"Unrecorded" in Istanbul
I'm in Istanbul this week to present the You Are Not Here urban tourism mashup project that I narrated and helped present last year in Rotterdam, this time at a gallery in Istanbul. The exhibition is called "Unrecorded".
Noor has come along for the ride, Yousuf (much to his dismay) has been left behind this time.
I'm writing to see if any readers of my blog happen to be in Istanbul (I seem to remember at least one) and wouldn't mind meeting up, maybe giving me the local scoop. I'm at a bit of a loss seeing as how I speak no Turkish (maybe besides the words that happen to overlap in Arabic...tamam, kofte, meydan, etc).
My mother is traveling with me. We continue to keep abreast of the situation back home. Last time we spoke with my cousin Sunday morning, usually the optimistic and cheerful type, all was not well. "Our lives are difficult; so very difficult. We are living in dark and desperate times" he said solemnly. He said a building next to his was leveled-with all the occupants still inside of it- with no advance warning. And that because cement has run out, bodies are being buried with no gravestones to mark them.