice break between college and a PhD in historical linguistics. MyI career plan was to teach at university level. In 2006, I retired from a wonderful, fulfilling 44-year career in international disaster and humanitarian assistance, much Carolyn Holm, Dora, and Joan Hammer Grant (all T-1) with of it living abroad. students in Balıkesir I do not need more words than that. 7 For Most, It’s an Apricot; Turkey Reminiscence For Me, It Is, Forever, a Kayısı by Kathy Markley Scruggs, T-2 by Jim Freeman, T-15 t was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” n act of kindness—of 50 years ago—still resonates. It’s IDickens’ words could summarize different periods of my a warm summer’s afternoon in July, 1968. I’m walking time teaching in Bandırma and Ankara from 1963 to 1965. withA Kathy Waljeski, Hyacinth Kozlowski, and Dick Janzig With 55 years of hindsight, I’d say those years were mostly along a dusty street in the town of Divriği. I’m a bit thirsty a time of hope. But, there was my shame in PC telling me to and hungry, for we are walking through town after having leave Bandırma abruptly, and now the recent events twisting explored the Ulu Cami, a Seljuk-era (13th century) mosque, into a time of despair for Turkey and its people. with its absolutely fascinating architecture. Teaching English became my fulfilling life’s work despite As we walk along the roadway through town we become the challenges of those first years: phonetic script and Gatenby! somewhat separated but always accompanied by a crowd of Turkish music grew on me. The food at Gazi Eğitim Enstitüsü curious and friendly onlookers. Drawing a crowd of curious in our first days in country was awful, but I quickly learned bystanders has been standard on our trip as we, two men and to love Turkish cooking. All the desserts were wonderful, two women, travel via bus (always crowded) and train (3rd class, especially aşure. I gained 25 pounds in the first four months. overnight) across Anatolia from Ankara, making our way East İstanbul was glorious. Ginny Olds Goshdigian and I first to Erzurum, Kars, and our main travel destination of Ani. arrived there by overnight boat from Bandırma. I never saw A young girl comes out of the crowd toward me. With a much east of Ankara, except for Antalya, but I thrilled to all smiling and uncovered face, she offers from within her out- the historic sites I saw in the west. stretched apron what to me is a strange looking “something There were oodles of misunderstandings, linguistic and cul- or other.” She accompanies her offering with the repeated tural; digestive difficulties; dengue fever; an emergency root word—“kayısı, kayısı.” canal; but the strong desire for cross-cultural communication Being from Eastern Montana (Glendive, in particular), I and the good memories triumphed. have no idea what she is offering; apparently it’s some type My first trip back was just for a few days nine years later with of ripe fruit. For a Montanan such as me, fruit comes from a spouse and two young children enroute home from Cameroon. can. “Kayısı,” she repeats to the “yabancı” in front of her. I surprised myself being able to bargain in the bazaar and how Tentatively, I accept the young girl’s kind offer with happy I felt to be there. “Teşekkür ederim,” and take a bite. Wow, a wondrous taste treat! The fruit’s sweet juice with its accompanying tender skin easily overcomes my initial hesitation. I immediately accept an- other—stuffing it in my mouth, letting its juice dribble through my moustache and down my chin. Absolutely delicious! Only later do I learn, probably from Kathy, that what this Eastern Montanan received was an apricot, undoubtedly picked earlier that day by the young girl. This act of kindness, this sharing of the young girl’s bounty, still resonates with me. Yes, it was, only an apricot; but for me, it will remain, forever, a kayısı.

Kathy with Hacettepe nursing students, 1965

Hyacinth and Kathy in Divriği, photo by Dick Janzig 8 bulgur—and call these dishes (pronounced correctly, I’m proud What Being a Peace Corps Volunteer in to say) by their Turkish names. And, to the young ones I’m Turkey Has Meant to Me Baba Bill, not Grand Pa or any variant thereof. Summing up, the PC experience (including travel on holi- by Bill Barnes, T-2 days) enabled me to thrive, mature, become stronger in myself very aspect of my life has been affected, all my identities in several different environments. “Your experiences extended and labels. you, enabled you to participate in any situation,” says Sylvia. ENationality: My PC experience enabled me to accept “You’ve never felt inadequate in any situation. And you’ve becoming an Australian and a U.S. citizen, and part of me never met a stranger. You can talk to anyone. You always say, feels Turkish as well. ‘I lived in Turkey for three years; I went there as a Peace Corps Bi-lingual: Actually, I’m not fluent enough to call my- Volunteer.’ ” self truly bi-lingual. “But what happens every time you hear Turkish?” my wife Sylvia points out. “You can’t resist speak- ing. What about Prague [a Turk helped us find the Reform synagogue] or Dunedin [on New Zealand’s South Island]? You found a Turkish cafe owner and wound up at the table with him and his wife, all speaking Turkish.” TEACHER, WRITER, EDITOR: For most of my profes- sional life I have been a teacher, and proud of it. Becoming this wasn’t easy. My older brother, later an engineer, never tired of quoting George B. Shaw: “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach” till he married a teacher and had to shut up. When we arrived in South Australia in 1974 I sought work as either a journalist (my first degree was Bachelor of Journal- ism) or teacher and landed a job doing both: teaching writing and text editing to first-year university students. Several years earlier the state government had decided to stop teaching Not in Winslow, Arizona, (or Kansas) any more...Kathy grammar in its schools. Imagine trying to make print journal- Waljeski, Hyacinth Kozlowski, and Jim Freeman (Dick Janzig ists of