Letters from Vietnam 51

29th November 2006 - HCMC

Is it true that I always feel lonely because I am a writer? U. claimed this last weekend while chatting on Google talk. When I told him that I want to return to Turkey for at least a few years to try Turkey for working and writing, he replied me with this claim. According to him, I will feel lonely wherever I go because I am not interested in external world. This partial truth made me think about my final exodus. I still want to return home for other reasons if my problem of physical loneliness can not be resolved. I want to return home because I miss my family, because I miss speaking Turkish, because I miss browsing bookstores for Turkish books, because I miss Bosporus, because I miss Turkish food… I also told him that a return does not mean an end for anything. Eventually, I have a house in Bangkok and sooner or later I will go back to Bangkok either for working or for vacation. If I can not do in Turkey, there is always an option for other countries. As a teacher of seven years experience, I believe it will not be so hard for me to find a job in any country even though I am Turkish. Being optimistic makes me happy even sometimes I feel as if I am cheating myself. However, one needs to be optimistic to produce regularly. Desperate people create desperate truths and those truths cause only problems for others.

Pope is visiting Turkey now. M asked me to write something about it but I do not see anything special about this event. First, I do not have sympathy for this pope for known reasons. His eyes reminds me a man with different thoughts from the words he uses. He seems like he is scared of something or he wants to scare something/somebody. There is no kindness of previous pope in the present pope’s eyes. Of course, these are my subjective observations. It does not bind anyone and does not provoke any idea. The words he used before becoming pontiff and just after are also supporting me to some extent. His speech about Islam and violence was very unprofessional and he did not apologize for his speech. It might be because Popes are the shadows of God on the earth and they do not apologize since they do not make mistakes by definition. But in a world of globalization, there is no more small mistake! His words are considered as “commands” and people respect him for the sake of the position he holds. He kept saying that he quoted the words of Roman emperor and he did not mean any bad about Islam. But one should ask why he chose to quote those words which are both wrong and provocative. Couldn’t he find a better example? Beside this speech, his previous statements are also not so friendly in terms of religious dialogue and peaceful solutions. Everyone knows that one of the first things he has done after becoming pope is firing or sending away a Vatican scholar who was expert on religious dialogue, especially on the relationship between Islam and Christianity.

In other words, Pope is not visiting Turkey as he visits a Muslim country. He is visiting the head of Orthodox Church who resides in Istanbul for centuries. For long time, Catholic Church and Orthodox Church did not go well together. There are many problems between them and Pope will definitely look for some solution for Istanbul Fener Patriarchal. What amazed me the most is prime minister’s request for a support to Turkey’s EU entry. The government is using this visit for its own purpose. We all know that the negotiations with EU are now slower due to the problems with Cyprus and ports. However, prime minister wants Turkish people to forget this “lack of speed” and try to make people look at something else. What is he going to say after Pope leaves Turkey is quite known: Look! Even pope is supporting us! Firstly, I don’t really believe Pope supports Turkey’s EU bid and secondly I don’t think pope’s support will work for any good. PM of Turkey one more time messed up with religion-politics dilemma and hit the wrong rock. If he wants solution to the ongoing crisis with EU, he has to solve it in political arena, not in the way of religious leaders talk and negotiate. He is using Pope’s visit for coming elections and apparently he lost a lot of vote because of the problems with EU. Many people lost their faith in Turkey’s entry to EU. It seems like the governing party will not last one more term if they can not give the same spirit of EU to the people.

I resumed writing my novel again. I wrote the first three chapters long ago, before coming to Vietnam and I have been writing and editing first four chapters for the last three days. I have installed Turkish keyboard to my school computer so now I can also type Turkish in school. This makes submitting stories to the publish houses much easier. My only concern is the character in the novel looks like me a lot in many senses. I guess in the next few chapters I will spend a lot of effort to make him look different from me and have different environment/hobbies/friends etc. Otherwise, the story will not only look like my personal journal but also reveal my secrets in a way where people will not doubt about their findings.
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I would like to add Allan's thoughts on Pope's Turkey visit here. I enjoyed his thoughts and the humorus style in his article.

I have been gone from Turkey less than two weeks and stay current with on-line news, so I can give you a reasonably well-founded perspective on the Pope's visit there -- not what will actually be, of course, but what some of the "ground" is on which he will be walking.

