Unguided Blog

I lived in Romania as an expat for nearly three years. Although I can eat virtually anything (especially if I’m hungry), we used to go to a Turkish restaurant where we can find fish, I mean the ones we like, otherwise local fish (from lakes and rivers, occasionally from Black Sea) were plenty. After a visit or two, the Romanian staff quickly learned our favorites and all we had to was to choose the fish of the day.

One day, or rather night, we learned that the truck bringing the fish had a problem at the Customs. Not very much surprised as ordering anything and everything from the truckers in order avoid the unnecessary customs formalities (futile barriers against free trade, how pathetic) was a long standing Turkish tradition, we simply cursed our luck for that day’s truck was not coming from Greece, the other fish supplying country. The Greek, being law abiding visitors would have brought the fish (You did not believe that, did you? Good!).

Well, this unfortunate incident unfortunately disrupted our usual routine with the staff. While my friend ordered chicken, I took a pause to decide and I heard the waitress say:

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63 years ago, yesterday.

I thought of translating the poem about the pledge of a seven year old girl who died in Hiroshima, but it would be gross injustice to Nazim Hikmet, the poet. If you can find a copy in your language, do read it, please.

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This whole thing, the Creationist ideology that is, really amazes me. It reminds me the confused state our beautiful government is in. Whatever they or the people of science claim, it may very well be the artist who has the final say in the whereabouts of our origin.

Halil Bey was the Ottoman ambassador to Paris in the 1880’s. Born in Egypt, he was a great art lover and known to order paintings from popular artists of the time; unlike today, ambassadors were paid very well in those days. Like most of us, he had a few flaws in character, though, one of which happened to be gambling.

Gustave Courbet, the renowned painter, gave “Origine du Monde” to Halil Bey as a present when he delivered “Sleep”, the painting Halil bey had ordered. From the names of the paintings, one could tell they had another flaw in common.

Anyway, upon declaring Chapter 11 or whatever its equivalent those days, Halil Bey had to return to Istanbul in 1888 and his collection were sold to cover his debts.

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