{"id":62154,"date":"2012-10-25T17:00:02","date_gmt":"2012-10-25T21:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/?p=62154"},"modified":"2012-10-27T08:52:06","modified_gmt":"2012-10-27T12:52:06","slug":"imece-imece","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/fe-911-2\/imece-imece\/","title":{"rendered":"Imece, Imece"},"content":{"rendered":"

Last night, I dreamed I was on the Istiklal again. Istiklal, short for Istiklal Caddesi<\/em> (Iz-tee-klal je-de-suh), is the main street of Istanbul’s Beyoglu district in the European side of the city. <\/p>\n

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In my dream I was walking with thousands of other pedestrians on this vehicle-free runway, walking with the men with their pushcarts carrying produce to nearby neighborhoods and vendors selling roasted chestnuts, borek<\/em> and bagels on the streets. <\/p>\n

Musicians played and young girls were looking for shoes at Nine West. Great bookstores still line the Iztiklal, and if you go further west, there begins a neighborhood where nothing but musical instruments are sold. The air was filled with smoke and fresh breeze from the Bosphorus. Families, students, people on their way to and from work: the street was bustling, determined and peaceful.<\/p>\n

I embraced Istanbul, a 2,700 year old city whose culture and contributions are deeply imbedded in the history of European and Asian civilizations. It’s a crossroads city, with a variety of people, tastes, ideas, love of knowledge and traditions that with time and tolerance has mellowed into an empire that has faded but never died. But of all the foods, customs, ideas and concepts that were native to Istanbul and all of Turkey there was one idea, one concept that seemed to wind its way around the city, layer itself deep into its heart and ultimately touch mine. The concept was imece.<\/em><\/p>\n

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Imece<\/em> (im-eh-cheh) is the name of the Turkish tradition of community collaboration on an individual\u2019s work or need for help. It is the spirit of imece guiding villagers to participate in the overall organization of a local marriage ceremony, including party planning, the reception hall, the wedding feast, and the building of the new house for the newlyweds. <\/p>\n

In big cities imece is practiced as a guiding principle, with people helping each other for free. Most anywhere else, especially in the US, this would be unthinkable without proper pay. But imece<\/em> is a kind of volunteerism where reciprocity is expected. This is the core belief of a community’s civility. <\/p>\n

With Turkey’s rugged terrain in its cities and rural areas, practicing this custom from this core belief is a necessity. Just walking the hills of the city’s narrow streets is difficult enough for young and old without assistance. Navigating through a complex city with 15 million people of various cultures, languages and religions needs a certain level of finesse. Therefore, you cannot even imagine road rage, horns blaring or traffic police. Cooperation is necessary for survival. Our pushy American need for speed and aggression to reach what we want at all costs has absolutely no place here.<\/p>\n

Even though it has been the capital of four empires over 26 centuries, Istanbul is still an ancient city that hasn’t really changed its topographical contours or its customs. The men pushing their carts of produce uphill are bringing fruits and vegetables to various neighborhoods, stopping at a strategic corner for a few hours to sell fresh produce to the older neighborhood women who can no longer take that hard trek up 40-degree grades to get to the pazari<\/em> (markets) for food. Same goes for bread and pastry carts, with street sellers calling out “ekmek”<\/em> (bread) “bourek”<\/em> (cheese pastry) and “ciokolat”<\/em> (croissants)\u00a0to go with your cay<\/em> (chai – tea) for a mere two Turkish lira.<\/p>\n

When a vehicle stalls on the busy narrow streets causing a traffic jam for several hours, men are immediately compelled to help the driver move his stuck car and get him help so that everything can continue. Your cabbie will get you from Point A to Point B, and when caught in traffic, you can feel as well as hear his audible deep breath in, deep breath out. They’ve been there before, patiently understanding the plight of the poor guy whose vehicle is stuck up ahead. It may be his turn next, and your patience behind the wheel helps the city at that moment. Imece.<\/p>\n

When you come to love a new place, leaving it is followed by a form of grief. So imagine my return home to find the Presidential debates on the television, re-encountering the thought that we’re still trying to decide what role government will have — the central issue of the 2012 election.\u00a0 <\/p>\n

Is government going to help its citizens or will we abandon our citizens to the whims of the private sector? Are we turning over the last vestiges of what was a democracy into a two-party, two-class system where the bulk of the nation’s wealth is concentrated under the hands of the very few? Are we going have a health care system, imperfect as it is? Or will we let private health care insurers decide what it is we do get as health coverage — if we get it at all — and at what cost? Do we democratize America or commodify it?<\/p>\n

I not only came back home from a foreign land whose customs I loved and appreciated, I came back to a place that now makes me want to hold on to principles so foreign to us: social capital<\/a> — community, reciprocity, assistance — imece. In Turkey, I felt a deep embarrassment over our sense of social and economic entitlement, the pushiness to get ahead no matter the cost. The contempt we have for the people and places we step on and run over. The need for so much to fill an emptiness so deep that it’s an abyss we keep trying to fill with more stuff — at a price higher than we can imagine.<\/p>\n

Coming from an ancient and oriental empire that’s learned its lessons of tolerance, patience, and respect for knowledge and diversity and then watching our political discourse in decline makes my heart ache. Are we fighting for the soul of our country, or are we deciding whether or not to continue having a soul? It’s in that decision that the destiny of our once and maybe future empire rests.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Last night, I dreamed I was on the Istiklal again. Istiklal, short for Istiklal Caddesi (Iz-tee-klal je-de-suh), is the main street of Istanbul’s Beyoglu district in the European side of the city. In my dream I was walking with thousands of other pedestrians on this vehicle-free runway, walking with the men with their pushcarts carrying … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"generate_page_header":""},"categories":[1740],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/62154"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/9"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=62154"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/62154\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=62154"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=62154"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/planetwaves.net\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=62154"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}