First and foremost, the Pope missed a tremendous opportunity to score major points with much of Islam world-wide when he failed to use the word "apologize" in some form whenever he has tried to back out of and smooth over the effects of the mideval quote he used that criticized Islam. Muslims were looking for that specific word, and he should have used it several times. When he didn't, people felt slighted, felt as if they were being finessed diplomaticly rather than being treated honestly. The Turks are among this group. If the Pope were to make a clear-cut apology while he is on Turkish soil it will do much to win the hearts of Turks, somewhat less in winning the hearts of Muslims elsewhere.

Second, a few Turks have some tolerance for Christianity and some understanding; many Turks are simply indifferent to Christians and Christianity; and a lesser number are anti-Christian with feelings that usually lie just below the surface, like water that is almost ready to break into a boil. Of the second group, a small part could break into a boil rather easily, as is illustrated by the rally in Istanbul on Sunday. A few of these hot-heads may actually make an attempt on the Pope's life while he is in Turkey.

Third, there is a widely held belief that Christians want to unite and take or re-take lands and nations now held by Muslims, sweeping first across the East from Iraq through Iran and on to the Turkic Republics, finally uniting with Christianity's not too secret effort to capture or control Afghanistan. The Pope's main stated purpose in coming to Turkey is to meet with the head of the Orthodox Church, who lives there, and talk about a rapproachment between the major blocs of Christians they represent. This fans Muslim paranoia.

Fourth (or 3.1), the Pope is expected to urge the release of various Christian properties being held by Turkey, including the headquarters of the Orthodox patriarchate and an old Orthodox seminary, and to urge fair and equitable treatment for all Christians throughout Turkey. Such treatment includes the repeal of a law that says only native born Turkish Christians may serve in any administrative capacity in the Orthodox Church in Turkey. This has strangled the growth and life of the Orthodox Church (intentionally) in the country where it feels strongly that it has its roots. All of these pro-Christian considerations lend fuel to the belief that the Pope wants to unify Christianity, etc.

Fifth, after the Pope met briefly yesterday with Turkey's Prime Minister, Recip Tayyip Erdogan, Erdogan said the Pope had given his clear support to Turkey's bid for membership in the European Union. Turks know this is a reversal of the Pope's previous position and appreciate it. If Erdogan misunderstood or misstated what the Pope said or intended to say, and the Pope corrects him publicly, rather than letting it go, there will be a tremendous loss of face for Turkey and a corresponding rise in anti-Christian sentiment.

Finally, I am afraid that an attempt will be made on the Pope's life. That would strengthen the divide between Christians and Muslims. If the Pope were to die, he would be a martyr of the first order, the world's most prominent Christian symbol attacked and destroyed, and we would be well on our way to Huntington's "clash of civilizations." Let's all hope the Pope's visit to Turkey is a positive one.

--Allan

Letters from Vietnam 50

26th November 2006 – 11:23 - HCMC

Writing everyday a half page was going well until I ended the story. For the last 4 days, I could not apply the same routine because I could not find a new topic to write about. There are a few ideas to write stories but those are usually either overly metaphoric or frequently used by other writers before. Creating something original is not easy in the sense of writing. First the writer must know what to write and then decide how to write. Moreover, to start a story with a nice beginning is not good enough. The writer should develop the material, create characters and plot and hide the message she/he wants to give to the reader. All together, the process requires the skills of a craftsman and thoughts of an intellectual.

One of the new ideas came to my mind recently when I read Guy Debord’s thoughts on spectacles. I sent the aphorismic seeds of thoughts to A and we had several e-mails on the people, society and living without spectacles. A possible story could be like this: A man loses his way in a city or he also may be kidnapped to somewhere unknown. When he opens his eyes, he sees everyone in the city wearing glasses in different shapes, colours, sizes, specifications etc. He soon realizes that he also wear some glasses which he ha never seen before. When he removes his glasses from his eyes, he realizes that he is not able to see anything. Then the conversations start with a child whose glasses change very frequently and with an adult mother whose glasses are old and rusty. The details can make the story more remarkable but still there is something missing: Conflict! May be he will want to go back to his hometown, or he will look for someone, or a beautiful girl will attract him to another unknown world where he will see more peculiar things. As we know that the conflict is the engine of the story, then without it, the story will be dull and useless. Actually I am a little bit tired of writing stores with full of metaphors. I want to try something more real and more tangible to the real people. Hiding a philosophical truth behind a story may not be so bad but one should be very careful with this because the reader may give up philosophical transformations very easily. I like reading stories like Metamorphoses, Animal Farm, Blindness and Nose etc... And I also like writing these kinds of stories. However, since I have written so many stories similar to this kind, it might be right time to try something different.