students with no notion of grammar, punctuation, or photo) spelling rules. I coped by adapting the 1-2-3 English sentence explanation system nine other PCVs and I had invented in 1964 to assist in teaching Gatenby. This enabled me to teach basic reporting and feature story writing while pointing out needed punctuation, word order changes, etc. to each individual in a limited one-semester timeframe and to enable students to apply these techniques to their fellow students’ writing in the second semester. Over the years I have used this enabling teaching-writing- editing approach from grade 7 through university. Most stu- dents are learning English as another language. I’ve taught workers from Asia and Europe in our factories and I’ve taught experienced engineers and other professionals from Asia and Europe (including Russia, Yugoslavia, Poland, and Hungary) in our universities. In every instance but especially with adults, my goal is for each student to become independent, able to achieve happiness and success using their own knowledge and Howard Leshtz (right) sends this photo of him and Joe Stork skills. (both T-4s) on the SS Tari, a Turkish freighter, sailing from I’ve also been lucky enough to find time for my own efforts. İstanbul to Samsun on their way to Tokat in August, 1966. I’ve had modest success getting some fiction and non-fiction “We were accompanied by Bob Dankoff, Jamie Gerson, Tom published and occasionally worked part-time in newspaper Demers, Joyce Davis, Carol Pittard Siller, Madeline Paul editing. Killeen, Marcia Bordman, and probably some others who were FOOD LOVER: In Turkey I learned to like both yoğurt going to the northeast. The thing I remember most about this and vegetables. My family, including grandkids, regularly journey to our first assignments was the rough water the first eat cacık, etli kapuska, köfte, şiş kebap, and pilav, including night and most of us getting sick, myself included.”

9 My Best Friend in the World by Pat Anderson, T-16 The only way to have a friend is to be one ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson arly in our first year in the Peace Corps in Fatsa, Turkey, take off from my job. He said “Please, how many chances one evening a man from Ordu, a town a little farther east do we have to spend time together?” I said he was absolutely onE the Black Sea, knocked on our door. He introduced himself right. I told my partners I would be gone for a few days. We as Can Gürel, the owner of a tutoring business. He apologized bought airline tickets for L.A. and left on an impulse to spend profusely for intruding, but he hoped we wouldn’t mind. He time with our friends from Turkey. was trying to teach himself English, and was hoping we could We had a fabulous time! We had dinner on the Queen read some sentences from his textbook, English 900, into his Mary in Long Beach. Can’s travel agent in Turkey had booked tape recorder so he could hear how the words were supposed him into a fleabag hotel in Hollywood. Can walked in, took to sound. We were very happy to read those sentences. That one look around, and said “We have to find someplace else!” was the start of our great friendship. Who knew Hollywood was a ghetto? We found a nice hotel Can soon invited us to his home in Ordu, where we met his somewhere else! Then down to Orange County for a day at wife, Nurcan, and one-year-old daughter, Diler. We toured Disneyland and Universal Studios. Then we said our goodbyes, Ordu, had dinner, and talked and laughed a lot. With our and went our separate ways. Turkish and Can’s English, we communicated just fine, even if About a month later, I was in the file room in my law of- sometimes we both had to resort to our Turkish-English pocket fice in Issaquah. The fax machine started receiving a fax, dictionaries. Patty and I socialized with Can and Nurcan a and I smiled when I saw the Akad company letterhead start lot while we were in Fatsa, and the four of us became good to emerge from the machine. When it was done, I was still friends. After we moved to Konya for our second year, we smiling, thinking about what Can might have to say after our continued our friendship through regularly exchanging letters. great trip to California together. Can became a Peace Corps Turkish language instructor for Instead, the letter said, “We regret to have to tell you, your the group that followed ours. That group was the last group good friend Can Gürel has had a heart attack and died.” Diler that went to Turkey, and it stayed less than a year. later wrote us a letter with more detail. Can was in Ankara When we returned we landed jobs teaching English as a sec- to give a speech, did not feel well, sat down, and then simply ond language in Camden, New Jersey. That very first year we fell over dead. He was 55. Diler was devastated. She wrote, were back, Can, Nurcan, and Diler visited us in New Jersey. We “He was my father, my best friend, my everything.” did all the sights and had a wonderful time, although somebody Diler took over as the CEO of Akad. Our son Barrett visited had told Nurcan that the two “must-see” American cities were Diler in İstanbul when he and his girlfriend (now wife) Laurie Pittsburgh and Baltimore! We chose to tour Philadelphia and took an extended trip through the Middle East and Eastern Washington, D.C., and I think Nurcan was quite put out. We Europe in 2003. We have written several letters, but we have did point out Baltimore as we drove by though! really lost touch with Diler. One day we hope to go back to Can was a very ambitious man, always seeking to learn more Turkey, and we will look her up for sure. and better himself. Again he asked a favor that we were glad I choke up every time I tell this story. Even now (I wrote to help fulfill. He had been accepted to the MBA program this in 2009) my eyes are welling up with tears as I type. I at the University of Michigan and needed a U.S. sponsor for look back and thank the heavens that I took that last trip to his visa. My parents met the qualifications and were glad to California