American Hospitals The Way They Should Be... In Istanbul

After weeks of this rash and another "women's health issue," I decided to visit a hospital in Istanbul to get things checked out. Granted, I had heard horror stories of people dying in Emergency rooms as they wait, so I was very skeptical of the quality of health care that I would get. I opted for a private hospital, praying that they would speak enough English for me to explain my problems. A few phone calls later and I had an appointment at the American Hastane (Hospital) in Nisantase in Istanbul. (And yes, Koc has a hand in this too...)

My taxi was dwarfed by some of the Bentleys and black Mercedes in the entrance. Going in, there was a beautiful marble reception area. I felt like I was in a chic 5 star hotel, not a hospital. There were sleek chairs and one of those cow sculptures decorated like a doctor. My fears of hospitals (not just in Turkey) were eased. 

9:30 appointment in Dermatology, second floor.  I felt like I was checking in to a flight--the receptionists all wore ties and vests, not medical gear. They were just for the administrative and payment side of things. I sat down, seeing the well dressed demographic around me--this hospital was not for the average Turk, clearly. 

At 9:25, the doctor was ready to see me. Like clockwork. No waiting. The Dermatologist was thorough. He checked out my rash, he offered to do a biopsy. He took photos. He encouraged a follow up in two weeks after he prescribed me something. He sat down at his desk with me and talked to me about all of the possibilities. After, we went to "check out" and I paid, 175 TL or $114 dollars for the visit--which my insurance will reimburse me for back in the states. To be honest, I never had such straightforward, efficient care. 

Next, 10:30 in the Women's health center. I walk down the hall, passing a grand piano, more beautiful marble floors, and more lounges. The women's health center is bustling with kids, doctors, and women. I am early, but the doctor offers to see me early, so I pull my nose out of my Ayn Rand book and go into his office. He is wearing a Lacoste polo and pants. His office is just a nice consulting room. He takes me in, asks me how I am. We chat about my history, my mom's history, anything like that. He is surprised to find out that no one ever explained some of the genetic testing and treatments to prevent breast cancer--I did not know about them. My gynecologist never talked to me about these things and never did breast exams on me even! He took me to an examination room, where a nurse helped me dress and undress. He came in (no lab coat) did what he needed to. We went back to his office and he prescribed some testing that I needed done. It was less than a half an hour, but in such a short time, I had learned so much and never had such a good experience with a women's health doctor in my life. 

I wish he was my gynecologist... 

Now, I know this is a private hospital, but for specialists I spent less than $210 for TWO visits. I am amazed at the thorough treatment. Each doctor gave me his cell phone number to call him if anything should come up. They really were helpful and I could not believe I was in Istanbul to be honest. I know the US offers some of the best health care in the world... but after having some really bitchy gynecologists and nurses in my day, sometimes this "hotel hospital" world really is a dream come true. Sadly, I know most Turks cannot afford this health care, but at least in my situation--I wish there was a place like this in the states for the comparatively lower prices...

After, I treated myself to a crepe (seeing as how, though I was not traumatized by a hospital experience, I was still nervous). I walked around the neighborhood and came back to sink into my bed. Its far too hot and work is a continent away.... 

Rights and Raki: Thoughts on Youth Work and Youth

Until you are working intimately in programming sponsored by the EU, you cannot grasp the money that flows into the efforts to fashion multicultural, European, "different but equal" youth. The mission: create a unified, culturally rich Europe. The implementation: Trainings, conferences, social work. The process: Hmmmm

Working both on the funding/policy side and the project/implementation side in an NGO can inform you about both dynamic ends of the EU's project in multicultural Europe--by latching onto youth. However, when it comes to some of these projects, its really hit or miss. 

PEMBE EV ADVENTURE

Instead of going to the office and working on a report on European Youth Policy, Friday I went to the "Pembe Ev" or Youth House of TOG (my NGO) in order to start fashioning an international cultural summer camp for 16-23 or so year olds. (Yes, big age difference I know). Though I got lost after a metro, a funikuler, a ferry, and a bus, I eventually found myself on the Asian side at the Pink House or Pembe Ev. Once there, I was confronted by youth workers from around Europe and Turkish Youth, just hanging on an ungodly hot day. 

Planning these camps is no easy task. The goals are usually for a sense of participation (does this equate to Turkish or European participation and citizenship? Thinking about this...) and cultural exposure. Planning the games, workshops, events, and classes is harder than you would think. Keeping the attention of a 19 year old is hard. I speak from experience. There has to be some sort of net worth to the whole experience. Sometimes that means just chilling out and talking. (To be honest, I don't know the efficacy of the games and after reading papers about them and critical studies. I'm still learning.) 

Keeping goals in sight is important, but the whole process involves improvisation and keen observation... I knew this would have to be done differently...

TRANSPORT TO THE BLACK SIDE

After an afternoon there, I knew that my lovely AEGEE friends (plus Ivy EME alum Dimitrije!) were in Kilyos on the Black Sea for a conference. They invited me along that week so I decided to delay my visit to the Aegean Sea coast to go the opposite direction. I missed the Ferry, so I, with an unworking cellphone (for some reason it realized it was illegal...? i.e. Not turkish) I took a Dolmus (or minibus) to Sariyer then another to Kilyos. Problem. I was supposed to take another bus, which I later found out. To avoid further detail and to save this for a good dinner party story (much like my lost in the Sahara story), I will just say I eventually got where I needed to be. 

I entered on International Night of the participants (Armenians, Slovaks, Belgians, Turks, Serbian, American--me--and a few Dutch/German people). This means that everyone brings their own food and alcohol from their country to share. End Story. 

OPPRESSION IN THEATER OF THE OPPRESSED

Considering I was acting as an "Observer," I didn't feel much of a need to participate fully in the "Peace Leaders of the Future" conference... ahem. When I went to one of the workshops on "Theater of the Oppressed" (A. Boal's theory of using theater to examine the oppressor/oppressed dilemma), I grew even a little less engaged. When a trainer is trying to use "Theater of the Oppressed" on a group of students who don't live in such an obvious war zone of "oppressors" and "oppressed" trying to separate the "oppressors" from the "oppressed" and acting their roles is even more frustrating. Its not that simple. Please. Don't water down the issue. Okay for the 16 year olds, it was fine, but 24 year old students with Master's Degrees in European Studies? Hmmmm. 

I said, screw this "oppressor/oppressed" obviousness. I wanted to consider something maybe more close to home: That feeling of "self-oppression" about not being able to do enough in a world of problems (there are only so many UNICEF checks I can send), and therefore falling into apathy. When it came time to present, we were refused (we had a good skit too) because we didn't want to use the "oppressor/oppressed" thing. Call it invisible theater. I felt oppressed.

Afterwards, I kinda called the lady out on it and noted a good number of things.