Those who follow the news in Turkey must know the last story of “Emperor is Naked”. The story is almost the same. A few months ago, an energy company in Turkey claimed that they have invented a machine which converts nothing to energy, or in more technical terms, the machine’s output energy is much larger than its input energy. You give 1 Watt-hour and get 100 Watt-hour. They also said that it has nothing to do with nuclear energy which is still quite unknown to my country. A reasonable scientist can only laugh at this claim. It actually happens in Turkey by this way now. Scientists from prestigious universities say “it is impossible” but the company spokesman still claims that their invention will change the world. They already spent millions of dollars for advertisement campaigns. The interesting thing is they had a press conference last week. The attendees were mostly retired army generals and ultra-nationalist lawyers/prosecutors. They make the invention as the symbol of “power of Turkish mind”. However, nobody has seen this machine so far. They say because the machine is very important for the future of the world, they hide it. They also said that they have applied to Turkey’s patent institute already. This means their invention will be recognized by an official institution of Turkey. However the patent institute did not approve anything yet and they said the purpose of the machine is not clear. All this mess is caused by a few generals who believe Turkish mind is more powerful than rest of the world and they think by challenging the universal laws of Physics –especially Thermodynamics- they can create new fuse around themselves. The comedy actually starts here. Our generals think that even the Physics laws must be under the control of Turkish army so that nothing can be out of their sights. I laughed a lot when I read the news first and I thought there must be some misunderstanding. There might be a machine which can convert one type of energy to another type of energy. In fact, modern life is based on these converters. But I can not believe that a machine which can create more energy than it takes unless it can be explained by some ad hoc hypothesis by scientists. The retired army general in the press conference said that their invention could not be explained by present Physics laws. That means the whole thing is unscientific and simply rubbish. If he says they have called scientists to investigate the situation and bring some scientific explanation, I would say they might be right. But so far not a single scientist saw the machine or said something in the favour of machine. This company keeps fooling the media and makes people busy with their stupid ultra-nationalist ideas which I still can not find a connection with the machine. The funniest explanation came from another general when he has been asked about the machine. He said the machine works with the principle of inertia. Either he does not know what inertia is or he thinks Turkish people are stupid to understand inertia. First of all, there is no such a thing like “principle of inertia”. There is inertia and it belongs to the shape of the object. Two objects with same mass and same density can have different inertias depending on the distribution of mass around the centre of gravity. That is why when you rotate around your own axis while your hands are open to the both sides your speed is lower comparing with rotating while your hands are sticked to your body (Conservation of Angular Momentum –I1*W1=I2*W2-). When you stick your arms to your body, your inertia becomes smaller and then your angular speed increases. Nothing can be created by inertia because it is not a thing but it is a property which comes with the shape of object. I also read news about some electricians who claimed that the invention belongs to them but the company stole it without paying them. None of these electricians explained how the machine looks like and how it works. This is why I said at the beginning the story reminds me the story of “The emperor is naked”. There is an invisible machine which is supposed to be magnificent in terms of creating new energy and solving our planet’s deadly hunger for new energy sources. Let’s wait and see this invention of 21st century… As the 8th president of Turkey used to repeat frequently: 21st century will be belong to Turks… I hope my people will not be ridiculed by others for such a useless machine which creates energy from energy while losing most of it during the process…

Letters from Vietnam 49

19th November 2006 – 10:05 – Home / HCMC

He jumped out of the bed with the fear of being late to his job but soon he realized that it was Sunday morning. The clock was on the table, faced down! “Did the alarm ring?” he asked himself. There was no sound in the room. He felt as if the power has been cut off abruptly at the middle of a rock concert and a vacuum of nothing to fall into could easily be sensed in the air. He put his hand on his stomach to check if it turned to normal after the heavy drinking session last night. He sat up on the bed to see the clock and took the clock in his hand to check whether it still works. There was no sound coming from the running seconds of the clock but on the large glass screen it was visible that the clock works perfectly. He could not solve the contradiction and put the clock back on the table.

