® Berat Yardimci 

Karpatos - Dodecanese Island (ENG)  

July 15. Wednesday - Arkasa 

You’re full of winding paths. You look beautiful hill after hill; you have greenish deep blue eyes. Hopppp laaa laaaaa Trilaaa laaaa .You draw a picture of natural wonders, painted in multiple tones of green and blue. 

® Berat Yardimci 

You love the travelers in every inch of your island; after all, they’re visiting you. In return, you give them the smell of pine trees on the mountain roads. Among your macchia bushes, you blow dark coffee dust into the island. You show the most natural color in your water. The stones thrown into it create a dance of shadows and waves. And its color purifies people’s heart. 

In Kyra Panagia, a man paints the picture of a church with a terracotta dome. 

® Berat Yardimci 

On our way, we come across Ms. Artemis. From Aperi, Othos, or Piles; she lives in the middle of the mountains from one these beautiful villages. She keeps us company, and we do the same to her. We keep talking and talking, and we forget to drop her by the airport. We lose ourselves into the long Turkish-Greek conversation. We talk about Alexis Tsipras, about Sultan Suleiman’s canonical law; she explains us how much Greeks love Sultan Suleiman’s series and other Turkish series whose names I’ve forgotten. At a certain time, Miss Artemis talks about her husband, how he lost his life during an eye surgery nine years ago. An error caused by the incorrect distillation of a liquid. After losing her husband, this strong woman has been taking care of their daughter and is now dealing with the challenge of educating a rebellious 15-year-older, and living with her the beauty of life itself. I think of my father. When I was just a little boy he had an eye surgery, I can just remember how hard it was for everybody but I can’t recall further details. My mom was always telling how this though surgery destroyed my father’s entire psychology. However, God forgave my father, He forgave us all. I decided not to say it out loud, maybe what my father lost cannot compare to Ms. Artemis’ loss, and I don’t want to fall from grace with her. Intense blue churches suddenly appear in our way on each and every street of Karphatos. There are candles in all of them, shining and burning with prayers or begging for forgiveness. Spotless, pure and snow-white… just as Greek people. 

We arrive at Olympus on July 16. Thursday. You’re a poem whose text is the water flowing through the mountains. A bunch of different traditional colors paint your houses beautifully with a fresh and clean smell. 

® Berat Yardimci 

Going deep into the alley, slightly climbing up, the sound of a lyre coming from a tavern takes me to Trabzon, Rize and Artvin; to the green high hills of the mountains by the Black Sea. It’s almost the movement and melody from the Black Sea. Through the window, we dive into a different world, a world with an indigo sky and a blue sea, a world known as Greece.  Olympus is a poem written by the Mediterranean and Aegean intersecting hills. The women’s hair here is very long, two or three inches below the waist. The long white hair of this nice woman from one of the villages in Karphatos is one of the most beautiful colors I’ve ever seen. Her hair dances with the breeze. I had never felt this breeze or sensed this smell anywhere else before.

Shrubs, green bushes and pines trees hit by the sunlight impose a sensation of happiness. The fields in Karphatos make me fall in love with them.  Karphatos, you’re the girl God chose for me to marry. 

® Berat Yardimci 

Kárpatos - Isla del Dodecaneso ® Berat Yardimci 

15 de julio. Kárpatos, estás llena de caminos sinuosos. Luces hermosa colina tras colina. Tus ojos profundos tienen un color verde y azul a la vez. Hoppp laaa laaaaa Trilaaa laaaa. Pintas un cuadro de maravillas naturales, con múltiples tonos de verde y azul.

® Berat Yardimci 

Amas a los viajeros que se encuentran en cada centímetro de tu isla. Ellos te visitan y, a cambio, tú les obsequias el olor de los pinos en los caminos de la montaña. Tus arbustos de maquia exhalan polvo de café de su interior hacia la isla. Muestras el color más natural en tus aguas. Cuando una piedra es arrojada en éstas, se crea una danza de sombras y ondas. Su color limpia el corazón de las personas. 

En Kyra Panagia un hombre pinta la imagen de una iglesia con un domo color terracota. 

