Saturday, 5 April 2014

Wie Heimat ein Begriff für mich wurde

Als ich heute meinen alten Block aufschlug, sprang mir ein alter Text entgegen, den ich verfasst haben musste als noch nichts klar war was meinen Verbleib für dieses Jahr angeht. Ich fühle mittlerweile anders, ich liebe die Türkei und ich möchte mein restliches Leben hier verbringen, aber für mich allein behalten will ich den Text dann doch lieber nicht.

05.08.2013

Gestern bin ich 18 geworden.Vor kurzer Zeit habe ich meiin Abitur abgelegt.
Die Welt steht mir nun offen, ich möchte studieren.
Wer die Universitäten verfolgt wird wissen, dass die NC durch die Dächer durch sind ( Erziehungswissenschaften 1,8) und man unmöglich studieren kann. Mein Wunschstudium Psychologie liegt bei 1,0. Also habe ich mich in ganz Deutschland und auch privat beworben.Wenn nicht endlich mehr Studienplätze und menschliche Zugangsvoraussetzungen geschaffen werden wird das die Privatisierung des Bildungssektors forcieren aber das steht auf einem anderen Blatt.
Heute möchte ich über etwas ganz anderes sprechen. Mein Blog ist nicht politisch, mir geht es um Gefühle, um die menschlichen Auf- und Abfahrten im Leben. Ich möchte über Heimat sprechen. Und ich möchte ein Geständnis ablegen.

Beykoz korusu

Da ich bis Oktober Zeit habe genieße ich momentan den Luxus mich zwei Monate im Urlaub in der Türkei zu befinden.Meine Familie befindet sich schon in Deutschland.Als  nun schon zwei Absagen und ein Ausschluss eintrudelten (mein NC liegt übrigens bei 1,7)  rief mein Vater mich an und berichtete mir von der Möglichkeit in Istanbul zu studieren -Vollstipendium, Privatuni mit hochgradiger akademischer Belegschaft, kleinen Kursen, internationaler Studentenschaft, auf Englisch und mit einem Double Major.
Ich war begeistert und bewarb mich sofort.Man war sehr freundlich, half mir wo nur möglich und gab mir das Vollstipendium.
Voller Elan stürtzte ich mich in den Papierkram und begann Istanbul zu erkunden, nach einer Bleibe zu suchen - zwei Wochen verstrichen.
beylerbeyi  iskelesi  
Ich begann zu zögern. Mein 18.Geburtstag verstrich ohne meine Familie, die wichtigste Nacht (Laylatul-Quadr) im islamischen Kalender ebenfalls und das Ramadanfest würde ebenfalls ohne Familie verstreichen.
Fatih camii
Ich begann alleine zu weinen. Meine Tränen waren überraschend, sie überrumpelten mein Umfeld und am allermeisten mich selbst. Weder konnte ich das fremde Nass auf meinem Gesicht stoppen, noch den Schmerz in der Brust. Untröstlich weinte ich eine ganze Stunde lang. Dann konnte lediglich das Gebet meinen Schmerz stillen, mich trösten.
Es scheint hier als würde ich ziemlich häufig weinen, aber das ist mitnichten der Fall. Es ist nur so, dass ich jedes Mal schreibe wenn ich weine.
Ich vermisste meine Mutter und ich hatte das seltsame Verlangen in dieses mich ablehnende Land Deutschland zurückzuwollen. Wenn ich alleine in Istanbul umherirrte fühlte ich Zuneigung, Zugehörigkeit aber eben auch Verwirrung. Gewisse Dinge stachen mir  ins Auge, ich störte mich regelrecht an ihnen..