When he entered to the living room, the silence of the room made him confused again. No sound was coming from outside. He opened the windows to hear the honking cars and crying babies but there was nothing in the air. No singing birds, no blowing air, no swinging trees, no beeping motorcycles… It was absolute soundlessness! He thought about last night and the things happened with his friends. One of his friends, the one who is pregnant, told him that there is an alchemist in neighbourhood and he can help everyone to make their wishes true. He barely remembers that he liked the idea of going to an alchemist to solve his everlasting problems. At the end, it was too good to believe that there is someone who can solve the problems without any scientific process which generally needs more attention, more discipline and more money. They went to the alchemist’s house together. On the road, she told him that she was pregnant. He shook her hand to congratulate her and her husband as if they reached to a final point in their long marathon of business negotiations. When he thought of this scene, he chuckled but again not being able to hear any sound from himself, he felt upset. He recalled the house of the alchemist and the garden which was surrounded by all sorts of flowers. It was the most beautiful and colourful garden he had ever seen in his life. They entered to the house to meet the alchemist. Then he remembers nothing about the rest. It was all blank! What was his wish? What did he ask from the alchemist?

He sat on the sofa and tried to think what he can do now. The best thing to do is to contact K and ask her what he wished last night in Alchemist’s house but he could not figure out how! He can not even hear his own voice! He yawned deeply as if the problem itself is something superficial and could be solved if he just stops worrying and keeps calm. If he calls her, then he will learn nothing. He might be able to ask her the problem but not getting a response directly makes the method dull. He thought about going to her house but the absolute silence of the city scared him. Without hearing the sound of the city, it would be so difficult to walk on the streets, to cross the road or even to get on the bus. Then he decided to write an e-mail to her. It was the best way to reach her although it can be considered as slow. He had to wait until she checks her e-mail and he has no idea about how often she checks her inbox at the weekends. He wrote an e-mail without hearing the clicking sound from hitting the keyboard and sent to her immediately. In the letter, he said “I am totally deaf now! It must be something from the alchemist we met last night. I remember nothing about the time after we arrived to the big house. What was my wish?”

Just after sending the letter, he called her as well. On the phone, because he can not hear what she says or even if she answers the phone, he kept repeating, “Good morning, this is S speaking. I have a problem. Please check your e-mail account as soon as possible! Bye!” He repeated the same words ten times in each calling without knowing that what was going on at the other side of the phone. After giving up on the phone, he turned to the computer screen again. Instead of waiting for the e-mail in front of the screen, he went to the kitchen and made a coffee for himself. A few cookies and coffee! Almost every morning starts by the same way he thought. Without hearing his own voice, he was not even able to witness his curses while killing the ants around the sugar container. With the coffee mug and cookie dish in his hand, he went to the chair in the balcony to watch the city which already woke up long ago and running towards life. For him, the city is not an object. It is a living creature same as a human. It has heart, kidneys, lungs and blood vessels. He looked at the tall and thin buildings on the other side of the street. They were colourful buildings with narrow entrances. He thought that this must be the best way to provide the maximum number of people benefit from the mighty business opportunities of the street. Each building has a narrow entrance means they can have more variety of businesses on the same street without letting power imbalances among the shops. While looking at the shops and the motorcycles passing by, he recalled how much he hated the noise coming from this street in the mornings of weekends. Now there was nothing coming but he was still unhappy. This was definitely not my wish, he said to himself. He went into the bedroom and checked the computer screen if there is any e-mail. A bright happiness spread to his face when he saw the little yellow envelope picture at the right-bottom of the screen.