® Berat Yardimci 

En nuestro camino conocemos a la señorita Artemis. De Aperi, Othos o Piles; ella vive entre las montañas de una de estas hermosas villas. Ella nos acompaña y nosotros a ella. Hablamos y hablamos, y olvidamos dejarla cerca del aeropuerto. Nos perdemos en la larga conversación turco-griega. Hablamos de Alexis Tsipras, también de las leyes Kanun del Sultán Solimán; nos explica cuánto adoran los griegos la serie sobre el Sultán Solimán y otras series turcas cuyos nombres he olvidado. En un determinado momento la señorita Artemis habla de su esposo, de cómo éste perdió la vida en una cirugía ocular nueve años atrás. Un error provocado por la destilación incorrecta de un líquido. Después de perder a su esposo, esta valiente mujer ha cuidado de su hija y ahora se encuentra frente a la ardua labor de educar a una adolescente rebelde de quince años, y vivir con ella la belleza de la vida misma. Pienso en mi padre. Cuando yo era sólo un niño él tuvo una cirugía ocular; sólo recuerdo cuán difícil fue para todos, pero no puedo acordarme de nada más. Mi mamá siempre estaba diciendo que esta intrincada cirugía destruyó por completo la psicología de mi padre. Sin embargo, Dios perdonó a mi padre, nos perdonó a todos. Decidí no decirlo, tal vez lo que mi padre perdió no puede compararse con la pérdida de Artemis y no quiero caer de su gracia. Iglesias de un azul intenso aparecen repentinamente en nuestro camino, en todas y cada una de las calles de Kárpatos. Hay velas en todas ellas, brillando y ardiendo con plegarias o suplicando perdón en sus flamas. Pulcras, puras y cándidas… tal como las personas griegas. 

Llegamos al Olimpo el 16 de julio. Eres un poema cuyo texto es el agua que fluye en las montañas. Un manojo de diversos colores tradicionales pintan hermosamente tus casas con un olor fresco y limpio. 

® Berat Yardimci 

Adentrándonos en un callejón, yendo cuesta arriba un poco, el sonido de una lira proveniente de una taberna me transporta a Trebisonda, Rize y Artvin; a las verdes colinas de las altas montañas cerca del Mar Negro. Es casi el movimiento y la melodía del Mar Negro. Al otro lado de la ventana nos encontramos en un mundo distinto, un mundo con un cielo añil y un mar azul, un mundo conocido como Grecia. El monte Olimpo es un poema escrito por la confluencia de las colinas del Mediterráneo y el Egeo. El cabello de las mujeres es muy largo aquí, dos o tres pulgadas por debajo de la cintura. 

® Berat Yardimci 

El largo cabello blanco de esta agradable mujer de una de las villas de Kárpatos es uno de los colores más bellos que he visto. 

Su cabello baila con la brisa. Nunca antes había sentido . 

® Berat Yardimci 

PURA VIDA, MAYE

I finished one week in Montezuma in “Centro Educativo Montezuma” and ASVO. The people here are very nice, they’re poor but they can smile. They have a very different soul, language and culture. It must be that near the Equator, people and life get warmer. The clouds flow, the sun rises and the moon shines differently. This is a very hot country, among beautiful and moist tropical rains. There are few weeks till summer. I’m going to see the Latin summer for the first time. The work is intensive in the Lora turtle conservatory: we release baby turtles into the sea; we measure their weight and height. In our farm, we open their homes under the sand. We write reports. We constantly check them, in fact, see them free in the Pacific Ocean is the true definition of happiness. May God grant us such a life. We help turtle mothers leave their eggs. It’s a very real and meaningful process. However, the ecosystem and nature get a little damaged so we can get benefits. For tiny turtles to become huge 100-kilos turtles more than ten years are required. The small turtles are more moving and excited, while turtle mothers are more tranquil, slow and more controlled. Their lives, whether their youth, their childhood or their adult stage, you can see them all here at the same time; while you can see the babies in the morning, you get to observe the mothers’ work at night and witness the cycle of life. Our organization’s name is ASVO. Here, besides me, there’s a Mexican, two French nationals, one Swiss, eight Germans and the rest of the people are Costa Ricans; in total, over fifteen people work here together. 