1) The conference was originally for the Armenian/Turkish conflict, but due to scheduling and leaders dropping out prematurely, it became this: i.e. shit happens.

2) Don't have an age range between 15-24. Its patronizing. Why the EU groups youth like this is worrying. 

3) Value the fact that these kids are just together. 

4) Remember this is about non-formal learning. Not top-down. 

5) Sometimes some good old fashioned recreation is the best way to do Youth Work. I.e. netWORKing. 

RAKI, SAND, SUN: HOW YOUTH WORK IS ABOUT FUN

You know me. I am horrible at recreation. I bring my laptop to bars in Brussels to do work. I don't watch any TV. I am addicted to my gmail. My idea of fun is reading the BBC online. Let's face it. I am bad at sitting still and I'm bad at just "having fun." Something about this youth work business though that I've noticed is that there is nothing like a beach, some music, and a meal can do for inspiring conversation. I had much better conversations over my Starbucks at the end of the conference than I did during workshops. The intimacy that you gain at conferences is the impetus for continued dialogue. Simply put, my weekend simply solidified my bond with these amazing European students (TTYN!) and BAM! there is soft diplomacy for you. 

Though I didn't learn about who was the oppressor and who was the oppressed (though I deconstructed Boal's theory while I was bored during the workshop), I learned how to have a little fun. I also learned that it is okay to be 19 sometimes.  (Sometimes doing Youth Work on the policy end in an NGO for people my own age seems a little bizarre--I feel patronizing...) 

After saying goodbye to my AEGEE lovers as they flew back to Brussels, I went to have the biggest dinner ever with Murat, the Political Advisor and his friend and his wife at their apartment. OH!! BEST HOMECOOKED FOOD EVER. I learned more about fish, red grape raki, Mezze, and the art of cooking in one evening than I ever have. You just wait mom.... 

After 3 hours prep and 3 hours eating, I had the itis and I was so stuffed. Monday night now. I still am. 

Nothing does more for cultural understanding than food. :) Okay, maybe not.... but I like to think so. 

UPDATE ON HEALTH FOR MY WHITFIELD FAMILY: 

I realized that you all love to know how I am doing health wise. Normally I don't put this in my blogs for all of the world to see, but I'll let you know that I am FINALLY seeing a dermatologist tomorrow for my rash. That will be a whole different post... DANIELLE DOES TURKISH HEALTH CARE.

On Being Muslim: By Danielle

If I were a Muslim, I probably would not be a good one in terms of following the lifestyle rules. (i.e. I'm having a glass of red wine with the dinner I just cooked for myself--YES, I COOKED MOM!) 

That said, I have never ceased to be amazed by Islam. It is a religion of unity, peace, coherence, logic, love, faith, and dedication. When I wake up to the reading of the Qu'ran, or hear it the other four times a day by the muezzin near my house, I am mystified. The proclamation, "GOD IS GREAT" almost calls me to my knees in prayer as well. Sometimes it does. 

So I was on a mission to further my education in Islam. Last year in Cairo I did the necessary washings and prayers every Friday afternoon (except during periods) with the el-Kadi family (think Sunday mass for Christians). This year, I wanted to continue the tradition. Problem: I work on Fridays. You don't get Friday-Saturday off in Turkey. Its Sat-Sun. So. I e-mailed my Muslim Life Coordinator at Yale to help me find some knowledgeable and trustworthy Muslims in Istanbul to help me learn more about the details of Islam in Istanbul. He put me in touch with some friends. So on Sunday afternoon, I learned more about Islam. (After cooking Crepes of course--without measuring cups and baking powder. Delicious)

Don't get all nervous now, family. I took trusted Edgar along as my "bodyguard." We met up at Starbucks with Sinan and his wife, sister-in-law, and two friends who just moved to Istanbul. All of the women wore hijab (or headscarf). They took me to old parts of Istanbul that I would not have seen otherwise. Going to a different part of Istanbul is like going to a different country....

Eyup Sultan: Half a Hajj

First we went to Eyup Sultan, the burial place of a standard bearer of Mohammad and a sacred place for Muslims. Going there is like doing "half a hajj" I am told (Hajj is the pilgrimage to Mecca all Muslims must do as part of their 5 pillars--just FYI). So we go. I wore a long dress and long sleeves. When I get there, I am not with other western tourists---only Muslim tourists, especially soon-to-be-married couples and people with their soon-to-be-circumcised sons. As soon as I enter the premises, I must cover my head--not only in the mosque. 

I want to interject a thought about the headscarf. Wearing it is exotic to me, transforming, a becoming (lots of participles...). To Edgar too, the transformation was eerie. One gets a new impression of that person, who they are, and questions of why they veil. What do you think? Comments? 

When I went into the mosque, I went up a winding stairwell to the second floor (because as you know, larger mosques separate women from men). Women do not have an obligation to pray in the mosques as men do, so there tend to be more men praying in public mosques. I sit and chat with them as Sinan's wife does her prayers that the other two women had done at home. As far as etiquette goes, we all walk far behind praying women--something I never did before in Egypt. Upon leaving the mosque, we walk up hill and I remove the scarf. 

Cemeteries and Pierre Lotti 

In Istanbul, they build their cemeteries on hills overlooking the water. Each tomb, dating back to the Ottoman era, has a tall marker. The ones with round markers or hats are for important politicians, Sinan tells me. As we walk up the hill, Sinan tells me about extensive Turkish history, as well as tenants of Islam. He recites Suras from the Qu'ran sometimes as he passes along a particularly important tomb. We talk about finding me some Tajwid lessons---i.e. how to "call out" the Qu'ran, which is a real art in and of itself. We talk about Islam in general. A special place dedicated to Pierre Loti--a French explorer and writer--is on top of the hill. He wrote some great works on Turkey back in the day. 

Mosques

After, more mosques. We go to one built by the great architect Sinan (the same who built the Hamam I went to)--but it is under renovation. So we go to another near Istanbul University. There, I do not pray because I have not done the necessary abolutions. While I am waiting for others to finish the 5 o'clock prayer, I listen to the Imam and get lost in his voice (I am later told he is the best in Istanbul). Something about hearing the Qu'ran gives me chills. I want to pray. I need to pray. The word of Allah is spectacular--while reading it, you are listening to it. While listening to it, somewhere in your soul, it is being read. The relationship I have with those words and poetry never ceases to amaze me. While I am waiting as well, Sinan's sister in law helps me wrap my scarf better around my head--I'm a novice clearly. 

Afterwards, we wander through a Bazaar where they buy a Qu'ran for me (with English translation--not considered the Qu'ran, but it helps!) We also take photos at Istanbul University as I explain my interest in the relationships between ritual, religion, theater, life, sociology, and economics. It really all comes together.... 