with Can. I can’t imagine how I would have felt sponsor him. Can got his degree, bought a car, loaded it with if I had decided not to go and then learned of his death. Can U.S. goods, and had it shipped back to Turkey. was truly my best friend in the world. Can became a very successful businessman in İstanbul. He was the founder of Akad, a company that imported medical instruments from Germany and distributed them in Turkey. Can and Nurcan had a house in İstanbul and a summer home on the Marmara Sea. All through the years we kept in touch with letters: news of the kids, careers, family pictures. Can came to visit us in Fall City in 1991. He was alone on a business trip, and he said he could not come to the U.S. without seeing us. In 1993, Can and Diler visited us in Fall City. Diler was now 25, and accompanying Can on another business trip. They were also going to California to see Disneyland. Can said “Please come with us!” I said that I couldn’t just drop everything and Nurcan, Patty, and Can, ca. 1968 10 Reconnected by Linda Scheffer, T-8

y story begins in 1999, when Arkadaşlar held a Reunion Since then, I have been back to Turkey six times to visit in Turkey. I, and my T-4 roommate, Angela Costanza Türkân and her family, and others who live there, as well as Warner,M and her husband, Owen, returned to our site, Karabük. see more of Turkey. Both families now live in Kastamonu, We went to the Demir Çelik Orta Okul ve Lisesi where we as well as Türkân’s other daughter, son-in-law, and grand- both taught English. There, we reunited with Türkân Tarhan, daughter, Ferda and Nedim Duman and Gökçen Sena. I have who also taught English there when we did. Türkân Hanım seen the grandchildren grow up over the years from young- was very happy to see us, as we to see her. We also met with sters to grown adults. All have graduated from university, or the current müdür, who was very hospitable, and thanked us are pursuing higher degrees. Saygın is 29, and works for the for teaching English at the school in the 60s. As a remem- government in Ankara, but now is doing his askerlik. Sadun is brance, he gave Angela and me a commemorative plate with 24 and pursuing his Doctorate at Trabzon University. Gökçen a picture of the school from 1954. Afterwards, Türkân invited Sena is 23, and works in Ankara as a translator, while at the us to her home. same time, pursuing a Masters to become a journalist and announcer. I did not become a teacher after leaving the Peace Corps, but I consider myself very fortunate that I served in Turkey. It is such a beautiful, historical country, with wonderful cuisine and friendly people. I hope to go back to Turkey in the near future to continue my visits with Türkân and her family.

Linda and a student, Yasemin, in Karabük, 1967

There, we met her husband, Birol, their daughter and son- Melissa Stewart, T-2, Sadun, Linda, Berna, Saygın, and (stand- in-law, Berna and Birol Karabıyık, and grandsons, Saygın ing) Birol, in Karabük, 2000 and Sadun. Berna followed in her mother’s footsteps, and also became an English teacher. We chatted for quite awhile catch- ing up on each other’s lives, and promising to stay in touch. The next day, Angela, Owen, and I went to the T.E.D. Karabük Koleji, where Berna taught. We met her müdür and several of the teachers, were treated to lunch, and were given a tour of the school, which was all state-of-the-art! Angela, Owen, and I went to several of the classrooms and asked the students questions in English and they, in turn, asked us questions in English. It was very enjoyable and their English was quite good. Obviously, they did not use the Gatenby books from which we had to teach! An amusing incident happened as we were drinking çay with some of the teachers, and Owen, a New Zealander, mentioned that he drank tea with milk. So they got some milk for Owen and he put it in his tea. One of the Turks decided that he would try In front, Sadun, Gökçen Sena, Saygın, Türkân, and Birol; in it, too. Needless to say, he was not impressed with it, and went back, Ferda, Berna, and Birol, in Karabük, 2005, on the oc- back to drinking normal çay. casion of Saygın’s graduation from Karabük Koleji

11 Friendships 56 Years Young! Arrival in Akhisar (Ali Tiralioğlu) by Peggy Hanson, T-1 by Eugene Blanchard, T-4 n 1962 we didn’t know each other. Then we went to Turkey. om Stubbs and I arrived at the Akhisar bus terminal to This May, George came from Austria and Australia, Joan begin our Peace Corps teaching assignments one late andI Nan traveled from Maine. Steve got on a plane in Califor- afternoonT in September 1964. All we knew was that John nia. Warren made the journey from Georgia. One of our Daves Gallivan and Rick Ash had taught there the year before, but came from Connecticut, Dora from Missouri. We missed the not whether they were still in town or had gone off to their other Warren from Costa Rica, Nina from Arkansas (the mayor new assignments. We began to accost people with the ques- of her town), Jean from Canada. We missed Jim and Tom and tion (in shaky Turkish): Do you know where the American a few others with whom we have lost touch. teachers live? It was not long before a police jeep roared up And we missed the many friends who can no longer even and we were asked to explain ourselves. After a brief, halting be urged to come to reunions. We were 39 people in 1962. conversation, we were told to jump in the jeep with our lug- Now we are 25. And that’s one of the reasons to get together gage, and off we sped down the street, stopping every block or as often as we can. so while the police questioned passersby, presumably for the Dave Amca was, and is, seven years older than the rest of whereabouts of the Americans. After a bit, the jeep pulled up us. He went through the throes of introducing Americans to to a restaurant and we were directed to go inside. Rather than Turkey right along with our little band of naïve, idealistic, John or Rick, we were met by a disreputable-looking elderly wide-eyed pioneers back then. Arkadaşlar counts him as a