The Otogar

I left the beach town of Kas and headed to Cappadocia (Kapadokya), the land of fairy chimneys. Nancy saw me to the minibus and off I went along the curvy highway along the Mediterranean, the driver honking as needed, or more often, being honked at as cars passed us by as we shuddered uphill. I arrived at the otogar, or bus station, in Antalya, a large modern looking city where I would catch an overnight bus to Goreme in Cappadocia. I had six and half hours to wait, and had decided not to try to navigate the city's transportation system with my huge pack. So, I had a long time to sit.

The otogar, as it turned out, was a node for cultural examination (the anthropologist in me has been surfacing a lot lately). All sorts of people travel by bus here- tourists from all over the world, small town traditional folk with their belongings carried in blue crates and plastic bags, stylish Muslim women with the latest head scarf and long coat fashion, modern city women with thick makeup, styled hair, and high, sharp heels, young men annoyingly eager to practice their English, families with smiling babies, educated Istanbulites, the whole gamut. Watching all the people, such a variety of self-presentation, such an amalgamation of values, I had to ask, who decides what is appropriate?

The government here has been trying to pass a law that says women are not allowed to wear scarves in places such as universities. The law is specific, but really it is a general push for change. Understandably, it is very controversial. I hear tales of conservatism in Konya (which happens to be the birthplace of Rumi, the poet of love), where non-Muslim Turkish women have been mistreated. Society is inherently conservative, no matter where you are. Acting different, regardless of how outrageous, will almost always attract disapproval, if not outright rejection. Acting different has been cause of violence and excommunication the world over. There is a gray area between being an individual and not disturbing the well being with uniqueness. As a foreigner reprimanded (albeit in a friendly way) by a Turkish policeman for stretching on the lawn in front of the otogar, I wonder, how much should I alter my behavior to avoid causing offence or annoyance by the people of this country? Where and when is it more important to sacrifice the creative, unique self (and perhaps sacrifice a potential to open others' eyes to something new) to maintain order and societal cohesiveness? I feel blessed to ave my home in a place where uniqueness is expected.

I remember philosophical talks from the night before over tiramisu and two nargilehs. Our friend Onur commented that when the people are ready, ideas will spring up and change will come. Sometimes this coagulates in the genious of an individual (and no, I'm not talking about Obama). I am afraid that America is not ready to change; our people are lost in sprees of infinite shopping, denying the role they play in their own lives. Everyone is searching for something to give meaning to their lives. It is interesting to see a new type of conservatism here. Here it is religion. In America it is 'consumer.'