So ON BEING MUSLIM

This is a question too large for me to answer in many ways. Yet when it comes down to it, I am in love with Islam as a tolerant, accepting, wholesome way of life. It really does think of everything from inheritance to the importance of diet and meditation. While some think this is too strict, at least it offers the guidelines. Especially in Turkey, people take religion as something intensely personal--which I respect and admire. This is how I view it too. It is not as institutionalized as say, Egypt (where your religion is on your ID card), but much more about you and God. Islam is about you, God, and the community. Which I love. And at core, isn't that what religion in the Judeo-Christian sense is about anyways? 

So while I am not about to give up my wine with dinner, I will certainly continue my study and practice in prayer method--which thanks to them, I also learned more about. Yes, there is a "way" to pray. And let me tell you. It works. 

Surprise Package For YOU! IVY EME

http://tinyurl.com/ivyeme

Check it OUT! The final package of the IVY Europe Middle East Summit! Go to the website and share in the glory that was this project. 

Lady Lost: Abstract Art, Stalkers, Spice Bazaars and Circumcision

Sometimes you just have to get lost. So Saturday, I did. Today's post is about how to entertain oneself (or protect oneself) by being LOST as a single lady.

I woke up, had some more carbohydrates to hydrate and decided to take untrodden paths to do three things: 1) Eventually make it to the Hippie District to try to get drum/guitar lessons 2) Go to the Spice Bazaar 3) Grocery Shop.

So I set out on foot. No public transportation. Found some great novelties. 

Abstract Art 

I made my way to Taksim, but opted for some back streets. I ran into a fashion house that carried original pieces by both Japanese, Brazilian, and a Turkish woman who studied Anthropology all over the world and now makes clothes. (See my other blog, www.theglobalizationofvanity.blogspot.com) 

After, I ran into the Pera Museum, holding a ceramic show in the heat of Istanbul Design Weekend. I can smell Yuppiness.  I will end here before I go into intellectual masturbation mode. I moseyed some more until I found the Istanbul Culinary Institute (more yuppiness). BEST part of my afternoon. I had a SALAD with soft cheese, basil and tomatoes. Now, the nice thing about being a girl alone is that you get free stuff. Of course I got free coffee and dessert! 

LOST MOMENT: I like getting lost in other people's conversations. And judging them. (I Admit it.... a single lady has to entertain herself with that around her) Next to me was a Chinese tourist with two Indian tourists having a conversation about abstract art. The Chinese woman was an "artist" while the Indians worked as Engineers at Microsoft. Conversation snippet: 

Indian Woman: "I want to understand abstract art! It is too abstract for my engineering mind. What is the guideline? Is there one? I mean, if I look at a stack of BIC pens they call "art" at my office at Microsoft, is that art? It must be good because its in my office." 

Chinese Woman: "Well, because you are an engineer you think you need a guideline but you don't. Maybe they put this in your office just to piss you off. Modern Art is about your relationship to the object and about the process. Its not about whether it is good or not." 

Indian Woman: "But there must be a reason!"

Chinese Woman: "Have you ever taken an art class? Maybe you would know."

Indian Woman: "When I was a kid." 

Chinese Woman: "You are just an engineer and so that is all art means to you and thats fine. Maybe you should analyze it. But if all you see if that, then that's it for you."

So Chinese Woman thought she was a really great artist, using buzzwords like "process" and "relationship" and putting down Engineers. Hunny, I've met plenty of great engineers who are also artists creating art because they are skeptical of art. Chinese Woman was kind of getting bitchy... Lucky for me, I had free dessert to keep me busy. I found my one dollar bill to give as a cute tip and left...

Stalkers

I walk down the street to the hippie district. I find some drums (tabla) and types of guitars I mess with before I get in a bargaining match with a "Bohemian Street Artist" as he calls himself. I find a vintage clothing store in what is basically the ruins of an old building with clothes from eons ago, leather, and a lady cooking. People glance at me, but I look Turkish, so I don't get many looks (I'm dressed normally for a Turk). I wander further down to the hardware district where someone tries to sell a faucet to me. Further on the bridge I walk past fisherman. 

LOST MOMENT: Coming out of the tunnel crossing the street, I hear heavy breathing on me. I glance from my side vision from my thick 1970s Perry Ellis Frames (thank you Aunt Nancy) and see a large prepubescent boy staring at me with his mouth open. I keep walking, he follows. I take out my phone to "call" someone. He still follows. Another 100 meters, I turn around look at him and say "Get away!" I walk quickly towards a mosque and fall in with a bunch of ladies. 

Thank Allah for Mosques. Instant security. Getting lost in a crowd is a major plus.  

Spice Bazaars and Circumcision

Finding the Spice Bazaar was a nightmare. I found myself in a clothing district, dealing with a different sort of "spice of life." 

LOST MOMENT: Culture can make you want to hide in fear of pain, not get lost. Everyone was out buying little circumcision outfits for their uncircumcised sons in this clothing district. So here is what you need to know. At around 10-12 boys "become men" (they are told) and get special clothes with crowns and scepters and toys. They eat out and get all the sweets they want. They get pictures taken and go to holy places. Then... they are taken to a sort of special place where they become men. Only they do not expect someone to whip out surgical tools and take their foreskin. Poor little dudes. 

After a while of wandering through gardening, pet, and hardware bazaars, I find the epic spice bazaar where I purchase rose and mint tea like a pro, along with Turkish Delight. Some rug dealers become  my friends and they all invite me back for tea later. I have a "date" and a "boyfriend" I have to go see, so they nod in a sort of respect, understanding, and disappointment perhaps. 

On the way back, I try to do something domestic with my life.

Grocery Shopping. 

LOST MOMENT: This is harder, yet easier in Istanbul. When you are in a tiny room and just ask for things and someone gets them for you--that's nice. When you don't speak Turkish and have to do this. That is not so nice. Lost.... But luckily I know enough words for food and "beautiful" to get by. I get the goods for crepes and scrambled eggs. I'm lost while trying to find my domesticity. I know it exists.... 

So lessons learned as a single lady: 1) Getting lost in someone else's rather pointed (and uninformed?) conversations about modern art can make any single lady want to get lost in a dessert--keep them handy 2) Get lost in mosques to avoid heavy breathing boychicks 3) Its okay if you don't want to understand why they circumcise boys at a late age.... 4) You don't speak the language of Turkish nor domestic-- at least the first one is a valid excuse for the fact that you cannot cook... presently....

Regardless, that was my favorite day (and the night was even more... interesting. Spucky, Spunky, Sparky shout out??). Sorry if it was scattered. My mind was a little lost in awe, wonder, love, excitement, wanderlust, caution, geography, shopping, nervousness, and Hasan Dede. Just kidding. 

Born Again Muslims?