Turk who boomed out (in perfect English) “Hello boys!” He leader and a founder; Turkey 1 calls him one of our own. Also, was Ali Tiralioğlu. We later learned that, as the son of the a few of us live here. So Washington was the logical place to wealthy, land-owning mayor, he had attended an English gather, so we could include Dave. language lise in İzmir, but in later years fell into alcoholism. Most out-of-towners stayed at the Oakwood Apartments Nonetheless, he was able to inform us that John and Rick were in Falls Church, with shuttles to the metro and reasonable being feted by their friends and colleagues at that very moment distances to both Allan and Peggy’s houses, where two of at another restaurant at the edge of town, while they waited the dinners were held. Atilla’s and Kazan’s hosted the other for the bus to Ankara and beyond. The police transported us two dinners. A highlight of the reunion was a tour of the there, and we were invited to join the party. Soon the bus came; African-American museum, courtesy of Warren Pritchard John and Rick took their leave amid cries of good wishes; and Representative John Lewis. (They had worked together and the party continued. Eventually, one of their friends, who for voter registration in Georgia in the ‘60s!) then befriended us, escorted us to their former residence and There is no bringing back the past. There is no magic pill to negotiated with the landlord for us to continue to reside there. make us young again. In 2010, when we turned 70, we traveled Over the next two years we saw a lot of Ali. We visited his together to eastern Turkey. In 2020, when most of our group village and he arranged for us to ride a camel. We shared many turns 80, we plan another reunion, this time in California, meals and excursions, but I never saw him consume anything planned and hosted by Steve Allen. more than rakı and an occasional slice of apple. He spoke Turkey 1 urges you to get your group together. Each group’s excellent English, but with an idiomatic style reminiscent of shared experience is unique. As Dave Amca always reminds the 1920s. us, “Onward!” In the spring of 1966, Ali had an argument with his brother- in-law. He walked into the brother-in-law’s office and shot him dead. He was jailed in town, but later transferred to a mental institution in Manisa. Tom Stubbs visited him there and left Ali his overcoat. I visited him shortly before leaving the country, and he pleaded with me to do something to stop the electric shock treatments he was being given. What could I do? I was a foreigner who didn’t know anything about the institution, the laws or legal procedures under which he was being held, or his future prospects, although they looked grim in the extreme. After two years in Turkey, I acquired a life-long fascina- tion with the Turks and Turkey, but there were and are a lot of things I didn’t understand about the people or the country, Back row: Mike Jewell, Nan Borton, Peggy (Gall) Hanson, Dave Hopkins, about why I was there, and what possible impact I might have Dora Glidewell Nadolski, Warren Pritchard, Steve Allen, George Park, had, for good or ill. Dave Kunkel; front row: Allan Gall, Joan Hammer Grant, Dave Weinman 12 The Thrace Village PC Week by Doug Shifflet, T-5 he week in 1963 that will live in joy and infamy began with the interview of a special village elder who had livedT through two world wars. That Monday night, through hours by candlelight, he explained how they had twice hidden their valuables in the village wells when the Greeks came and slaughtered men, women, and children in the mosque. I listened with my gut “wrenched” and hoped my tape recorder was getting it all. The next day was to have been a day of celebration with a gypsy band, with the entire village being fed by Ramzi Bey’s wife as his boys were circumcised. Everyone was happy except the boys, aged three, seven, and ten, whose reactions Freud well explained. Unfortunately, I was to be the honored guest, seated next to the Sünnetci with his small clamp and large razor blade. That festival morning began with ominous dark clouds and a cold wind, portending multiple levels of misery in the offing. It was into that that kind of day that İsmet, my best friend Mehmet’s son, ran to me exclaiming, “Come, Döglas Bey, hurry, sickness and death are upon us!” It was terrible to find this family I loved so distraught. Doug and helper work on a project in Ceylanköy Mehmet struggled for control, fists tight, as his son hid behind him and his wife watched from the house. He said, “I trusted The rest of that week Mehmet avoided me, but later that you and you have ruined us!” week İsmet came by. He had a shy smile on his face. I asked “How can that be,” I said, “only two days ago you told me all him if the chickens had died. He shook his head and kept his was good, and you showed me that huge egg!” Guilt suddenly small smile. So, I asked him what was going on? He said he took my mind back to coffee-house tales of my South Dakota had separated the sick chickens and now they were up and Uncle Remus, who became wealthier than the local Ağa by walking. Thrilled, I shook his hand and said how brave and raising chickens scientifically and selling good eggs at high smart he was, then asked how the other chickens were doing. prices, especially at Bayram time when supplies were even “They’re all well,” and with a big grin he added, “and they are lower than usual. And how bad I said it was to let chickens giving good eggs every day.” Major hugs followed, making me run wild eating whatever and laying a periodic egg wherever, feel better than I had in a year and thinking, “It’s all worth it.” and insisting that he buy good hens, feed them well and fence Over time Mehmet decided I didn’t have the evil eye, and his yard. And how he had followed my advice. on leaving-day, friends came out in the rain to say goodbye. “You promised success and now we will have nothing,” he Mehmet and İsmet came forward, saying “The rain is God’s exclaimed, pulling me over to a chicken slowly twitching in