My main duty is teaching English to children; my first and second grade kids play to learn English, they dance, I share vital time with them. The most beautiful part of the job is that I learn from them as well, I learn from their intelligence. My aim is treating them all equally and teaching with justice. Each of them is a different world; these kids’ capacity to learn is wonderful. At least keeping creativity in their hands is enough. For the first time after several years I come back to elementary school, I sit with in the same line. The first thing that comes to my mind and heart is how I used to sit in that line with fear and surprise when I was a child. Then the boy or girl sitting next you asks you for a pen or a piece of paper, you exchange some sentences and that’s how friendships begin to develop and the fear from school disappears. Our elementary school is the first place where we are thrown into life. The first place where we socialize, the first place where we establish friendships, the first time when our teachers make us compete against our classmates in an institution, elementary school. The institutions where we experience our first loves and disappointments are elementary schools.

I think that the elementary school in Montezuma is a little different from other elementary schools. Kids here may get involved into the drug world so in order to prevent that from happening, in the elementary school of Montezuma we prepare every day sport activities, music lessons, tours to the turtle farm or other enterprises to guide the students to the right path. I think this is not a problem that solely happens in Montezuma Elementary School but something that can be commonly seen in Latin-America. When it comes to me, I feel myself a student. But that’s old history, this time I’m here with them as an adult student with a lot of experience. Both to teach them English and to learn Spanish with them, I’ve token an important step in my life by teacher for the first time; in my school life the most beautiful period to me has been my addiction to languages. The first graders’ names are: Héctor Manuel, Boyana, Eliot, Juan Carlos, Valentina, Ana Gabriela, Ana Luz, Kendall, Isabella Rojas, Beatrice… 

They are all nice kids with special needs and particular interests each. I’m writing this article in the classroom while they’re in their English class recess. The names of these wonderful children are written on owl-shaped pink and blue papers hanging on the wall. Among them, Isabella Rojas did something very interesting today and she roll called on her own. Kids are smart as a whip. The new generation of children is different. They are unbelievably intelligent. Juan Carlos is an out of the ordinary character. He is dyslexic, he understands a little late and reads late, he’s lagged behind compared to the others. He requires a little more attention than the rest. I guess I’m getting a little emotional about it; I bend slightly towards Juan Carlos. Héctor Manuel is other of my smart students. This kid has an athletic body and a sharp mind, he moves all the time. And he thinks and writes quickly, according to the others. Valentina is more emotional, so emotional and she can use her intellectual intelligence in such a smooth way. It seems to me like if I were watching my own elementary school friends; each of them resembles a kid from here. I wonder if over time human beings are affected by the people we love, whether they’re our teachers, family or friends, and start to act like them or if we can choose to stay away from their influence. 

San José, December 24, 2014 

In San Jose I came across a very particular café by the sidewalk. As every song, every place reminds me of my friends, my beloved ones, my loves. Café Rojo reminds me of Daleska’s curly and fluffy hair, it brings that image to my eyes. 

I remember the long conversations I had with Daleska. Here by the cacti she tells me the sad story about her mother. Costa Rica, Pura Vida, a different world, a different dream. The wind contains the Latin smell of Costa Rica, a palm trees and high mountains aroma. This place is full of Latin fragrance accompanied with coconut scent. This sweet and fresh smell sweetly wraps the spirit of people’s hearts. The Pacific Ocean, the palm trees and colorful orchids decorate San Jose. The “Josefinas”, the Costa Rican women, possess a mestizo beauty. Their race has a mix of Pre-Columbian, Aztec, Inca and Panamanian blood. While travelling enriches my soul, my eyes go crazy about the places. My eyes are not enough; I take a moment, an image, a picture of every place. The colors of Costa Rica are like a rainbow; the wings of the pelicans, the toucans and the owls reflect the abundance of color. 