Whirling Dervish shows are a dime a dozen in Istanbul (or 30 Pounds if you want to see the "official" one near the Galata tower, organized by the Contemporary Lovers of Mevlana Rumi--EMAV). However, some people still worship Mevlana Rumi's teachings under the Mevlevi order--a mystical Sufi sect of Islam. My mission? Find them. 

MYSTICAL?? HOLD UP. That is what my mother said too. Of course mysticism has a bad rap to many, but mysticism is by no means about shaking pot in one's face and doing witchcraft. Don't worry mom. This is not what I did Thursday night. 

I found myself the Contemporary Lovers of Mevlana Rumi online and a few e-mails later, I was in touch with Carole, who offered to meet Edgar (my brother...) and I to take us to her place of worship. 

Now, I did my back research before meeting an older American woman from Michigan, holding three roses who recently had a stroke in front of a McDonalds in Taksim. The Contemporary Lovers of Mevalana Rumi (EMAV for short) are actually aided by the government and earn lots of tourist $$ by holding performances near the Galata Tower--the old Sufi Mausoleum. Their Spiritual Leader, Hasan Dede, has raised Ataturk to Sainthood and is quite the TV face. Already, you are getting the feel that this is almost like a vogue Jerry Falwell? 

So Carole, bless her soul, takes us on a bus to her EMAV center. On the way, she tells us she has been in Istanbul for 26 years. The first 6 years, she didn't know what she was doing, then 20 years ago, she met Hasan Dede and "knew what she was doing." She always mentioned Hasan Dede, her "spiritual master" as if he was Jesus Christ himself. After traveling down back alleys where kids were playing ball, we get to the EMAV center, built three years. ago. 

Immediately, we meet Hasan Dede, who I am led to sort of kneel to as he blesses me. Everyone rises when Hasan Dede enters or leaves. Hasan Dede looks like a car salesman, not a spiritual leader. The cleanliness strikes me first. Someone cleans a lawn chair off for me. We sit and read a pamphlet made by EMAV members. Later, we remove our shoes to go into a new building with nice carpet, wood, and pictures of Ataturk and Rumi. 

The demographic is mixed though. The guy slicing your doner (or Gyro meat) is there, but also some very nice jewelry is around. Trust me, this kind of felt like one of those large Christian Congregations with microphones, new HomeDepot architecture, and an old man preaching from the floor on his sheepskin with his water, mints, and prayer beads at his side. Followers set their cell phones and diabetes pumps (yes...) in front to record him speaking. The Qu'ran sat on a shelf, unreachable 

Before I go on, you should know some things about EMAV....

A CRASH COURSE IN HOW TO BE A CONTEMPORARY LOVER OF MEVLANA RUMI (Thanks to my Spiritual Talks of Hasan Dede Book, for 5 Turkish Pounds at the center... hmmm)

Q: Who is Mevlana Rumi? 

A: Rumi was a 13th century Persian poet and philosopher. His teachings and Mystical Sufi spiritual practices were so influential, that his son continued the Sufi Order. Rumi was considered one of the most popular poets in America--according to wikipedia... 

Q: What are some basic Mevlevi principles? 

A: Mevlana teaches that God created the world and human beings and created HImself within the humans. He says, "Whatever you want, want from yourself because you are everything." Love between humans and God and Mevlana (who is everywhere) is the basic idea. LOVE and self perfection. Mevlana are famous for their Sema which is the Whirling Dervish Ritual, where anyone can whirl for the "burning love to become one with God." Contemporary lovers of Mevlana must follow Hasan Dede.... 

Q: Who is Hasan Dede? 

A: He is a Macedonian who moved to Istanbul and fell in love with Sufism. He trained with another Mevlevi Sheikh, Hakki Dede. later, Hasan Dede became the representative of Mevlana. He has the red sheepskin used in the Sema. Basically, he sold Mevlani to the world and raised Ataturk to Sainthood. Because he can. Because he is Hasan Dede. (All rise when he is in the room). Resembles a sort of local politician/car salesman. Wears gold and silk (no no's in Islam).

Q: Are Mevlani Moslems? 

A: They regard themselves as Moslems, but they do not read the Qu'ran. Instead, they read Mevlana's books, which can be translated into many languages. It is the "living Qu'ran, which is better"--as Carole said. 

Q: Do Mevlani follow Mohammad? 

A:They follow all prophets and combine all of the Judeo-Christian prophets, kinda like Ba'hai shall we say.  "The Ex. Mevlana himself was the Ex. Mohammed of his time [...] With Mohammed the book of prophethood was closed; and the book of sainthood was opened." 

Q: Wait, weren't Mevlevi's made illegal under Ataturk? 

A: More of less. A law passed under the nationalist movement in 1925 closed all Dervish lodges. Sufist names and clothing were also banned. Instead, one of these lodges was made into a museum. Later in the 1950s, (when Hasan Dede came to town), they were allowed to perform once a week. In the 1970s, the Mevlevi could go west again and act more. Today, they are permitted to practice and travel the world. They have raised Ataturk to sainthood and his picture is next to Mevlana himself in the EMAV center... 

_____________________________________________________________

Okay, so after Hasan Dede spoke for an hour and a half, we had Zikir, the liturgy. 

Men and women, seated opposite from each other pray together. I covered my head for Zikir. They begin with the "Bismillah---" Arabic intro to prayer that all Muslims use. Then they go into a sort of their own "Fatiha" or main prayer. Carole told me to "be comfortable" before this. Some people might have been startled by the repeated "ALLAH ALLAH ALLAH" and swaying of the kneeling congregation. It was kind of like a Shaker ritual ceremony that I had practiced... This lasted for about 15 minutes. Most it was Turkish, some was Arabic (because of a visiting Sufist order).

Next, we had tea and cookies.  Of course.

After, we had the Sema or the Dervish Ceremony. Hasan Dede was dressed in the biggest hat and entered the room to sit on the ceremonial sheepskin. A wooden circle on the floor is uncovered previously. More semazens enter in black. After "acknowledging each other" in a sort of "Encounter" if you will, then acknowledging the space, as they pace in a circle. Music from the balcony has started. Then, they remove their black robes (both men AND women) and with the blessing of Hassan Dede (and his successor... who kind of looks like Bono), they beginning whirling. They do this four times. 

I love the Sema. It is beautiful. It is not ecstatic, like some Shaker ritual (like the ones I did in that play in high school where I got a concussion from my "ecstasy".....). It is level headed, or as level headed as you can be with such dizziness. It should not be spinning uncontrollably. There is something very regulated, very orderly, and very defined about the ritual. Each person was in this space and another space, with their environment--in out and beyond, with each other, with Hasan Dede, and with God. 