* * * (To be continued)

Letters from Vietnam 48

16th November 2006 – 15:31

The position of my new desk is unique because I am looking at the window while working and all other colleagues in the office are either behind me or beside me. Because there are partitions everywhere in the room, I see nobody when I work. But others can see me easily, even without moving on their chairs. Sometimes I feel as if everybody in the room is watching me when I read news in Turkish. This feeling is not negative. There is no fear in it. Quite the opposite! To imagine that everybody in the room is watching me constantly gives me some sort of “irrational” pleasure. I call it irrational because I could not find a rational explanation for this. It might be the pleasure of “being watched” by others while not knowing that who, when and why! Being watched by strangers and being judged! How many of us can accept the idea of someone watching our dreams? However, this thing simply reminds me “Big Brother” programme on TV. A dozen of young people live in a house and 24 hours of their day are being watched by all TV viewers. They do it for a kind of competition. I am not doing anything to be watched or anything which can attract others’ attention. It is my desk, my computer and my books! I often look at outside from the window. Fu My Hung buildings are just in front of me. They look like five siblings walking hand to hand in an empty land. There are a few trees I can see from this place. Some construction machines are constantly working for the new road. The sky is clear but the white clouds look like splashes of paints on a blue canvas. I used to make pictures from the white spots during my childhood. Mostly the only picture I was getting was an iceberg in Antarctica.

There is also a ruined statue a few kilometres away from the school. It is visible from my window during the day. I can not figure out what it is exactly. It looks like a Buddha statue but why did someone destroy a Buddha statue and leave it in this position? It might also be a statue of a political leader. It is tall and large. There must be some better explanation for its silent stand… It reminds me abandoned historical places in Istanbul or the destroyed Buddha statues in Afghanistan. There is something sad about it because it is so lonely and so big. It can watch everyone and can be watched by everyone. However, no one helps it to recover from the effects of rain or dust. It is definitely old and like many other old things, left to die in its own terms. People rush to life everyday. There is no place for an old statue in the modern life unless it could bring money by attracting tourists. Life in practical sense is also very selective. Those who deserve to live continue the race. Those who are useless are usually left behind.

I started a work routine in recent days. I work until 5 pm and then I write for at least 2 hours. Some evenings J calls me and asks me the time as if she does not know the time. I know I am behaving selfish but this is the only way I can keep going. Beside, she also noticed that I feel more cheerful and happy if I have written a few pages before coming home. I don’t touch computer at home. I try to spend all my evening either talking with her or walking with her in the neighbourhood after the dinner. But in school, I have to force myself very hard to keep going on creative things. Actually, it works quite well. I at least write a half page a day. Next day when I start writing again, I first read previous day’s work and edit it. Then I write another half page. Sometimes it is hard to stop after a half page. In that case I keep writing until I can not write any more.

In the last three days, I even got a new friend. A gecko comes to visit me every evening after 6 pm. On the window, I can see its patties, sometimes falls but then quickly climbs again. It comes to eat the flies and other bugs on the window. Since outside gets darker, bugs stick to the window due to the light inside the room. Then the gecko comes and collects them. Because light inside is so strong and outside it too dark, I can also see my own face on the window as if I am looking at a blurred image. The gecko sometimes seems to walk on my face, climbing my lips, walking on my nose. I even talk with it when I stop writing for a short break. It is a silent but helpful friend. It tells me how I pretend to work while I am actually not working and how I am selfish in terms of my own interests. A silent gecko friend is much better than a talkative human friend sometimes because in the case of gecko I made it talk whenever I need to listen. But in the case of friend, he/she can pull the subject wherever he/he wants and we may end up somewhere I don’t want to go.

By the way, thanks to A., I stopped dreaming about speed publishing of my stories by sending them to a vanity press. A. told me that the money I would pay for the book might be more helpful to buy a little canary and listen to the songs every morning. He was right. I sometimes behave very amateur. I don’t need to beg anyone to get publish my stories because I believe they are good enough to be published in good magazines. The only thing I need is a little bit more patience and enthusiasm to keep myself sending stories to the literary magazines. I already contacted one of the biggest publish houses in Turkey and they gave me an address. After re-editing my stories one last time, I will print them and send to the publish house. I have to do this thing more frequently to increase my chances.

