Fieldwork

What I most like about doing research is traveling around. The first country I have traveled from Turkey was Azerbaijan. I traveled there for a field work on internet and democratization. I did in-depth interviews and worked from early morning to late at night since I had to fit to the schedules of my informants, and most of the time they were talking so much and sending me to some other people. My host was a nice lady, a russian language teacher, azeri nationalist, hard working, open minded person. She told me on the weekend-- you cant work everyday! You have a right to rest and you should visit holy places when you travel to some new place. It is good and a necessity for your psychology. So she took me to the museum, zoroaster temple, a mosque... and to a wedding of her relative. I danced with the people and the bride at the wedding. And with joy sent a message to my boss (I was working as a researcher at a center in the university) with a picture of me dancing. Saying it has been a great opprtunity and thanking her... I returned to Ankara and was sent to United Kingdom, to do research on the networking of Turkish speaking community by the Institute where I was writing my masters. My boss told me-- you wont find a wedding to dance in the UK. The first days we spent in Oxfordand when we went to London to do the field work, the first night we went to Cemevi (religous center of Alevis) and encountered a circumcision feast and I danced with the people and took a picture to send to my boss. I wrote to her-- you can never know what you will come across in the field.
So after this I was more comfortable, more open minded, and enjoyed every minute of field work travels. Because I knew-- anyhting could happen and it will be informative for my work and good feeling for my soul.
My third field work outside of Turkey was to Romania, to understand the determining factors of identity of the Crimean Tatars. I came across the tennis team of my university (who I very well knew since I spent a lot of time at the courts) in a bus stop on the way to Costanza. There I swam in the Blacksea and not much enjoyed the feeling of saltless brownish-blackish dirty water.
From there I travelled to Budapest, Vienna, and Prag as a backpacker. I Budapest I spent time with the most intersting group of people, all from different places and danced for more than 6 hours in a bar. To Vienna I arrived on a sunday and everywhere was closed. I did not like it much there and I moved to Prag. There I did not enjoy much the houses and details since I had heard about them so much and after this root it was kind of boring. However, I enjoyed a variety of modern art exhibitions and I dream of organizing one in Abkhazia in a near future. When I arrived to Stutgart, Germany- I had only one Euro left in my pocket with which I called my aunt and asked her to pick me up at the train station.
I traveled to Poland from Germany. Before attending a conference in Krakow, I visited my best friend from university in Szcezcin, who was visiting her family at the time. At the conference in Krakow, I met a very interesting researcher from Israel and we walked in Zakopane mountains.
Later, I traveled for the first time to the Caucasus- to Adyghea. Stayed there for 3 months, enjoyed real good friendships as well as many troubles but managed to write my dissertation with the help of sisters* and big brother* there (*very distant cousins in European senses) .
I saw all Adyghea in two months while I was doing research.
After a year I quitted my job, than finished my masters and decided to travel the world for three months. My friend suggested I start my travel from Abkhazia. And I said --why not! And that is how my life changed.
coming soon: field work in Abkhazia

Yes, today I cried. And I am not shamed of it...

Today, I cried. Most of the day I had been crying. Sometimes I tried to hold myself. I could not. The reason was not the ongoing effect of the death of Abkhazia's hero and symbol of independence...
The reason was not the jobs, reports and proposals I got to finish...
The reason was not the village heads that promised to call, or meet but didn't to give me the questionnaires they were supposed to fill in...
The reason was not the death of an elderly woman I knew, who had lost her son just a few weeks back...
It was a book. It was a memoir of an Abkhaz war veteran from Turkey, Bekir Ashba- I am cold (Üşüyorum)... There are so many thing to tell about it. But I would not like to destroy the feeling of it. Oh yes, it creates such a feeling that I could not leave it aside except for the minutes I looked for handkerchiefs and except for the moment I could not see anything because of my wet eyes. Don't think of this book as a book that agitates, that tries to make you cry. It is just the pure feelings and memories of a man- no I am sorry-- of a boy, who has lived SELF-REALIZATION of his Abkhaz identity, and Caucasian origins; who has become a pro-return Cherkess; who has lived the reality of WAR, death of friends; conflicts with father, family, elderly and friends; the breaking of his heart when he could not be in both with his family and with his country at once...
I could finish reading this book today. But I had to stop. To breath in the realities of the time... I stopped reading. Because I know what will come next, just with the earned victory, more loss, more pain...
Today I cried. Not for something that happened. Not for something that can happen. I cried for today I am living here in Abkhazia, free, comfortable, with hope and expectations, thanks to people like those in that memoir, who put their hearts on independence and freedom of their homeland. Yes, I cried. and I am not shamed of it.

Sometimes words are not enough

I know that there is a need to make a connection with my previous post before going on with ordinary life. Though life is running, I can not say it is back to normal. And it wont be so easy to be back to normal...
Just two days ago we were in Muk village doing some interviews on agriculture with the villagers. The first house, I entered with my interviewer Mramza, who had not that much of an experience (she is working at the university and never found the chance).
So we were met by the bride of the house in the garden and than invited inside. The father of the house greeted us şnfront of the house. The first thing he said "I am very sorry but I have drank, i am coming from a funeral. And I have been very sad lately. You know we have lost our great leader, hero Ardzynba just recently. And I saw you both at the funeral, it was on TV. But everyone was there..." " Yes everyone was there" responded Mramza... We entered and she started the interview. Than, in the middle a guest arrived and the topic again returned to Ardzynba. The old man's words were just like what a friend had told me on the day he died: "I feel like I have lost a son". Similar remembrance words were repeated in many of the houses we visited. Ardzynba was a family member. And he will stay that way in people's memories...
I got a lot of things to tell about the field work. But today still is not the right time. Besides they are doing some repairs in electric power station and we have constant balckouts... Maybe tomorrow the sun will help me find the right words. Oh yes, the weather is warm here. Spring has arrived here already.