 Now, though I got a weird feeling that these people were like "Born Again Muslims" who have discovered some meaning in life and are led by an old man who looks like he would be selling shoes not god, I look back and rescind this "negativity." I do respect them. They are a peaceful people who have found meaning in life. This uneasiness that I felt and maybe preach in my writing here is a product, perhaps, of that a-religious "Amurrican" within, who might be a little skeptical of following anyone. That said, I really respect and admire their dedication to music, to history, to love, to beauty, and to God. I thank them for their hospitality and their honesty.

On the way back, we hitched a ride in a bus with an American/Finnish tour group of people who were celebrating the American's 70th birthday. He wanted to see the Mevlevi too...    

I'm sure I'll talk more about the EMAV in the future. This is only the surface of my experience....

Clouds in My Coffee

Sorry about the hiatus from Blogging. I've been suffering from severe exhaustion the past few days, even if I do sleep 14 hours to try to get better. Let me recount the past few days before I go on to describe my "Contemporary Lovers of Mevlana" (i.e. the Contemporary Dervish Order) adventure on Thursday... oh yes. You wait. 

Monday: I meet up with an AEGEE Istanbul member in the evening. After walking around and talking about his Engineering degree, AEGEE life (i.e. Politics, Europe, Parties), we settle into a Coffee Shop. After my cup of Turkish Coffee, we do what all good turks do--read my fortune. The art is ancient, respected, (and may force one to exercise bullshitting skills... at least in my case, haha). But Samet knew what he was doing. We let my cup set for 5-10 minutes while the thick grounds settled. 

My fortune? I have many paths. However, I will not choose my future path, but fall into it naturally, thought presently they are many. As I fall into it, I will dedicate myself with "great intensity" and find myself with success. 

Sounds like many other fortunes, but at the same time, there is a degree of difference between choosing and falling, intensity and not. Coming from a stranger, this wasn't a bad judge of character for me. I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee, in the words of Carly Simon. Guess they aren't dreams. 

Tuesday: Meeting at TOG for International Summer Camps with Romanians, Turks, and Germans. We narrow down our ideas to "Environmental Entrepreneurship." So education, practice, and implementation. To be honest, there are many obstacles one has to overcome in working with an international group of bold individuals, some vagabonds, some accomplished university graduates. I am learning the values of patience, laughing, and forcefulness quickly. I think I sold my ideas to a group who bought something they didn't quite understand.... (entrepreneurship namely). They were all on board with the environment. When it comes to implementation though....

After, we went to the Yale-Bogazici University dinner, complete at the "BUMED" alumni club in Istanbul, near the Citadel, right about Bebek. You don't know what I'm saying. But what that means is that it is in a beautiful and well-off area of Istanbul. I met some amazing alumni and made some great connections for my Ivy Middle East conference next year. The company and conversation was great--one Irish lady has a kickass English book exchange in Taksim. Thank Allah.

Wednesday: I get really fatigued and end up leaving work early to sleep 4 hours. Though I have dinner with a friend, I end up sleeping 10 hours after.  I'm terribly tired. This continued on Thursday... I'm not quite sure where this intense fatigue is coming from. 

"Anarcho-Hipsters" and Hamams

The weekend is normally too packed to properly update everyday, but now I would like to share some of the highlights of my weekend: 1) The Street Art Istanbul Festival 2) Turkish Hamam 3) Dinner with a Turkish Woman. How they are all connected, I cannot tell, but here we go: 

The Street Art Istanbul Opening

Work panlists at Toplum are fascinating. Working in youth networking and development means that you instantly have access to every youth movement in Istanbul. I found an event beneath the Galata Tower celebrating the opening of a "Graffiti Arts Center" complete with DJ's, free style rap, and poli (flame throwers). 

The "Graffiti Arts Center" was not a Museum. It was a decaying old warehouse out of Gotham City. I get there around 8 PM with some friends and felt a little dressed up in my oversize men's button up, sans cigarette or beer. We decide to turn around for a drink, even just to hold so we don't look too foreign in the hip/grunge/punk/hipster/gangsta crowd we suddenly found ourselves in. Upon returning to youth central, we entered an old warehouse of 4 stories, each with works of anarchist graffiti and stickers. Albeit political, sexual, or just plain cool looking graffiti, everyone was adding to it and making their mark. In a place like Turkey where an OSS exam places you into a career and a college, youth need something to define their individuality. 

We went into the upper salon, where everyone was smoking and dancing in a sort of LA street style way. I couldn't make up my mind if I was in the 8 Mile or Terminal 5 for a Vampire Weekend Concert. Call them anarcho-hipsters, as Edgar would, or "narco-hipsters" sans narcotics. Call them a bizarre mix of LA and NYC street youth. Call them the Peripheral Underground. Call them what you will, but the flame throwers were cool. 

Check out the website. So cool: 

http://streetartistanbul.com/

Hamam

Turkey is famous for their Turkish Bath. For my afternoon, I decide to the second best Hamam in Istanbul (not the best where Tony Curtis and Franz Liszt had visited). This Hamam was built by architect Sinan in 1584, with beautiful pendentives where a large dome rests on the bath areas---one for men and one for women. The dome has holes with "elephant eye" glass to let psychedelic light in from the heavens. Turkish bath architecture usually consists of this dome with a hot flat marble stone underneath, faucets, jacuzzi bath, and then different antechambers in a colder room to lounge in. Back in the day, if a husband could not afford for his wife to go to Hamam twice a week, she had legitimate grounds to divorce him. ("Hunny, you didn't buy me massage this week. We are over!") 

My experience: I go, say goodbye to Edgar who goes to the men's side (which kind of looks like Gringott's bank I swear), then I am pushed around by large women who tell me to undress. I don't know if I should wear a swimsuit, so I just go... well, naked. I put my towel on, they hurry me into the bath room where women with tata's down to their knees (naked) are scrubbing down naked or partially naked women. They take my towel off and lay me on the hot rock. Just breathe Danielle. After 15 minutes of sweating, a women with tata's the size of my thighs starts scrubbing the skin off me and giving me a sort of back realignment. She then rinses me off, then uses a sort of pillow to bathe me. Never before had a loved the feeling of floating in a sea of foam on a rock. Amazing. She rinses me again, gives me hot panties to wear, and then I soak more. After that, I go lounge and nap. 

Who knew sweating naked on a hot rock could be so great? 

(Almost) equally cool, I went to the famed "Pudding Shop," a place for hippies back in the 60's to meet before they embarked on their trips in their VW buses for India or Afghanistan. Bill Clinton's photo was there.

Turkish Dinner

For dinner, I called up a Ph. D. student who I met at Bilgi University. After (rather boldly, if I do say) bringing up the scarf ban in public places, this woman and I instantly were connected. She wears the scarf, technically illegally, in university. At work in the government, she has to be placed under a special "contract" for "short term" work, eve if she is a long term employee. People complain about women being FORCED to WEAR the scarf. In Turkey, there is a prejudice (at least in Istanbul) towards women who CHOOSE to wear the scarf. They are FORCED NOT to wear it! (Just as bad if you ask me). 