Letters from Vietnam 47

13th November 2006 – HCMC – 07:37

I want to be deaf sometimes. Over the last seven years in South East Asia, I developed a kind of sensitivity for noise and it seems like the process can not be reversed. I became over-sensitive to all kind of sounds, which can easily be considered as superfluous. The beeps of motorcycles, honks of trucks, loudly speaking people, ringing phones, smashing doors, buzzing machines etc are all driving me crazy these days… I react to these noises mostly silently but sometimes I become wild and lose my control. I told my students that if they come to my class late, it is no problem unless they do not smash the door behind and close it neatly by their own hands. I also sent an e-mail to all lecturers in my office to apply the same process when they enter or leave the office. The grumbling of smashing door like a thunder takes my mind away from me and I feel as if I am at the edge of being insane for a short time. Noise itself is a sign of insanity! I remember how B closed the windows and doors of his bedroom to protect himself from overwhelming noises coming constantly from the street. He also put some black boards on his windows to keep the sunlight out of his room in the mornings.

My oversensitivity for the noise did not develop within one day. I think the growing stress and loneliness inside me helped this thing to get bigger and made it an enormous problem for me over the last seven years. Yesterday I shouted to J just because she was dragging the fan on the floor while I was reading. I knew that I was not supposed to shout her because of this but I could not stop myself. The constant sound coming from the objects in the room also makes my nerves out of the border of sanity. When I have noise coming from outside I feel as if I am so helpless in struggling with big waves of the ocean. They come and smash me on my head, roll my body towards any direction possible and the only thing I can do is to curse.

In Vietnam, this oversensitivity reached to its peak point. I can’t imagine somewhere else people make more noise than they do here. Going to the city and getting exposed to the all sorts of noises make me dizzy and I feel nausea as if I am going to throw up all the noises I have just swallowed. Last week I have been to the city twice for my health certificate. I needed it for the work permit process and the HR lady gave me an address of a hospital where there are English-speaking doctors/nurses. First day I went to the hospital and returned to the school around 11 am. I was so exhausted with the noise and fumes from the vehicles that as soon as I got to the school I had lunch. The same thing happened when I went to collect my health certificate too. Again I returned to school a few hours before lunch time but could not wait for 12 am for that. I ate as if I had some kind of feeble body which needs careful protection from noise and fumes.

However there are still some kinds of noises which do not really trouble me. For example, a crying baby in a public bus makes me feel good –not because baby cries desperately but I guess I feel some joy of life in this sound-. I also do not bother seeing students talking loudly around me and making jokes. I take these noises as part of my life or basically part of the whole life. I wonder the day when my own voice starts to be a noise for me. Then I need to be deaf and mute at the same time.

I also wonder why people live in HCMC? What makes them to live here? I can understand the locals who are continuing a life of their parents so for them there is not much choice but what about the foreigners? When I ask friends at school, they usually say the same thing: You will get used to it. But there is nothing special to getting used to the noise. I don’t want to get used to it because it will kill my senses slowly without giving me anything special. There are many foreigners living in this city for long time without having any problem with noise and dirt. People seem as if this is a heaven for easy and inexpensive living. I can admit the word “inexpensive” to some extent but the word “easy” would be an exaggeration for this city. Life here seems like life in a caravan for years. You have to move and make noise to get rid of the trouble in your ears. It may not sound a good idea but it seems to work perfect when it comes to the word “adapt”. Darwin states three rules for evolution: Migrate, Die or Adapt. If you can make your own noise, you will be protected by all other noises coming from outside. I think this is how people live here. Whenever I go to the city the first thing strikes to my attention is the constantly honking motorcycles and cars. Then it is also not difficult to notice people beside the road listening music very loudly. This explains the whole situation. If you don’t want to get troubled by the external noises, then make your own. It is like a mother who does not tolerate the cries of somebody else’s baby but when it comes to her own baby, she becomes a heroine to answer the needs of the baby.

The city lives and grows with noise. There is no way to stop it and there is no point in complaining about it. If I don’t want noise around me, I should not live in the city. People in the city adapt themselves for all kinds of intrusions –mental or physical-. But people like me are less adaptive to new situations. I need a few things with me wherever I go. A few books, a computer to write, a mug to drink coffee/tea and of course my beloved wife are the four indispensable for me. Anything more than these needs to be careful investigation before interrupting my silence. At the end, I believe the silence is the best music human mind can create. The rest is noise!

