Addendum: http://ocavusoglu.blogspot.co.uk/2009/01/stories-of-visa-application-addendum.html
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As you celebrate Christmas, Istanbul's having its first snow (sleet) of the year. I leave the application centre and seek solace at the Armenian Cemetery across the road. They do not let me in, claiming that it is forbidden. The guard probably thinks I'm one of the millions of ultra-natoinalists. After all, the 'leaders' of the state managed to divide this country.
I am neither optimistic nor pessimistic. It will probably take a month's time before I get the results. I had a last glance at the pictures on the wall of the application centre before I left: Tower Bridge, Houses of Parliament, London Eye, the Gherkin, the Vauxhall Junction and a picture from Scotland. All those places I know by heart, where I was a week ago, that we drove around, cycled through, wrote each other postcards beneath...
I made a mistake: I did not obey the manifestation on my immigration limitations. I came back to my family and friends and to my beloved country when I was told to stay there and proceed with my re-application. I risked my future residence, leaving behind a bunch of loved ones in that city. All else is some buildings, mountains and rivers that one can find anywhere.
Now I am at the hands of the politics of one of the greatest world empires that died long ago. I am also at the hands of their 2nd hand diplomacy in Istanbul, and at the hands of the sick bureaucracy of my very own country. Everything is ambigous as has always been the case on this land. The land of ambiguity. This is what people of here have long been feeding upon.
That was the reasoning of the guard at the Armenian Cemetery when he arbitrarily decided it's forbidden for me to enter. What he is repeatedly failing to see in his old and watery eyes of colour of burning black coal is that... that it is time to move on...
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As you celebrate Christmas, Istanbul's having its first snow (sleet) of the year. I leave the application centre and seek solace at the Armenian Cemetery across the road. They do not let me in, claiming that it is forbidden. The guard probably thinks I'm one of the millions of ultra-natoinalists. After all, the 'leaders' of the state managed to divide this country.
I am neither optimistic nor pessimistic. It will probably take a month's time before I get the results. I had a last glance at the pictures on the wall of the application centre before I left: Tower Bridge, Houses of Parliament, London Eye, the Gherkin, the Vauxhall Junction and a picture from Scotland. All those places I know by heart, where I was a week ago, that we drove around, cycled through, wrote each other postcards beneath...
I made a mistake: I did not obey the manifestation on my immigration limitations. I came back to my family and friends and to my beloved country when I was told to stay there and proceed with my re-application. I risked my future residence, leaving behind a bunch of loved ones in that city. All else is some buildings, mountains and rivers that one can find anywhere.
Now I am at the hands of the politics of one of the greatest world empires that died long ago. I am also at the hands of their 2nd hand diplomacy in Istanbul, and at the hands of the sick bureaucracy of my very own country. Everything is ambigous as has always been the case on this land. The land of ambiguity. This is what people of here have long been feeding upon.
That was the reasoning of the guard at the Armenian Cemetery when he arbitrarily decided it's forbidden for me to enter. What he is repeatedly failing to see in his old and watery eyes of colour of burning black coal is that... that it is time to move on...
3 comments:
break-a-leg!
I say, screw London. You should get re-accustomed to the bliss of being "primus inter pares" in an unequal society, and start enjoying your life in Istanbul.
Yeah, screw London. But not before taking another deep breath of its polluted, yet mesmerising air. If every bet is against you, don't hesitate but let the games begin!
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