Costa Rica is a hummingbird paradise, these birds are in the park, under several trees; you can come across them almost everywhere. These tiny and chirping birds fly quickly and their hearts beat very fast. Not only the birds, but various colours of snakes all move around, which is pretty crazy. The tropics hold many natural wonders, some dazzling and flamboyant, others, small and intangible. It is not too difficult to find such marvels in a place such as Costa Rica. With just a little practice, some of the most amazing jewels of the rainforest can be found just a few feet away, within arms reach, and definitely within earshot. Those cute colourful frogs in the nature of Costa Rica is one of the main paintings of this geography. 

PURA VIDA, MAYE (ESPANOL) 

En Montezuma concluí una semana en el Centro Educativo Montezuma y ASVO. Las personas ahí son muy amables, son pobres pero pueden sonreír. Tienen almas, un clima, un idioma y una cultura muy diferentes. Debe de ser que al estar cerca del Ecuador, la vida y las personas son más cálidas. Las nubes fluyen de otra forma, el sol sale de un modo distinto, la luna brilla diferente. Éste en un país muy caluroso, entre hermosas y húmedas lluvias tropicales. Hay pocas semanas veraniegas. Veré el verano latino por primera vez. El trabajo es intenso en el conservatorio de tortugas lora: liberamos tortugas bebés al mar, medimos su peso y altura. En nuestra granja abrimos sus hogares bajo la arena. Escribimos reportes. Constantemente las revisamos, de hecho, el verlas libres en el Océano Pacífico es la definición de la felicidad. Que Dios nos conceda una vida así. Ayudamos a las mamás tortugas a dejar sus huevos. Es un proceso muy significativo y real. Sin embargo, el ecosistema y la naturaleza se ven un poco afectados en nuestro beneficio. Para que diminutas crías se conviertan en enormes tortugas de 100 kilos se necesitan más de diez años. Las tortugas pequeñas son más activas y animadas mientras que las mamás tortugas son más tranquilas, lentas y más controladas. Sus vidas, tanto su juventud como su infancia y su edad adulta, aquí las puedes ver todas a la vez; mientras que en las mañanas se ven a los bebés, por las noches se observa el trabajo de las madres y eres testigo del ciclo de la vida. El nombre de nuestra organización es ASVO. Aquí, además de mí, hay un mexicano, dos franceses, un suizo, ocho alemanes y el resto son costarricenses; en total, más de quince personas trabajamos en conjunto. Mi función principal es enseñar inglés a niños; mis niños de primer y segundo grado juegan para aprender inglés, bailan, yo comparto tiempo vital con ellos. Lo más hermoso del trabajo es que yo también aprendo de ellos, tanto de su frescura como de sus corazones a los que los importan los errores, aprendo de su inteligencia. Mi meta es tratarlos a todos por igual y enseñar con justicia. Cada uno de ellos es un mundo diferente, la capacidad de aprender de estos niños es maravillosa. Por lo menos mantener la creatividad en sus manos es suficiente. Por primera vez después de varios años vuelvo a la primaria, me siento con ellos en la misma fila. La primera cosa que llega a mi mente y  a mi corazón es cómo me sentaba en esa fila con miedo y sorpresa cuando era un niño. Después el niño o niña que se sienta junto a ti te pide un lápiz o un papel, intercambian algunas frases y es así como comienzan a formarse las amistades y el temor a la escuela desaparece. Nuestra escuela primaria es el primer lugar al que somos lanzados en la vida. El primer lugar en el que socializamos, el primer lugar en el que establecemos amistades, la primera vez en que nuestros maestros nos hacen competir con nuestros compañeros en una institución, la escuela primaria. Las instituciones donde experimentamos nuestros primeros amores y nuestras primeras decepciones son las escuelas primarias. Yo creo que la escuela primaria de Montezuma es un lugar un poco diferente comparado con otras primarias. Los niños aquí podrían verse involucrados en el mundo de las drogas, así que para evitar eso, en la primaria de Montezuma cada día preparamos actividades deportivas, clases de música, visitas a la granja de tortugas u otras actividades para guiar a los estudiantes por el camino correcto. Yo creo que este tema no es un problema aislado a la Escuela Primaria de Montezuma, sino que puede ser visto de manera común también en Latinoamérica. Si hablamos de mí, me siento yo mismo un estudiante. Pero eso ya es historia antigua, esta vez estoy con ellos como un estudiante adulto con mucha experiencia. Tanto para enseñarles inglés como para aprender español con ellos he dado un paso importante en mi vida al enseñar por primera vez; en mi vida educativa el periodo más hermoso para mí ha sido mi adicción a los idiomas. Los nombres de los alumnos de primer grado son Héctor Manuel, Boyana, Eliot, Juan Carlos, Valentina, Ana Gabriela, Ana Luz, Kendall, Isabella Rojas, Beatrice… Todos son niños geniales con necesidades e intereses especiales a cada uno. Estoy escribiendo este artículo en el salón mientras ellos se encuentran en el receso de su clase de inglés. Los nombres de estos maravillosos niños están escritos en papeles con forma de búhos rosas y azules colgados de la pared. De entre ellos, Isabella Rojas hizo algo muy interesante hoy y pasó lista por su cuenta. Los niños son más listos que un ajo. La nueva generación de niños es diferente. Son increíblemente inteligentes. Juan Carlos es un personaje fuera de lo común. Él es disléxico, razona un poco tarde y lee tardíamente, se rezaga en comparación con los demás. Él requiere un poco más de atención que el resto. Supongo que me estoy poniendo sentimental al respecto, me inclino ligeramente hacia Juan Carlos. Héctor Manuel es otro de los alumnos inteligentes. Este niño de cuerpo atlético tiene un ingenio agudo y se la pasa moviéndose. Y piensa y escribe rápidamente, de acuerdo a los otros. Valentina es más emocional, tan emocional y puede usar su inteligencia intelectual de un modo tan fluido. Me parece ver a mis propios amigos de la primaria, cada uno de ellos se parece a un niño de aquí. Me pregunto si los seres humanos después de un tiempo nos vemos afectados por las personas que amamos, ya sean nuestros maestros, nuestra familia o nuestros amigos, y comenzamos a parecernos a ellos o si podemos elegir mantenernos al margen sin su influencia.