Letters from Vietnam 46

12th November 2006 - HCMC

Last week I went to the dance club to see if I can learn dancing. As soon as I arrived at the club room, I have been greeted by a few students who are enrolled in my classes. It was good to see some familiar faces at the first time since this way my embarrassment could have chance to turn into fun. When dance teachers came, my nightmare started. Almost everyone in the room was able to do the steps without much problem. A girl from Statistics class tried to help me by showing the steps beside me and repeating the same thing probably tens of times. It seemed easy but soon later I realized that it is as hard as playing an instrument. As a person who learns everything by mental studies –not by observing and imitating-, it was too hard to teach my body how to move after a certain step. She tried very long time to make me feel comfortable at my first day and I tried to be very patient not to leave the room. However, I could not learn a single sequence of steps for the entire session. I left with the feeling that there are certain things in this life I should not try at all. My self-confidence helps me only in certain positions. I am definitely very stable in a Math class and feel well after writing a beautiful paragraph. Playing an instrument, singing and dancing are three of the many things I will never be able to achieve. Of course if I try harder, it will not be a problem but the question is deadly at this point: Do I really want to dance? The answer is definitely “no”. Watching the South American girls dancing on the streets makes everyone envious but this ambition only is not enough to make one a good dancer. After the first lesson I easily gave up dancing classes with a great frustration since I knew that I would not be able to allocate sufficient time or energy for dancing. It requires constant attention, regular exercises and great determination which I do not have for dancing at all. The good thing is, as Nietzsche says, “that which does not kill me makes me stronger”, I learnt one more thing about myself without losing much time and energy. Now I can only enjoy watching dancing couples and appreciate their skills. There is no question of all human accomplishments are results of self-determination and hard-work. When I multiply big numbers in my head or take their squared-roots without using calculator, my students usually ask me how I am doing this very quickly. I told them several times that there is nothing special about this because one can do the things he/she loves. If you love dancing, you can dance very well and make people feel jealous. If you love numbers, then you can play with them as if a magician plays with poker cards. And of course, if you love words, then you can write beautiful poems and amazing stories to be remembered for centuries.

Last week there was another important incident, which happened in virtual world. I am member of Turkey-Thailand group which aims to provide communication among Turkish people who either currently live in Thailand or used to live in Thailand before. Last week, a guy wrote a complaint about his disappointing experience in Embassy of Turkey. His complaint was about the behaviour of the secretary at the front desk and her prompt reaction towards him when he rejected to supply another document for the visa application of a Thai friend. His behaviour towards the secretary of a state institution was not acceptable and seemed unbalanced. However he wrote his complaint to the group and I believe, although he was wrong he deserved a response from the authorized people who are also members –even moderators- of the group. But instead of answering his complaint and telling him where he made a mistake, the moderators ceased his membership and fired him out. He wrote to me next day about the situation. I felt sorry for him but I was also angry for the action taken by the moderators. The group itself is not a state institution; neither exists to protect the state’s rights. If he said something wrong, then whoever has right to answer his comments, has to do it in a way people do in modern times. To ban him from the group and sending him off the group as if a football player is sent off with a red card for his brutal actions is very undemocratic and very primitive in terms of management. The difference in the analogy is obvious. Unlike the well-defined rules of football, our group did not have any rules before this incident. The group was serving for the people and it needs to embrace all diversity in the population regardless of whether the population is small or not. I wrote a condemnation letter to the group mentioning that banning is the action of the managers who are either powerless or not be able to moderate the diverse situations. I got several answers, which were condemning my condemnation. I did not withdraw my letter. Soon later, one of the moderators of the group stated the rules of the group for the future references. Then people turned to write about daily things again. What I understood from this experience is very simple: As Turkish people we all appreciate freedom for ourselves. When it comes to the freedom of others, our love for ourselves passes over all other social responsibilities. We are very weak when it comes to support others’ freedom or search for rights. Another lesson I learnt was about Turkish state institution’s impatience to the criticism. I admit that the guy at the beginning made a great mistake when he wrote the things to the group before he talks with Embassy officials but still this does not justify the action of the moderators. When he called the Embassy for the action against him and told them that “this is against democracy and human rights!!!”, the official at the other end of the telephone line told him this historical sentence: “Who told you there is democracy in the group?”. Those who believe in different democracies for different individuals or using it only for their own benefits are called either fascist or dictator.

I started to write a short story narrating this incident and combining it with my never-ending authentication procedure. I only wrote a page but it already went in a Kafkaesque road in the first page. I will try to get rid of the pessimism of “The Castle” and have some humours to make it a sarcastic criticism.