Her driver took me to Bebek, a cute, Shadyside like part of Istanbul where the rich dock their yachts. We finally found a restaurant when her younger brother appeared. We had a lovely dinner with coffee and (for them) cigarettes. The waiter asked for my friend's number, but because his wife also wore the scarf and couldn't get employment. My friend was the only woman wearing the scarf in this really nice eating establishment. We chatted about politics, Obama (who Turks love, particularly for the religious acceptance/Arab tolerance), my acting, men, economics, and business. I won't share the intimacies of our meal, but I found it one of the best times I've had in a long time. 

Ivy Istanbul Recap (FINALLY)

What you have all been waiting for. A recap on the EPIC Ivy EME Istanbul leg. Instead of doing this chronologically, I have decided to break it up into categories for you: Food, Sights, Universities, and Politics.

One shout out: Thanks to Murat, the Political Advisor to Nursuna Memecan and our BFF who put together this fabulous intro to Istanbul! Big thanks to Nursuna Memecan and the Grand National Assembly of Turkey!!!!

Food

Like every good Ellis girl, I start with food. The Metropolitan Municipality owns everything, even restaurants--which is where we (not) wined but dined at some of the most historic and chic sights. Take the Ottoman Ambassador to Egypt's house where we ate one night--one of the most luxurious sights to get a 15 lire dinner! The prices are affordable and dining in these mansions are amazing! 

Murat also took us out for Mussels and "intestine," equally delicious. My favorite however is the Iskander kebab--a lamb, pita, tomato and yogurt dish that rocks my socks. The rice puddings and baklava pastries (which the Mayor of Istanbul also has a bakery for, both in Istanbul and NYC!) 

Sights

Topkapi palace, a weird mix of Ottoman, French Rococo, and Italian Fresco provided a sort of architectural spaz for me. I loved the fountains by the window--antique anti-spi security systems much? The curator apparently speaks 7 languages or something and refuses to date women who don't speak Persian. Hot. 

Of course the Hagia Sophia made me cry. The zebra like walls, the pendentives, the "ink blot" marble, and the mix of Christian and Muslim motifs just are awe inspiring. And yes, Isodoros and Anthemios knew what they were doing with the "ring of fire" on the dome... I just about passed out. The blue mosque was also brilliant--where Krystal and I got into a deep discussion about the role of headscarves and gender relations in Islam--for another post!! 

The Grand Bazaar provided ample entertainment--with gold bathroom shoes and Templar pins/antiques. Oh free masonry and templar knights. My father will never cease to be entertained. Plus, shopping for military pins with Taimur and Murat was fabulous. (My bartering skills here are not too shabby, mwah ha ha) 

Lastly, the Military Museum proved to be a favorite. The rich history of Ottoman military tradition adds an interesting element to the Nationalist tradition that later developed. Apparently Turkey and Pakistan also have a fascinating relationship as far as military training goes. 

Let us not forget Santral Istanbul--for a tour of the first major electricity plant and new modern art museum (with a Moleskin exhibition with Sigur Ros!) and the MiniaTurk park--where I got an entire tour of Turkey---in Miniature. 

Universities

We visited Bogazici, Bilgi, and Sabanci Universities. Oh my intellectual havens. I loved Bogazici--an old "Yale of Turkey" this university has a view of the Bosporus that rivals any Oxford, Yale, or Stanford environment. Plus, the vice rector was from Yale. 

Sabanci is only about 10 years old, but already in partnership with Harvard, Columbia etc. The Sabanci family is one of those "business groups" that are family owned, like the Mellon's or the Carnegie's back in the day. This is a fascinating time in Turkey for Philanthropy. The university was built from the ground up, sticking it to the man by providing a sort of liberal arts core curriculum that the national government does not approve of (mostly Engineers and economists here...). They are truly progressive. Thanks to a Saybrugian, class of 1968 in the History department, I got some great lessons in Ottoman and Turkish history--plus a connection to pursue more of my Islamic studies while here. 

Naturally, these universities have opened up a world of learning for me. And don't you worry, we've been in contact. I'm already studying some Tajwid (Qu'ran reading) and will be exploring more of the Ottoman history. There is so much to say about the university system here, but I will leave this too for another post. 

Politics 

Let us not forget about our visit with the Deputy Mayor of Istanbul. In our very official meeting--a true honor!--, we discussed the traffic, the corporations, and the governing body of (arguably) the most powerful city in Turkey. The Mayor of Turkey is like a shoe-in for PM, but lets just say local politics can be very... interesting. 

Next, the Young Civilians, as reactionary group here in Turkey to promote democracy. While we may not agree on everything (as I am more of an advocate/practitioner and less of an activist), I found their social and civil work quite important. Every country needs a thesis and antithesis for a synthesis I suppose. 

We also met at the Istanbul Chamber of commerce. Turns out the presenter did his undergrad at UVA and worked in the steel industry in VA for a while--small world. Oh steel. How you unite the world! :) This coming from a steel broker's daughter. 

Naturally this was a very brief overview, but I learned a lot and made a lot of great connections. Having dinner, tea, and e-mail exchanges is proving to be very helpful to me and my work in entrepreneurship, NGO's, Islamic studies, Youth advocacy, and more! I love Istanbul for this.... 

This was honestly one of the best and most informative experiences I have had, which will inform much of what you will read in the future. You just wait.... 

Going to bed after a long day at the office, Istanbul Modern (saw some Yoko Ono work there), and finally a real meal. Eating rice can get old after a while... ;) 

Theater and Migros: One More Day of Stalling

Okay, one more day of procrastination in recapping Ivy EME Istanbul edition, I promise. 

Today I had a taste of some student Theater at Istanbul University. One of my co-workers offered to take us to a production his friends were putting up. Naturally, you didn't have to tell me twice. Yes, I'm a natural skeptic, but I usually don't say no. 

So we go to one of the oldest parts of Istanbul, Edgar is about to pee himself with excitement about the comparative literature department's history at IU. The production was called, "Encounter With the Same Kind," a student written and directed production out of the British Literature Majors. The premise: Mrs. Dalloway (who I am in real life, remember?) is throwing a party for Alice in Wonderland, Eve, the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, Ophelia, Elizabeth Bennet, and Antoinette Bertha. 

Now, I will not remark on the acting, the staging, or any of the technical theatrical elements--this is not what this play was about... (even though my co-worker called it "experimental" and decided to buy roses for Mary Magdalene... awww). No. I was more interested in the fact that I was in Istanbul, watching a play in English, put on by Turkish students, in semi-understandable English, by English majors, with obvious sexual innuendo, exaggerated sexual metaphors, Christian symbolism, and a Mary Magdalene with orange hair who gets together with Mrs. Dalloway at the end. They definitely took the symbolism in the text a little too literally, which I took as a reflection of how literature is taught to them in a systematic and rehearsed manner--pardon the pun. The all girls nature reminded me of a poor, but sincere attempt at "Top Girls." 