the tears. He knows we cry that you leave.” Warm cheek kisses dust. Sadly, I asked if he knew what happened. He said İsmet had on wet faces lasted until the last dolmuş took me away. found him and that it was a bad omen showing Allah’s displeasure. I asked how, with our friendship, it could be my fault? “You must have the Infidel’s Evil Eye,” he whispered, his face in mine, evil eye beads running through his fingers. Then, turning his back on me, he walked away. I called after him, saying he couldn’t just give up now, and to remember how we saved the water buffalo using science. “It’s too late,” he said. “It is God’s will.” As his father walked away, İsmet looked up at me not with fear, but disturbed interest. I squatted down saying, “You know I don’t have the evil eye and you need to save your family. You must separate any sick ones from the others now and feed them carefully.” I said I would help. He looked me in the eye, then turned and walked after his father. Perhaps nobody told Pat Anderson (T-16) that camels spit. 13 A Turkey-12 Peace Corps Wedding by Cathy and Ron McCutcheon budding romance began September 1, 1965, at the Port- of their signatures. These forms were submitted to Tuna bey land State University site of Peace Corps training for on February 25th. Now all that remained was to obtain the TurkeyA 12. Early PCV arrivals to our training site decided to certificate of health, wait at least fifteen days, and have the walk to Mt. Tabor for an outdoor Shakespeare performance, brief ceremony with our chosen şahits—Ron’s elderly neighbor, but the distance exceeded our limits, and we hailed two taxis Rasit bey, and my Dr. Naim bey. The date was set for March to deliver and pick us up. That is how we first met. 19th for our nikâh in Eyüp. There were trials and a training extension for T-12 before Two weeks later, April 2nd, the church ceremony was held we ever arrived in Turkey, with the collapse of our original at the Union Church on the grounds of the Dutch Consulate. It community development program in about November ’65. The was the Bayram holiday weekend, which permitted T-12s travel group was re-trained and finally departed in early January. time to join in the festivities. The wedding party was multi- None were surprised when we announced our engagement to racial and multi-religious—all were T-12s. Ron expected to our Turkey 12 group. Planning for April 1966 nuptials would have his mustache shaved off at the rehearsal party by the guys conceivably draw us all together again in İstanbul. It did ma- but he did it himself on Saturday morning, to Cathy’s surprise. terialize with some unexpected twists. Roommates offered to provide the reception buffet and another Our original assignment together was to Tevfik Sağlam friend took movies and photos and tape-recorded the ceremony. Clinic in Rami, on the outskirts of İstanbul. Ron paired with The morning of the wedding, Cathy first stoked the fire in a Turkish worker in tuberculosis control; Cathy was matched the soba for a hot bath, visited the overcrowded hairdresser in with a young doctor giving baby immunizations. There were Rami, and at 12:30 a taxi picked up Cathy and Clare to pre- many other PCVs also assigned to the same clinic. Ayten pare at Margot Higgin’s (T-8) apartment in Taksim with their Sokak is where Cathy shared an apartment with three fellow gowns. (Cathy rented hers at Kapalı Çarşı for $15.00). When T-12 girls. Ron rented a basic apartment lacking electricity and the bouquets arrived they were unlike the order, but a quick fix water on the same street, next door to Clare and Bob Joplin, by Margot with table napkins, doilies, and ribbons remedied who would become our matron of honor and best man. Turks’ the problem—it was the first of many mix-ups that weekend. reaction that we did not cohabitate like “all” Americans do About 85 guests attended the cozy chapel, as beloved T-12 before their wedding astonished our new host-country friends. member Al Schlussel walked Cathy down the aisle. A voice Our bright 18-karat gold identical engagement/wedding rings on the tape from a child repeats “Bitti mi? Bitti mi?” A recep- were purchased at the Kapalı Çarşı for 137 TL, about $13.70 tion party followed at the manse, the church hall. Later, Rev. for both. We wore them on our right ring fingers until the day Radcliffe (soon to retire) declared it was the “most genuinely of the wedding. The formidable process of accomplishing two happy wedding he’d ever been a part of.” wedding ceremonies, civil and church, proved to be complex. The second unexpected twist was the five-layer wedding The Turkish legal ceremony required multiple steps. First, cake, ordered white but delivered chocolate! (We repeated we went to the American Consulate to get a statement that this choice 50 years later). The band claimed they knew our we were free to marry. The Eyüp evlendermenoğlu, Tuna bey, playlist but did not—they compensated with a bouquet of red head of Eyüp region, led us to local translators who failed us, roses. The reception was simple and lively, with music and then to the state doctor who refused to give us a statement of dancing and a happy mixture of Turks and Americans with health because we were Americans. Together we went to the Turkish circle dances, the hora, and then delightful impromptu low court, which refused to approve our marriage because Russian cossack solo dances by Rasit bey, which were a hit. they said they were not qualified, then on to the clinic where The honeymoon start was a disaster. Our first night at the Dr. Naim bey translated for us. Tuna bey called the consulate, Park Hotel almost did not occur. Our reservation, though con- and the high court ap- proved and verified that we could have the legal ceremony performed by him in Eyüp. Next we had to get the approval of the seven müdürs in Rami. Each signed each of our ten forms with their imzas. Our forms had photos, biographical April 2, 1966 April 2, 2016 information, and rows 14 firmed ahead twice, was denied, and an orchid corsage was missing. A