Und dann stand ich vor der seltsamen, viel zu großen, viel zu erwachsenen Aufgabe mein Leben selbst in die Hand zu nehmen und mir ein Land als meine Heimat auszusuchen. Sollte ich mein Herz in der Hälfte durchschneiden?
Ja, als junge aufbrausende Ayşe verkündete ich immer lauthals ich sei stolze Türkin ,wollte nichts mit Deutschland zu tun haben und wollte sowieso zurück in die Türkei.
Diese Göre ist heute etwas zahmer geworden.
Da sie nun an der Weggabelung steht ist sie sich nun doch nicht mehr ganz so sicher.Und dann fällt ihr plötzlich ein, dass sie über dem ganzen Ärger mit der Islamophobie und dem Rassismus ja doch irgendwie dieses komische Dings hat: Dieses... Deutschsein.
Irgendwie ist ihr das ganze von damals auch ein wenig peinlich und sie weiß, dass es so gut wie allen Migrantenkindern so geht wie ihr.Sie weiß, dass viele das nicht unbedingt realisieren bevor sie vor der Wahl stehen, es vielleicht verdrängen oder so. Wahrscheinlich lesen das auch grade auch ein paar von eben diesen Migrantenkindern, schütteln heftig die Köpfe und verfluchen Ayşe, weil sie ja so einen Unsinn verzapft. Sie kennt das am besten von sich selbst.
Und nun, da ich zugegeben habe, dass ich wohl auch irgendwie Deutsche bin, ja verdammt nochmal dann hattet ihr eben Recht, dann habt ihr mich eben erwischt, möchte ich zeigen wieso: Gewisse Prinzipien gehen ins Blut über.
Ich liebe in Deutschland die Pünktlichkeit, dass man zu einem Rendezvous eben nicht eine halbe Stunde später erscheint als vereinbart und die Handwerker die sich für 12 angekündigt haben auch um 12 auf der Matte stehen und nicht um 17 Uhr. Ich liebe die Genauigkeit mit der gearbeitet wird, dass die neue Dusche nicht knirscht und die Wand bis an den Rand abgeklebt und bemalt wird statt einfach die hässlichen Übermalungen in Kauf zu nehmen.
Ich schätze die Gesetzestreue, die Loyalität gegenüber Regeln und Autoritäten, dass man im Verkehr auf Ampeln achtet, auf Schilder und nicht 120 auf einer 60 km/h-Strecke fährt.Dass man sich anschnallt.
Ich mag die Ablehnung gegenüber reinen Oberflächlichkeiten, die Geringschätzung von Statussymbolen und die kritische Hinterfragung der eigenen Position. Ich liebe das gute Auge für Polemik,Halbwissen und Scharlatane.Ich liebe die Diskussionskultur und das prinzipiell erst einmal jeder das Recht hat seine Position darzulegen.
Ich schätze die Disziplin,die Arbeitsmoral, die Professionalität, den Fleiß.
Ich hasse den Rassismus, die Islamophobie, die Kälte, dass man allein in der Menge ist, das Fehlen von ordentlichen familiären Strukturen, die Missachtung von menschlichen Notsituationen.
Ich liebe in der Türkei die Freundlichkeit,das Fehlen von Fremdheit.
Ich liebe die Zivilcourage, die Hilfsbereitschaft, dass mich der Onkel am Abend an der Busstation in den richtigen  Bus dirigiert und sogar mich bis nach Hause begleitet, es als unverschämt betractet als ich mein Portemonnaie zücke und darauf besteht zu zahlen.
Ich liebe die lachenden Gesichter in der Sonne, die Zufriedenheit der Menschen mit einfachen Dingen. Dem Meer zum Beispiel und einer kühlen Brise.
Ich vergöttere das praxisorientierte Denken, dass eben das Ergebnis zählt und Regeln nur einem Zweck dienen. Dass man sie eben auch mal missachten kann , wenn sie unnütz sind. Dass uns die Bibliothekarin nicht verbietet zu dritt am Tisch zu sitzeb, weil es 'REGEL !' ist.
Ich sterbe für den Çay am Abend, die Geschichten der Alten, die man achtet ,pflegt und  nicht ins Altenheim abschiebt. Ich liebe das Gefühl eine Nation zu sein.
Ich hasse die Großmauligkeit, die extreme Vorgehensweise gegeneinander in der Politik, die Unpünktlichkeit, die Faulheit.

Mein Herz ist gespalten in vier Teile. Eines liebt, eines hasst die Türkei. Eines liebt, eines hasst Deutschland.

Gott sei Dank bin ich nicht nur Türkin und Deutsche, sondern in erster Linie Muslima.
Allah sei gepriesen.

Auf nach İstanbul ! Auf in ein neues Leben ! 

Üsküdar iskelesi 


Monday, 17 March 2014

Why Zuhd ? Neden züht ?