Letters from Vietnam 45

9th November 2006 – HCMC

After a break of nine days, I am back to writing again. After the last entry to the blog, I only write a letter to C and a half page beginning for a new short story. Yesterday evening I stopped working at 4 pm and started to work on writing in Turkish for almost two hours. I realized that this is the only way I can keep writing since it is almost impossible to write at home. J wants to talk with me once I return home and this is the only right thing I can do. I can not blame her for feeling lonely or loving me. Actually, I must be thankful to her for being so patient with me.

Whenever I start writing a new short story I am having the anxiety of hesitation: what if I can never complete it? I wrote a half page yesterday and stopped writing when time was 6 pm. I re-read my two paragraphs several times and edited them more than twice. Polishing a small piece of story is much easier than working on a whole story. As soon as I stopped writing I went home. On the road I tried to keep thinking about the next half page which I will write today. My mind was clear and fresh in terms of the plot and characters. My only concern was time! The same question again and again attacked to my mind. What if I can not complete it and it stays as an incomplete story like many others. There are more than twenty half-stories in my computer. Some of them are almost finished and if I have enough courage to go through them, they will be complete in a few hours. However I can not return them because I lost the enthusiasm which made me start those stories at the beginning. I believe that a short story must be written in a short time. The longer time it takes the more deviant it becomes. The sparkling idea which gave birth to the story can take the whole process if it is hot and fresh. I think I will delete most of my half stories in coming days. Destroying them can help me to stop being obsessed with old ideas. I am not sure how it can help me to star new stories but leaving something behind and not looking at back always inspire new innovations.

Last weekend we went to Mui Ne again. It was nice to stay away from city even though it was only for one day. We took a morning bus and left the city at 9 am. At 1 pm, we were on the beach, walking barefoot. I took Ben Okri’s short story collection with me. It was an easy read and I have finished it without much trouble. I can not say I really enjoyed his style when he mentions dreams and modern magicians. His other book I have read last week was better in terms of style and technique. It was an essay collection and most of the essays were about poets, story telling and the value of art.

In the evening we went to a restaurant near to our resort. There were French people inside so the TV was speaking French all the time. Soon later I noticed that Vietnamese music comes from behind my table. The music was coming from a Vietnamese man’s cell phone and I guess he tries to impress his girlfriend with either the music or the quality of his phone. It was irritating because the sound was loud and he never stopped it. For more than 30 minutes we have listened to a mechanical sound which is definitely not as beautiful as the sound comes from a stereo. When they left the restaurant, he put his telephone into his bottom pocket and the music was still on. I told J that his bottom sings… We both laughed but still tried not to make it too visible for our music-lover friends J

Whenever we inserted the key holder to the socket of electricity on the wall, the TV in the room automatically turned on. And more surprisingly, whatever the channel we watch, there was a red word at the top of the screen: FACTORY. We both did not understand why TV screen always shows the word FACTORY with big, bold and red letters. It must be some kind of error from the settings of the TV. Unlike the first time, our room was away from the sea this time. There was no way to listen to the voice of the sea while trying to sleep. However, I woke up in the next morning with the noise of the construction. There was an ongoing construction beside our resort and we had he nearest room to the area. I could not sleep in the room so I took my book and went to the beach.

After reading two books from Okri I returned to the biography of Kafka. I don’t want to finish it easily because it is, like Kafka’s own books, a heavy read. There are so many words whose meanings I can not figure out from the context. I use a dictionary to keep going. Today I read 6th chapter in the book and I realized that Kafka also suffered a lot from “not being able to write”. This is a quote from his best friend, Brod’s diary. He writes this paragraph after convincing Kafka to describe the events they have seen during a festival. According to the plan, they will both write about the same thing and then they will compare with each other:

I was pursuing a secret plan. Kafka’s literary art was lying fallow at that time: for months he’d completed nothing and he often complained to me that his talent is obviously leaking away, that he’d totally lost it. He was living for months on end in a kind of lethargy, very depressed; in my diaries I find recurrent entries about his melancholy. Le coeur triste, l’esprit gai… Even when he was in his deepest depressions, the effect he had on other people was stimulating, not depressing, except in moments of closest intimacy.