bus boy delivered us to an occupied room where the suddenly awakened man sat up in bed and demanded, “Get out of my room.” We stumbled backward onto each other and the suitcase. At last, though it was fully booked with holiday travelers, we were given a two-bedroom penthouse suite over- looking the Bosphorus! On Sunday morning we entered the shuttle bus station for the airport and were told, “Your plane left two hours ago. The next one is Tuesday to Antalya.” Our tickets were mistakenly dated to the wintertime schedule. After dinner and a movie we checked into a cheaper hotel but leaped to the lügat lightning-quick as the hamamböceği (cock- roaches) scattered frantically from between our bedsheets. The manager offered a different room with identical delights but we refused. This forced us to return to our “girls” apart- ment on Ayten Sokak at midnight, greeted by Connie Lyons declaring, “You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon!” On Tuesday we caught our flight and began our future together. Patty Anderson (T-16) and students in Fatsa, ca. 1969

T-8s about to fly

15 A Dark and Stormy Night: Testing a Social Frontier in Traditional Rural Turkey by James Akre, T-10 aving just marked my twenty-second birthday, I arrived Between the woman’s veil and her gradually revealed in my village site in September 1966 equipped, like all blood-matted hair, it was impossible to see the extent of her PCVs,H with a relatively well-stocked and physically imposing wound or whether she had a still more serious skull injury. metal first-aid chest, which of course was intended for my And given all the blood she had lost, I was surprised that she personal use only. remained conscious. As the bleeding abated, I recovered a However, in a village of 1300 people at 870 m elevation, with measure of the self-awareness that had disappeared since ar- no electricity or water in homes, or any resident healthcare riving on the scene. Clearly, the formal rules of etiquette had provider, I soon had a regular stream of visitors to my rented been suspended. I had never seen the woman before and didn’t room in search of treatment for a wide variety of wounds, even know her name. I had no idea who her husband, father, or burns, cuts, abrasions, and the like. possible brothers were. But I was in charge by default since no I was also occasionally called to homes; for example in the one else had the least inkling about what to do in a situation winter of 1967, when, with two meters of snow on the ground, like the one playing out. a young man—a Gypsy I was told—put a deep gash in his foot After nearly an hour, seeing that the bleeding had stopped while chopping firewood near his modest but not daring to tamper with the multiple dwelling on the village periphery; or, late gauze pads already applied, I stressed the one summer’s eve, to a boy of nine with urgency of seeking additional care. That a gaping forehead wound requiring atten- translated into a treacherous trip to the city tion. 25 km away over a narrow, unpaved, and Only once during my two years in the very slippery road. With not a single car village did I minister to a female. Around in our village, someone had managed to 8 p.m. one ugly, windy and rainy evening hail a 4WD vehicle from the next village. in March 1968, the bekçi came banging on The woman (still no name) and I my door. He not so much asked as ordered were loaded into the back seat, where I me to bring my first-aid chest and follow cradled her head on my lap for the jar- him. He described a woman, on the other ring two-hour drive. Upon arrival at the side of the village, who was bleeding. hospital, she was taken in and I was left “Bleeding from where?” I asked hesitantly. alone. I learned the following day that she “From her scalp,” I was relieved (sort of) had been stitched up, with no anesthetic, to hear him respond. and sent home. We sloshed in silence through the viscous Three months later, the day before mud, making our way in the dark through leaving my village for keeps, very much by the howling wind and pouring rain to an un- Jim assists in building a chiken coop chance I saw the woman a last time while familiar house. During a quarrel, I learned out strolling with friends. We happened to later, a husband had struck his wife (aged perhaps 25) with a catch each other’s gaze for a few seconds while she stood awk- fire iron, wounding her scalp, from which she bled profusely. wardly in the doorway of a tiny general store. As I walked by, After removing my mud-caked boots, I made my way into she briefly looked in my direction and, without uttering a word, the rectangular main room where I found perhaps 20 men lined thanked me with her eyes. I departed the following morning, up against the walls, resting passively on their haunches, drink- and that was that. ing multiple glasses of fresh-brewed tea, and chain-smoking During two years in a village where I had regularly interact- their cheap state-monopoly cigarettes. ed with the mothers, wives, and sisters of male friends—always Meanwhile, in the center, the only female present was scru- in the presence of the males concerned, of course—this medi- pulously kneeling over a chipped enamel basin into which cal emergency was the most dramatic example of navigating she was bleeding. There was no chance to reflect, only react uncharted cultural waters. To this day, I remain unsure how (counterintuitively, based on my experience in the village until the way I reacted was interpreted. The challenge arose from a that very moment). I fell to the floor, literally leaping on the momentary lapse of protocol for which I had no preparation. woman, and laid her on her back with her head propped onto And though I spontaneously acted the only way I could have my lap. I applied sterile gauze pads, one after the other, to under the circumstances, I had no assurance that those around staunch the bleeding. (Where was that temple pressure point me would agree. But the woman survived, and finally that was I’d learned about in Scouts?) all that mattered.