There is this time in our lifes when we reach a level of faith we would love to keep.We feel like we have lived our whole life for no reason before, we feel like we breath really for the first time , like we love for the first time and are real abids in a sense. We might think that we did belong to the munafiqin before and wish to keep this high level of iman.

It doesnt stay. 
And thats normal. The point is to never go under a certain standard. Imaan doesnt come and go but it isnt constant as well. Sometimes its very high, at times it loses its strength. Our struggle is to keep it as high as possible and lose our life at a point when our heart burns in the love of our creator.

So I asked myself. What did I do wrong ?

 Why didnt it stay as high as it was before? What was the one, essential thing I was doing differently when I compared my present self to my past-self ? I found an answer.
Then I looked around. I asked myself what was making the people so different although they were basically exposed to the same things? I especially focused on the people in my community. We were all sitting in the same classes, listening to the same pictures, the same rooms, same imaams, same , same , same... Yet , some of my brothers and sisters in Islam were so pious and others were'nt impressed by the truth they were being exposed to at all. I believed to have found the answer. And I found it to be identical with the answer I had found for myself, on an individual level. So I belıeve to have found the answer I have searched for. Something I consider worth sharing.



The very foundation of faith is independent thought.
The very foundation foundation for independent thought on the other hand is time. Time to ponder and a clear mind.
Do we have time ? Yes we do. The statement ' I dont have time!' is probably one of the biggest lies of our time.We have always time for our priorities. The question is never whether you have time for something or not, but whether you consider something as important enough to spend your time on it.
Do I have a clear mind ? No. The second premisse is not met. Now lets go further. Why dont I have a clean mind? And what does 'clean' mean. 
Lets think of our minds as something like a vessel. When is a vessel 'clean' ? When it is empty or filled exclusively with things it was supposed to be filled with.Whenever something that wasnt supposed to be put in it enters the vessel it becomes 'dirty'. The level of dirt varies of course, you can fill a vessel only with junk or only with goodness, but the moment something bad enters it it is not pure any longer. 
What is it that we fill our minds with ? Information. We fill our minds with information. When we see a picture, listen to some music or just spend our time at a specific event we process what we sense and store it as a piece of information. So we have to be very  carfeful what we expose ourself to.

İt doesnt really matter how much you dislike ssomething - if you are constantly exposed to it you will store it. It will occpy your mind and eventually become part of your identity. So lets be careful what we expose ourselves to.


We are all born upon the fitrah of tawhid. So theoretically we should have high imaan in our natural state. Therefore low imaan had to be a consequence of distraction. Logically I had to get rid of all the distractions.
I asked myself : What are my distractions ?

1) Food 

I may not look like it, but I eat horrific amounts of food. I eat constantly, there is no satiation for me when it comes to food. The more the better. I eat when I am excited and I eat when I am bored. Not because I am hungry -but because I am in a constant search for stimulation. And food is the easiest accessible stimulator, not to mention that it never fails to work. In one way it has become an addiction for me, food is a kind of a drug in my state.

2)Looks

I am a woman. I spend time on my clothing and make-up.
But during the last semester I started spending more thoughts on it and whenever I have free time I tend to either eat or - go on instagram to look out for some fashion.

3) Entertainment

That includes the entire internet. I gave up watching TV and reading novels 6 years ago, but that doesnt mean, that I gave up entertainment completely. I dont believe that you have to do so completely, but I believe that entertainment is wasted time and I as a muslim cant afford that.It should be very minimal. Just enough. 

4) People
 
Useless conversations, unneccessary people, unneccessary gatherings. From most of them we dont only not benefit but are harmed. I will cut it down.




Lastly about the title I chose : I am not defending a complete abstinence from all this in no way. Nor do I agree with withdrawing oneself from the world. But I do believe, that our hearts are easily occupied by the dunya and in order to get rid of it we need some zuhd.




Monday, 16 December 2013

Turning points

We all have these moments in life,when we have lost our direction.
When we start feeling numb,when we just function.We dont live,dont feel.We are confused,we start thinking our emotions,instead of feeling them.
And then there comes this saving moment.The turning point.For most people its a conversation,a person,a place,a smell,an object.
For me it has always been a moment.A moment of silence. And darkness. I need the darkness,the night,the merciful covering of everything physical.I have to close my eyes,lose my visual sense and let rationality die.
I might even see,my eyes might still be open,but the signals dont reach my brain.I see the elements,but dont get the pictures.Thats when my heart comes back. And it says 'Hey,Im here.I still feel.I am still alive. And hey,I know the direction to go.Im not blaming you for not following the last days.Just come back.Come back.Follow me.I'll guide you home.Let me be your light on your path to Allah.'
At all turning points of my life I've written my feelings down.I've written it all down,let the feelings pour out.