I was waiting for Ophelia to drown herself but voila, the play was over. I took some time to walk around and notice that Istanbul University has an affinity for Brecht. There were about 4 different plays they have done about, by, or a la Brecht. Where is the Turkish Theatrical tradition? 

So after our theater jaunt, I ran into a bus to Sisli, where I got off at a Migros (yes, I thought it was Swiss, but apparently Koc owned it too). There, I dropped a fair amount on Special K, milk, cheese, and Halva, along with face cream and lotion to last the rest of the summer---I have not had any of these for about 3 weeks and missed them so much. In the process, I found "GUSTA" beer. So speaking of Theater and "Conversations With My Father," *ahem* this was a very theatrical day. 

Interjection: My Intellectual Sexy Time

Pardon the sketch title, but I honestly cannot describe my academic and pseudo-spiritual euphoria right now. 

In lieu of discussing the summit today, I am going to jump ahead to the future of my narrative, i.e. the past: today. 

After a lovely day at Toplum, working and making some entrepreneurial connections and chatting with the founder (as well as preparing for the Gala on Wednesday... C-List celebrities and paparazzi much!), I did some Taksim exploring with Edgar, my lovely co-worker. 

Now there are some things you need to know about my current life and mental state. 

1) I am working with Edgar, who is a lot like me, yet nothing like me. While we are both, shall we say... bold? he is more direct while my style is more sublimated. We both do what we want though and say what we feel. Thank god. Edgar, while being a Salvadorian powerhouse, is also the kind of intellectual and literary expert who could kick your ass in anything. MUNTY much? As a result, our conversations are charged with---well, not intellectual masturbation--but some sort of sincere academic intensity, always with the Hyperbole lock ON. 

2) I am reading a lot of Buber, I-Thou, Utopia kind of things (Campanella too). Not to mention writings on Political theology, World Bank summaries on Education, Turkish and Ottoman history, and... of course... the Qu'ran. 

3) I drink about 12 cups of tea a day. 

Naturally, my mental state is biting, sharp, intellectual to the extreme, and informed--a sort of A-Game I haven't felt since maybe my Donne essay in High school. So, you can only imagine what I felt when walking through Taksim, the heart of the city, and then I find an old antique book store. 

At Denizler Kitabevi, the Pearl of the Pera (www.denizlerkitabevi.com) They sell maps, pins, rare books, and they had a kickass old version of Madame Bovary in the original French (Edgar liked it more--I detest Madame Bovary). 

And guess what I find? Just imagine my two favorite things in a single book. 

Modern Egyptian Drama ed. Farouk Abdel Wahab. 

Yes my friends, everything I love in one. The introduction was so fabulous that I read the entire thing while holding my 15 pound laptop bag. The owner eventually said, "I'm going to have to charge you more if you like that so much." In response, I said, "Well, I hate this book and want nothing to do with it." "Okay, for that, I give you discount." 

We became friends. Turns out he taught himself Ottoman Turkish at the age of 45. His best friend is head of Harvard's Middle Eastern Studies Department. This guy is connected and intelligent. He gave me his business card (as many Turkish people do---I LOVE business cards) and he invited to show me some of the old maps they have (along with cigars and tea). Honestly, this place is a diamond in the rough.

At that moment, I wanted to just stay in Turkey for part of my life, studying Ottoman Turkish, Persian Drama, and Islam, sit on a balcony and watch people go by as I drink 15 teas and 5 turkish coffees a day with some baklava, write about what I see and think and then go to Cairo and do it there. 

So what do I do after my academic, spiritual, life encounter? I walk down narrow streets of amazing stringed instruments, run into an arts fair (with rich hipsters galore), share some wine Edgar bought and muse on my future as a leading expert in Utopian philosophy/history, Arab Drama and Islam.  

I love Istanbul. 

Recap on Geneva PLUS Blogging In Diplomacy

While this post is dedicated to discussing my time in Geneva, I also wanted to take a moment out from the get-go to reflect on the nature of Blogging itself. 

Three Points of Discussion then: 1) Blogging 2) Diplomacy and the UN 3) Fondue. 

Blogging

After re-reading yesterday's post, I kind of got a 

little paranoid thinking about how anything I "publish" here could in some way be used for or against me in the future. Terrifying thought. Freedom of speech is all well and good, so long as you have a semblance of self-control. When I don't have my coffee, Lord only knows what comes out of 

my fingers. 

That said, I was really thinking about how many politicians and diplomats now keep blogs. Two reasons why this can be problematic 1) Lack of Sincerity and seeming dogmatic and 2) The room for error to destroy careers. We live in a world where anything you say or do can be held against you. For instance, in Brussels one diplomat claimed that keeping a blog was not only too time consuming but also too risky. I'm anxious to see what jingoists and tabloids dig up on my political peers when I grow up. I dread to think how they twist what I say. 

Diplomacy

Oh Geneva. Land of Rolex. MontBlanc. Fondue. Chocolate. The Red Cross. Neutrality. $20 cold medicine (uggggg). And a boat load of Intern

ational Organizations. From the original International post office organization to the ITU (International Telecommunications Union) to the UN Palace of Nations, to WIPO (grr MLA...), and a bunch of other acronyms, Geneva has always prided itself on its diplomatic, international, and human rights initiatives. Its soft power with di

nner over cheese and wine does a lot for the world. 

Thanks to Geneva, we have international standards for many things, from how we patent things to what URL domain names etc. we use. Private, 

public, non-governmental. 

Funny too, Geneva architecture is like 2nd generation Cold War / 1970s Winter Chalet look. Yes, I'm laughing at the underground cities of the US and Russian Missions to the UN (both across the street from the UN Palace of Nations, separated by the Red Cross Museum... haha irony) Mix that in with gorgeous traditional swiss looks, a backdrop of mountains, and you have this uber rich city that boasts stores that

 sell goods too good for brand names. And about the price of my college education. 

Geneva does have quite an international community, but like many of these intercultural soft power hubs, orgazanizations like the UN can be a little bit gridlocked (see EU post...). While I adore diplomacy (Props to the US Mission to the UN for welcoming us), it can be very frustrating too--especially for eager young interns who want to change the world. 

Geneva does provide interesting stories though. Imagine a bunch of diplomats leaving on Ahmadinejad's speech to the UN. Even diplomats who can't speak entirely freely on their blogs can really stick it to the man sometimes. 

And check out this cool chair for human rights in front of the Palace of Nations. 