16 Christmas in Salihli by Susan Haynes Özbek, T-4 t is December 1964 in western Turkey. Salihli, a small town a variety of containers. Splashing orange juice into a large surrounded by mountains, has become the home for Peace bowl and mixing in pomegranate juice and sour cherry juice, CorpsI volunteers Susan Haynes and Kathy Waljeski for the then punctuating it with lemon slices and raisins and sticks of next two years as teachers of English. Nearby is a dig site cinnamon, we hummed “We wish you a Merry Christmas.” populated with archeologists from Harvard and Columbia Kathy knew how to mix things up to make them delicious, University exploring the ruins of the once thriving civiliza- and I went along encouraging her to add more tastes. The local tion of Sardis. pastahane supplied us with a variety of tasty treats. Adjusting to the routines of teaching from an antiquated Our guests arrived filled with smiles and wonder. “What textbook titled Gatenby at the high school, finding food in will these girls manage?” was on their minds, but they wanted the open-air markets, and planning daily lessons has been a to make sure we could be happy doing something far from struggle, but after four months we have settled into our routines our roots. They found seats for themselves, kids on the floor, and all seems smooth. As the Christmas holidays approach grandmas in the best seats, others standing or sitting. we both begin to miss the customs of celebration back home. The gathering was filled with spontaneity as they shared sto- Kathy found VOA on the radio, and we’re able to hear some ries and jokes (we did understand some of them) and laughed Christmas music sporadically if the winds are right. and smiled. They began to sing some Turkish songs and we Teaching classes of 60-plus students three to a desk was attempted to join in with recollected versions of “Üsküdara becoming less of a challenge and more of a joy. The students Gideriken” and “Bahçelerde Börülce.” We knew them and were continuously curious about us. They wondered about our were applauded by our guests as they sang with us. We were lives, as we represented a culture and a life so foreign to them. encouraged to sing one or two English songs, and of course, The America they knew was mostly learned at the cinema. “We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.” We began to explain the holiday approaching and some of Someone was able to capture the moments, and the photos the Christmas celebrations we once experienced. We talked remain to remind us both of happy moments we shared in of Santa and fir trees decorated with lights and baubles. And Salihli with kind and caring people. This will always be an we taught the eager learners “We wish you a Merry Christ- unforgettable and heartwarming way to remember our first mas and a Happy New Year.” One of the students decided to major holiday away from home. bring the memories alive for his beloved teachers and came to our apartment door with a small pine tree he had cut from the nearby hills. He explained that he wanted us to be happy for our holiday, even if we were far from home. It was such a joyous and gracious gesture and we embraced it completely. Next was how to decorate and how to celebrate with others. Singing all the carols we knew, we raided our jewelry boxes to find the most sparkly earrings and necklaces, and hung them on the branches. We had taken to enjoying a special cookie that came wrapped a silvery tin foil. Those wrappers, rolled and flattened, became tinsel, catching the lamplight in shim- mering glory. School was still in session—no days off for an unknown holiday—but we were surrounded by caring and smiling stu- dents and co-workers. In a moment of giddiness, we had an Susan in the back row next to Türker Özbek, high school phys- idea: Why not invite the staff to share a special evening with ics, chemistry, and math teacher, who became her husband two us? We invited all the teachers and the principal and their years later. Kathy is in front of them. families to our small apartment for an evening of sharing. They all decided to come! We had no fears that we couldn’t fit them all in, and we did. What to serve? We were aware at this point that Turks were devoted to serving guests with the best of treats, and we needed Editors’ Note to comply in some way. First, punch made from all the fruits e had some articles and photos that we’ve had to reserve we separately enjoyed in the market. We bought juice from for the next issue, so if you sent us something that is vendors who freshly squeezed copious amounts for us into notW here, look for it in the year’s final issue.

17 A Truckload of Humanity by Jim Freeman, T-15 athy Waljeski, Hyacinth Kozlowski, Dick Janzig, and I me broke into a song of strange sounds. What was that high, are in the back of a rather large open-bed truck passing nasal, wheezing tonality? I didn’t recognize any of it, let alone throughK some wide-open countryside. We are working our the language. Even with my limited knowledge of Turkish, I way north-to-south along the Turkish-Russian border. It is a decided it couldn’t be Turkish. At first, I thought it was Arabic, warm summer’s evening, July 1968. but not quite. When the singer inhaled it was a wheeze which Along with a group of men, soldiers, and young boys, we then transformed itself into a song carried by its falsetto high are mostly looking eastward taking in the vista of a large, notes. What was that language? No idea. When I learned the snow-covered mountain. The mountain has names of the group of men near me, three dominated the undulating countryside as had Turkish names and two others, including we have been traveling through its uplands the singer, had strange-sounding names— for the past hour or so; it is Mt. Ararat, over not Turkish. It was then I realized they were 17,000 feet high. A few hours earlier in the Kurdish! Duh! Everything fell into place. afternoon, we had arrived in Iğdır from Kars Five or six of the men gathered around after an extremely hot ride on a bus whose me. We talked under the stars. “What is windows would not open, packed with the marriage ceremony like in your coun- people and belongings. We were hoping to try?” “Do you read the Koran?” “Why don’t catch a bus or some form of transportation you become a Muslim?” While we were down to Doğubeyazıt. on these topics a satellite passed over our Because it was a Sunday, some men in heads—seemingly just missing the snow- Iğdır’s square said that there wasn’t anything topped crown of Mt. Ararat! going that way—absolutely. Others said, All during this time the truck was winding “Yes, of course, there is a bus.” Still others its way along the road with its occupants stated, “No, there is no bus, but trucks go bouncing about, dozing, and being comfort- that way every half an hour.” ed by the wheat mattress. The temperament While waiting, we enjoyed glasses of tea that always seemed of the group was a communion of human fellowship, over- to be at the ready. I was surrounded by kids and men eager for looked and dominated by the massive presence of Mt. Ararat. their photos to be taken. Every 15 or 20 minutes I would ask A lesson I learned that night as well as on other occasions when our truck was to arrive. “Right away” was the oft-repeated is that when one shares one’s self with others, more often than answer. This meant we had time for another glass of tea. not that humanity is happily received and reciprocated. For me, To ride the truck, we had a choice. We could ride inside the the trip from Iğdır to Doğubeyazıt was a fantastic highlight of cab for 10 TL ($1 US) or we could ride in the truck bed for 5 our two-week trip through eastern Turkey. A memory indeed! TL. Because the weather was quite warm and as we had just endured an extremely hot bus ride from Kars, we decided to ride on top. Before the big Fiat truck came to a full stop, people began throwing their bags of belongings into the truck box and quickly climbed in after them. Burlap bags of bread, boxes of Sana, sacks of tomatoes and cucumbers were heaved aboard. It turned out that instead of riding empty, the truck was carrying a load of wheat. This allowed us to settle into the grain, making the ride even more comfortable. The human contingent of the load was comprised of sixteen men, including seven soldiers, four boys, and four yabancıs—yep, us. As we loaded up, the onlookers left behind were quite in- terested to see how the young foreign ladies would climb up, get into the truck bed, and still retain some small part of their grace. Amid the bobbing heads of laughter and smiles, Kathy and Hyacinth expertly climbed up and worked themselves into A truckload of humanity leaving Iğdır, eastern Turkey, July postion quite well—never an issue! 1968; some twenty Turks, Kurds, and four foreigners, all When most everybody was settled down, a man next to tucked on top of a load of wheat. Jim Freeman photos.