And then I've kept it to myself.

But today I want to share one of these turning points
.
Istanbul is crazy.Its beautiful and its crazy.I mean Berlin is a metropole.But Istanbul is just a new dimension of craziness and speed for me.And it bcecame too much for me at once.İt was just too much. Too much.Too much at once.
So I was feeling like a machine,I was functioning ,in order to protect my naive,innocent self.And the moment you become a machine,you mistake other people for being machines too.Because you have no heart and you feel with your brain,or at least you think you feel with your brain (I dont know to which extent this is possible,but I'm quite sure everyone has experienced this),you assume that other people dont have a heart either.You dont treat them respectless or rude,but you become passive,you only answer questions.You never ask,because you are not interested in the one in front of you.You are only interested in yourself,in your own state,your own thoughts,your own feelings. The most precious thing one can give is true,selfless interest.For the sake of the other.When people talked to me I was only fed up with behaving right myself,with avoiding risks,with staying in my own state.Sometimes I got bored,I tried to escape out of that cage I created on my own.But I didnt even knew how I created that cage,how could I know which key was the right one to escape?

And then,when I got bored I tried to use other people as a means to explorations,to new things,to excitement and ultimately to any true feeling at all again.I hadnt felt anything in ages,I was even willing to experience the worst kind of sadness,of anger and grief.I was just desperate for emotions.And so I tried to exploit other people,I wanted them to stimulate me,I acted like a parasite and forgot that I was still dealing with humans.Humans with hearts,with emotion. Just HUMANS.

So I sat down this one evening,it was already dark, with my friend at the harbor and was eating kumpir.Not that I was hungry.Again: I was just in desperate search for stimulation.
We sat in front of the mosque,in front of us the now closed historical Mimar Sinan Bazaar and a beautiful fountain.It was not summer anymore,but not cold as well.The ever so vital place we were at seemed to be empty.We were the only ones sitting at the benches.It seemed like humankind had left this place to us.And since my friend is really close to me,I felt like the place was left to me.She was just an extension of me (what a disgusting,egocentric thought,but thats how I felt).We sat there and talked about this and that as the fountain turned off at exactly 8pm.We watched the waves in the water calming down until it was just an even surface.No sound,no movement,no life,nothing.Just calmness.In this very moment I saw myself in the water.It represented me prefectly.The loud noise might have stopped with the fountain.but so did the beauty,the whole purpose of the fountain dissolve.

I started crying.

The tears were rolling down my cheeks and I knew exactly why.
I started talking,but everytime I started something stopped me.Something from deep within held me back.The words were coming to the tip pf my tongue,but there was no way for them to find out.
So we sat there.
And I looked at the water.
And somewhere between the calm surface of the lifeless water and the neverending problems of my teenage-adult-something-in-between-being I chose to turn.To leave the path I was on and get back on track.

I turned.

Turned my face to my creator and again said ' I have sinned,Oh Lord! I have transgressed against my own soul. Forgive Et-Tevvab!'

Thursday, 14 November 2013

Türkiye Gençlik Barış Gemisi - Mediterranean Youth Peace ship

I had never seen such a huge ship.I was amazed and at the same time couldnt quite believe my eyes.Everytime I looked up it seemed even bigger.How was humankid able to build such huge things?

İt was the 29.October when our journey to Bosnia,Croatia and Tunisia with the mediterranean Youth Peace Boat started.We would visit Mostar,Dubrovnik and Tunis.

I wanted to write,but now after writing three sentences I cant do it anymore.

I dont want to talk much about it,I dont feel like writing lately.I am in this time again when I shut up and listen.I soak everything up.Lıke a sponge.And I write,I write,but only for myself.

I am going to let the pictures do the talking.






