Fondue

One of my favorite parts about Geneva were our 

eating experiences. Naturally, I imagine a lot of dynasties have been saved (or destroyed) over Fondue. A great Fondue in Geneva was shared with the CEO of Sandbox Network, an under 30 network of talented entrepreneurs who help them get capital and advice in their start ups, while providing great networking tools. 

Now, food is not cheap in Geneva, as we learned quite quickly. It is a different game here. So We learned to picnic. 

Yes. We just up and went to Migros, bought our wine, cheese, and bread and sat out in the park (while couples were making out in the grass) a

nd we ate. Even at young UN night on the lake, BYOB was quite popular as well (props to Cecelia). Fun times too with Columbia Alumni at sports bars. 

Ultimately, Geneva was pretty amazing (YES. We did have housing). Even so, it was a lot of work getting around, organizing meetings with officials, and trying to find a meal under $40 each night. No wonder everyone was so thin... 

LASTLY

I would like to point out a small boycott on British Airways. Even though Taimur finally got his visa to Geneva, he could not fly with our group to London and then Istanbul. Apparently he also needed a visa for a layover in London!! Okay. Fine. (He never had to do this before--measures changed recently). However, the customer service and treatment of a strapping young male who looks straight out of a picture in the Economist, Esquire, or a Diplomatic Review--jacket and all--should not have resembled what it did.  Turkish airways is awesome. 

Go ahead. Let the future read that. 

So I'm sitting in my flat and very hungry. Grrrr. Sea Bass and Bread is not enough to sustain me. I feel like all I eat in Istanbul is Bread any more. Bread, tea, and coffee have quickly become my primary sources of nourishment. 

Iyi geceler. (i.e. Goodnight in Turkish) 

After a Two Week Hiatus: Brussels!

I apologize for the two week hiatus. Paying for internet access is not my thing. Now that I am in lovely Istanbul (not Constantinople) I can recount some of my experiences to you...

So you all know that I was co-Chair of the Ivy Council Europe Middle East Summit in Brussels, Geneva, and Istanbul. The Ivy Council is basically the organization that networks all of the other Ivy League universities together. With 14 other Ivy League Students in tow, we went out on our diplomatic and philanthropic mission around Europe, making connections with the European Students Forum, EU, UN, and the Grand Turkish National Assembly. After squatting in random offices, apartments and rooms in NYC and New Haven for several days, we left for Brussels. SO: 

FIRST LEG, Brussels: Home of Waffles, EU offices, and... perhaps more importantly in a lot of ways... AEGEE or the European Students Forum. There are Four points I would like to make about my experience in Brussels: 1) AEGEE 2) Organizing Summits  3) The EU 4) Nights in Brussels

AEGEE

AEGEE or Association des États Généraux des Étudiants de l'Europe, is one helluva concept. 15,000 strong around EU member states and non-EU member states (like Turkey), this Youth Council makes other Young Organizations in the States seem small. Basically in 1985, found Franck Biancheri put this together. A new book on the organization talks about how AEGEE is a prototype of the EU and is 15 years of so ahead of what European Politics will look like. Not bad. So we were on this conference with AEGEE members from around Europe called "Sparks of Future" meeting with EU members, US Mission to the EU members, the Consulate from Jordan, and so much more. Aside from that, we were mingling in "Delirium" by night with the future leaders of Europe. I have great respect for AEGEE, with Dragan and Robin--their fearless leaders--helping us every step of the way. The story goes on.... 

(Sue, AEGEE member, me at EU Parliament building) 

Organizing Youth Summits

Upon arriving in Brussels, we were whisked away by Robin, the lovely VP of the European Students Forum (or rather, AEGEE). We went to the HQ of this organization, kind of like a frat house in the US, only like a hostel for all of the Europeans that drop in. Aside from me not sleeping for 72 hours or so, I discovered a glitch in my inbox that informed me we did not have housing in Geneva. After an AEGEE party in the back yard where the Dutch were camping out in tents, all of the other Ivy delegates went to sleep. During this time, I (with the help of Robin and Dragan) organized our housing situation. Who knew you could save a conference while the Dutch delegation was drinking away the next room over? 

The Sparks of Future summit was fabulous. We met and toured the best of Brussels. Now, putting together the speakers for these summits is fun, but also intense. The networking potential is great (the diplomat at the US mission to the EU put us in contact with diplomats in Geneva and Istanbul for instance). We had a chill evening with a Yale Alum who is an actor and who also works at NATO --i.e. my dream life. 

Sadly, Taimur--my cochair, was unable to make it. Schengan visas are a real problem for Pakistani citizens and I was so sad that these member states couldn't get it together to get him to Brussels. So we dealt with that crisis situation with grace as well. 

.

THINGS I LEARNED ABOUT ORGANIZING THESE SUMMITS: 

1) Move on over politics and get things done. Don't let petty organizational quips get you down. 

2) Breathe. Have a beer. Then work on crisis situations. 

3) Networking is key. 

4) You can't force anyone to do anything. You can finesse them into it. 

5) I CAN survive on 3 hours each night... but only for so long. 

6) Patience is a virtue. 

THE EU

So we were at the EU Commission building during the weeks leading up to the Elections. Fascinating really. But only 25% voter turn out or something. In the States we have this perception that the EU is an all  powerful organization. Mmm... its good for border measures and money, soft power business too, but really it is so intensely democratic with the popular vote that it is rather stagnant sometimes. Sadly, many people don't bother voting in EU elections. While AEGEE really worked for "Y Vote" and promoting youth measures, sometimes the EU just doesn't provide enough incentive or reason for people to vote. It prides itself on the "messiness that is democracy" (as one member told me). Props I suppose. My impression is this: European Democracy is kind of crazy. Progressive. Useful. Yet gridlocked. Even so. I think the EU is a fascinating concept, which I did not know much about before in my Middle Eastern, Latin American Centricity. 

(Me at EU Commission) 

NIGHTS IN BRUSSELS

Call me Mama D. Yea. Thats right. 14 other Ivy Leaguers--all but one older than me--called me Mom. That means that I took responsibility in making sure everyone was up at the right time, dressed, fed, and transported to where we needed to be. That means not drinking while others are all over Brussels and maybe in Brugge (movie pun intended). Lets just say I really appreciate the fact that in "Delirium"--the world famous bar with 2004 different types of beer--they have Wi-Fi. So while I am sipping on the world's best beer while my "Children" are all over creation, I am also working on the internet and setting up meetings with UN, US, and EU (add more acronyms) officials. Poor me. (Actually I love this)

Okay, that was a long post. You wait till Geneva.... 

Now I am sitting at a Starbucks on the Bosporus, apparently the most beautiful Starbucks in the world. And Yes. Starbucks exists in Istanbul. Its very cosmopolitan here. Very European.

Well, off to get some delicious Iskender and think the next 3 blog posts. Oh the stories I have to tell....