San José, 24 de diciembre del 2014

En San José me encontré con un café muy particular a la orilla del camino. Como cada canción, cada lugar me trae recuerdos de mis amigos, de mis personas amadas, de mis amores. El Café Rojo me recuerda el cabello rizado y esponjoso de Daleska, trae esa imagen a mis ojos. Recuerdo las largas pláticas que tuve con Daleska. Aquí cerca de los cactus me cuenta la triste historia de su madre. Costa Rica, Pura Vida, otro mundo, otro sueño. El viento contiene el olor latino de Costa Rica, un aroma de palmeras y altas montañas. Este lugar está lleno de fragancia latina acompañada de esencia de coco. Este olor dulce y fresco envuelve dulcemente el espíritu de los corazones de las personas. El Océano Pacífico, las palmeras y coloridas orquídeas adornan San José. Las josefinas, las mujeres de Costa Rica, tienen una belleza mestiza. Su raza tiene una mezcla de sangre precolombina, azteca, inca y panameña. Mientras que el viajar enriquece mi alma, mis ojos enloquecen con los lugares. Mis ojos no bastan, de cada lugar tomo un momento, una imagen, una fotografía. Los colores de Costa Rica son como un arcoíris; las alas de los pelicanos, de los tucanes y de los búhos reflejan la abundancia de color. Costa Rica es un paraíso de colibríes, estas aves están en el parque, bajo algunos árboles; en casi todos lados pueden toparse con ellos. Estas aves son diminutas y chirriantes, vuelan rápidamente y sus corazones laten con gran velocidad.   

ON THE ROADS OF LYCIA - September 2014

              Another trip, another book, another stories. I am in the house of Ahmet, Spikey on a sofa of old Anatolian style. CouchSurfing Spirit. I can sleep anywhere. On floor, wood and on land. I am in  Cerci village, on the outskirts of Kaş, I'm at heights 300-350 meters above sea level. This is so natural, roosters, chickens, sheeps are walking around. In my pillow there is smell of pillow where I slept in İspir, Erzurum. As human ages, he wants less sleep and desire more to see new places. I want to tell more and share more. Mehmet and Laureen meet me in old Kas port. They drink malt beers in an Fiat-tipo car. 

