Wandering

I want to start by sharing this poem by Walcott. When I heard Heidi read it live on her WCBN show, in Ann Arbor, I was mesmerized. (She posts all her shows on her blog. You can click on her blog to check it out.) The way she read it made me feel like I was there, willing loved ones back from the dead.
Sea Canes By Derek Walcott

Half my friends are dead.
I will make you new ones, said earth
No, give me them back, as they were, instead,
with faults and all, I cried.
Tonight I can snatch their talk
from the faint surf's drone
through the canes, but I cannot walk
on the moonlit leaves of ocean
down that white road alone,
or float with the dreaming motion
of owls leaving earth's load.
O earth, the number of friends you keep
exceeds those left to be loved.
The sea-canes by the cliff flash green and silver;
they were the seraph lances of my faith,
but out of what is lost grows something stronger
that has the rational radiance of stone,
enduring moonlight, further than despair,
strong as the wind, that through dividing canes
brings those we love before us, as they were,
with faults and all, not nobler, just there

I had a roller-coaster-week. By Tuesday, I felt like I was not controlling the lever at all. I felt powerless to the ups and downs. I wanted to keep myself from the spirals down, but it was out of my hands, believe me. I just went for the ride and tried to think as positive as I could force myself to think. I gave up analizing and tried to pretend all was well while I was teaching. I've had years of practice in pretending, so I can put myself on auto-pilot pretty easily.

Do you ever feel like it's not really yours for the owning? That the dips and dives aren't really conscious moves? They're not in your power to change? By the time today came, I knew I had to have a plan. My first step was to get out of the apartment and on the move. Being out among the Saturday crowds in Istanbul makes me feel alive and part of a bigger picture than my small frame of reference.

I headed for the key-maker first. I had to have another set of keys! I've been pretty lucky, so far. I keep my set on the door handle so they get in my way when I go out.

I made my way through the rain. The rain runs between the cobblestones, but collects along the sides of the streets, so I had to be careful not to be too close to the traffic splashing by. And I watch ahead for drains that run straight down from the roofs and end on the walks every fifty feet or so. The water can gush out like a little waterfall sometimes. I left my umbrella home. It was too windy. It can be more like a sail in a storm than a way to keep dry.

The next stop I planned was the Kuaför, (beauty shop) I had to get my nails trimmed and my upper-lip hairs removed. Both of these things are pretty insignificant for me to bother with, normally. But, I do care how I look or appear professionally. And being an oğretman (teacher) in Turkey, neglect gets noticed. Since I'm not one to wear make-up, I try to keep my nails and facial hair looking well-groomed.

The last few times I went to a very nice place in Moda. But, today I decided to find this place Elizabeth and I found about a month ago and liked. It is smaller, and a LOT cheaper. I decided I could give a bigger tip to the girl who works on me instead of spending it all on the "appearance" of the place.

I didn't have an appointment, so I sat while writing and listening to the Turkish. An older man was talking to his young, female, employee in his "smoking-for-ages" raspy voice. He had a balding head and was wearing a pair of sweatpants with racing stripes on the side and a zipped-up hooded sweatshirt. He hadn't shaved yet and it was 11 a.m. She looked meticulously groomed and was dressed beautifully. I admit, he did take my coat for me and show me where I could sit. He then was doing some sort of matching game on the daily newspaper and talking to the customers as they came and went.

I guess I didn't pay for him to dress or look professional while his employees worked. I was paying for the service, not the extra I paid for the "appearance" of the shop on Moda Caddesi. The attention this young woman, Sonya, gave to me today was way above any time and attention I got at the other place. I even got a very nice hand massage when she was done with my nails....ahh...the human touch can sure calm the roller-coaster beast.

When I was done, I found a small cafe/kahve shop about a block down the hill and had some delicious leek soup and fresh rolls. This little cafe was perfection on my scale. The tables and chairs were old wooden ones. They had delicate lace runners with little herb plants on each table. There was a thin wooden shelf separating the tiny kitchen from the dining area. It was lined with small mason jars filled with different kinds of dried herbs. There was some Celtic sounding music with flutes and fiddles and many of the customers were chatting, reading and studying. It was a good sign. I could take my time and enjoy the warm atmosphere and write or sip on coffee after I ate, with no hurry.

I wandered and roamed around Kadiköy for hours after I left the cafe. I did some window shopping (I'm told the Turkish do not window shop), going in and out of interesting shops and feeling wet, but not alone. I even found a bookstore with a few used Ingiliz books I bought to read:
Undercurrents, by Marie Darrieussecq
Nothing But the Truth, a documentary novel by Avi
River Boy, by Tim Bowler

Interesting selection. I'm anxious to read them. It's about the same procedure I follow when I buy books in the U.S. I usually go to a used bookstore (or GoodWill) and look the books over and go for a random selection, unless I'm lucky to find an author I know is good.

My last stop before I went back home was my favorite store at the top of the hill from my apartment. It has been a landmark for me so many times when I was lost. I like to go in and look at notebooks, pens and office supply stuff. You probably won't understand the draw of this little store unless you have the compulsion to look at little notebooks, journals, writing, office things in a place like this.

This time I went in specifically for some artist paper and a nice set of pastels. I have been wanting to do some type of drawing/messing around with pastels. I was being proactive. I need to have something in the evening to help me loose myself in. A different avenue for my creativity and restlessness besides reading, singing and writing. I've been watching my students use pastels in school on a project with ocean animals. The colors really caught my attention and made me want to try them myself. I've watched Heidi use them over the years, too. I don't have any experience using them myself. But, I'm going to give it a try.

My mom, who is 85 this year, started sketching a few years ago. She is really getting good. She got a few books on sketching from the public libary. She learned how to play the harmonica at about 80 years old. Just watching and listening to her play thrills me. She's doing it for herself. Good lesson for anyone. So, I guess I can try a few new things myself.