18 Thank You, Turkey 15 Return to Gümüşhane by Ilsa Duke Dickinson, T-15 by John Hudacs, T-8 y whole life was changed and enriched by the oppor- he Peace Corps is undoubtedly one of the most important tunity I had to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer in experiences of my life. It’s an experience that has contin- Kütahya,M Turkey, from 1967 to 1969. uedT to influence and add value and purpose to my appreciation I was raised in the mountains of rural western Maryland in of public service. I served in Gümüşhane, situated between a loving and supportive family. After graduating with a music Trabzon and Erzurum. I was in a single-volunteer site teach- degree, being so inexperienced in life’s complexities, I was ing at the middle school and Kız Enstitüsü. Average classes uncertain as to how I should navigate the coming years. After were between 45 and 60 students. speaking to a returned Peace Corps volunteer and being so During the summer, Paul Zollar moved by his experiences, I determined that joining the Peace (T-8) joined me from Tortum, and Corps would be a great way to get a fast education in Life. we worked at the local orphan- Knowing that my parents probably would not approve of this age. Our big project that summer rather drastic plan, I applied, was accepted, and chose Turkey as (beyond teaching the kids English my destination. Thankfully, after coming home from my college and American sports like baseball graduation, while they did not immediately take the news well, and basketball) was making and they came to understand my decision and support me. installing a basketball set-up in the One of the hardest things I have ever done was to survive the school yard. This was not without PC training in Austin, Texas, avoiding “de-selection,” in that its challenges. First we needed to summer of 1967. After that challenging period, I arrived in have a blacksmith make the rim to Kütahya and spent two years at our site teaching English at the our specifications. Then we needed local lise. In the summer I worked at the local orphanage for to find an unused telephone pole, find the owner, find out the entire period, trying to improve my limited Turkish skills. who to talk with to get it, and then negotiate with the vilayet Working alongside the Turkish teachers, students, and local officials (it was reminiscent of the scene in the Godfather townspeople provided me an education of communication and where Don Corleone had supplicants outside his office who, understanding that I had never before experienced. I left Kütahya after a time, were ushered in to grovel—except Mr. Corleone in the summer of 1969 knowing I was a much better prepared could actually make a decision and not have you come back and well-rounded individual as a result of my time there. multiple times). The pole went down about seven feet into the Working alongside the fellow young men and women train- ground, and the ground was hard as concrete. Digging the ees and maintaining friendships with many of these fabulous hole was unbelievably tough and time consuming but actually individuals after our service was completed has been one of easier than trying to saw the telephone in half with a rusty the greatest joys in my life. The opportunity to communicate, hand saw. When it was completed, the most entertaining part serve, and assist such a broad range of individuals helped to was watching someone dribbling the ball on the shale and prepare me for challenges I faced later in life as an educator the rocks as they approached the basket. The useful life of a of migrant children. I gained an appreciation and comprehen- basketball was a week. sion for all types of people and situations. I left Maryland a I returned to Turkey for the first time in September 2011, with young, naïve college musician and developed into someone Paul. We travelled throughout the northeast and the first stop with confidence in my ability to handle my reactions to people was Gümüşhane. After and places when confronted with new ideas or problems. 44 years, it was nearly Here is a picture of me (second from left) and some of my unrecognizable. There teaching colleagues from the lise in Kütahya. The picture is were good changes: the a great reminder of the joyful time I spent there, for which I new university, modern will be forever grateful. apartment buildings, skiing, hiking, and other sporting facili- ties, new roads (even tunnels), and modern- ization. The population has grown four-fold. The best part of the trip was a reunion with the assistant müdür and my best friend during my time in Turkey, Yusuf Sadık. Finding him after 44 years—and retired in Gümüşhane—still amazes me. 19 Arkadaşlar In care of Linda Scheffer

Buralarda* Visit Us* on the Web at The Newsletter of Arkadaşlar, Friends of Turkey www.arkadaslar.info

“Buralarda” means “hereabouts” or “somewhere around here” in Turkish. It comes from an exercise in some of our “mim-mem” Turkish language lessons: “Buralarda bir benzinci var mı?” (“Is there a gas station somewhere around here?”), ( repeated with different vocabulary nouns substituted for “benzinci.” )