Mehmet works in Kaş Marina. We enter to road from old Kaş port and pass rough and hubby roads and arrive to Flag area where a big Turkish flag is waved. Scene is wonderful. Kaş is under our feet. While we drink our beers we put our feet under cliff, and we enjoy the freedom of wind blowing to our spirits. Our topic we share are; Kaş, Israel, Chicago, future, urbanization, constructions, globalization and speed. That is the moment we are lost. She tells me about the port cities Eilat, Chicago and Michigan. I asked about Eliat how was it. How is its water? Laureen tells about red sea. She is a member of American Jewish family, her origins is Askhenazi, dating back to Poland and Germany where they migrated from. Next cities are Ashdod, Jerusalem, West Bank. Naturally we make comments about demeanors of today’s Israeli government. When it comes to politics there is a silence and we go quiet. Our next step is Academy of Dreams. 

Summer camp where our disabled brothers & sisters live. I am so lucky that I have found opportunity to see this beautiful place two days before the camp ends. I take a trip to the library which I fell in love, where I have wanted to sleep between the pages of those many books. We chat with children with Down syndrome and spastics.

             My sincerity with them starts in meal, their trainers two sweet girls say that I should sit near them I could make better conversation. I like temporary tattoos on Gönül’s arm and I tell her then she look better and differently. She smiles inside her eyes. A young boy, whose name i can’t remember reads a disabled poem. Even I am not that good to read a poem like that. How he is smart and he like poems, it is even a long one. There is fat boy at the end of the table. Brother what is your name he shouts? Brother Berat, are you a body builder? Very sincere, he says I will also start to the bodybuilding. Waves hit land. If you ask me he is smarter than me, Berna and Yasemin teacher. I take other trips to the extended garden. They have beach volleyball fields climbing areas and football pitch and basketball areas. It is like another world here, so large, green and clean. With abundance oxygen, this camp presents human serenity and silences. We start for night chatting on wood chairs made of crapped woods. Chatting circulates from one point to another. Wherever the wind takes us. Berna teacher was so sincere and shared her their two months period in camp of dreams. I like this very much and I tell her about my project to visit other parts of the world for helping. She says no need to go such far, we also need people here around. How man’s life is sufficient for such projects, how to reach hearths and hands of other people.  In this camp question to be asked is that: what do humans need in fact? And how much these children, our disabled friends need us? We all need each other whether we are disabled or not. Life needs us and we need life. People accept to need as something vulnerability and not disgraceful. Today’s human struggle, is to be able to be self-sufficient. Life is faster than before, and human should work so much in a short time and they think that human should produce most of the time. General belief is that nobody needs anybody is the most correct way of living.  Deep issues, humanity is concerned, the most sensitive point. Maybe, while there are such disabled people in need of others to this extent, to talk about other needs is very painful and very impertinent. I thank to Mehmet for he bringing me here and Kaş means Academy of Dreams for me, from now on.

            Republican square of Kaş is the most authentic part of Kaş.  

While there are construction in hills, this area is full of Ottoman and Greek houses with balconies which protected old architecture. There is an old bookstore, many shops selling old things and a few shops. I meet with Ms. Feride in an old book store and we talk about old Kaş. She says they collect Kaş photos from leading families of Kaş and they have their prints. Very nostalgic, in Kaş of 1950s and 1970s there are 7-8 houses near old Kaş port. Today, skirts of mountains covering this are over constructed.  Maybe I came here in the best possible season. Then we walk some streets and go back to Cerci village. We watch the town with night wind and night lights. Water melon that Spikey cut and delivered maybe is the tastiest one I ate recently. Spikey lays down on chair, I get pleasure of the night and I read İlber Ortaylı’s Old World Travels book… My friend accompanied me during my Kaş travel my book and my good spirit fiend Ceren Özbaylı. We are in the roads of Lycia with many shades of blue and green all around us.