 
The minister of Youth and Sports Suat Kılıç :) The whole trip was sponsored by the ministry I didnt pay anything :)



Sunday, 13 October 2013

İstanbul-Berlin

I did it -as thousands of young Turks before me I went back to the country in which I am accepted for what I am.
It is the late evening when I get my ticket for the flight.It says 'Berlin SXL - Istanbul SAW' and some strange warmth floats through me when I read 'Istanbul'. Its an irrational warmth.Nobody would be able to explain why I feel it,not even myself.
Nobody except for people in my situation can understand how much blood pulls.How it pulls you,almost calls for you.When you eavesdrop in the evening and see the turkish flag waving in the wind in front of your eyes before you go to sleep, you can hear how it calls your name. And you can feel how you secretly belong to this flag,this ground which calls for you. Sometimes you ignore it,at times you even neglect it,otherwise the longing would make you go crazy.It would fill you with hate and rejection. But this is not a story of hate.It is a story of love.It is the story of a young girl in the prosperity of her life,the best age and in front of opened doors in every direction.It is the story of a girl who is looking for orientation,for some ideas,for acceptance and warmth.






Things I didnt find in Berlin.Dont get me wrong,please.I like Berlin.It is the city of my birth,the city I was raised in,the city I explored like no other city.I know Berlin like my pocket.And there are places in Berlin which I love,people I adore and yes I also liked some bahaviours of Germans.I like it,but I dont love it here.I dont do so because every time I start falling in love with this city someone makes me hate it again,makes me feel that no matter how much I will like it here, I wont be accepted.



I get hit in the metro and shout at in the streets,I get insulted in school and stared at at the mall.Whenever I talk to someone the topic is the same.
Im tired of it.Im tired of being recognized as a mere object of sociological and demographical processes,tired of being a mere object of politics.
Because I am more than that.Firstly I am a human being and Id like to be treated as one.As a living being,a human, with emotions,moods and insecurities.I dont always have to be strong.Why should I ? Why should everyone have the right to be insecure,to be weak at times,but I have to be ready,happy,active,better than the average? Why ?  Could this probably have to do something with me having to proof the opposite of something? Of some idea that people dont get tired of telling me that its non-existent? Nice try.

In Istanbul its different,of course.
When I walk in the streets nobody stares at me.When I walk around at the mall nobody hits me,when I am at the university nobody shouts at me for no reason.And I dont get insulted while using the metro.
Its such a peaceful,easy life.I can focus more on pleasing my creator instead of always defending myself in front of other people.I can focus on being myself,on enjoying,on my studies.Its easy.And thats why it also leaves questionmarks in my head.Has it been right to leave? To just GO ? To leave and choose ease instead of all the struggles?

I dont know.
I probably should have stayed and struggled with my people.I chose not to.At least for the next time not.I chose ease.And a little bit it was chosen for me.




All I can say is: I love Istanbul.
I love it here.I love my people and I love the way of living here.I love it. For the very first time since a few years I am able to sit down and listen again.
I found piece - in this vibrant city with thousand faces.


P.S.: I know this post has like no main idea or message. Its just like me.I dont want to tell anyone anything.I just feel like listening.
I just felt like it was time to upload a post again since this is my blog.

Sunday, 1 September 2013

Im ready for Istanbul

I havent blogged in ages! Ive had holidays,finished school and am now ready to study. I have been writing and writing and writing during the last two month (in which I -as shocking as it is for me- havent published ANYTHING) and never clicked on the "publish"-button. I feel like they are not ready for the public yet.

But today I found my "Fasting is not a diet"-post published in the Islamic newspaper , which I can highly recommend.

And I felt the urge to write again!

So what happened ?

As I mentioned, I finished school and got my Abitur with the Numerus Clausus 1,7,which is not brilliant but quite good.A few years ago you could study medicine with 1,7.Last year the whole situation changed -to the worse. They shortened schooltime from 13 to 12 years so that two years and so to speak double the amount of students as usual finished school at the same time.On top of that they cancelled military service,which lead to an explosion of people who wanted to start with Uni. As a result people with good grades werent able to start with Uni anymore.You had to be brilliant ... or rich to afford private Uni.And I am obviously not rich.



And as I got the offer to study in Istanbul at the Istanbul Sehir University my dream - psychology .... you can imagine the rest.



I am now looking forward to study Psychology and - if I can manage it - Islamic Studies too.I am looking forward to spend 4 years in this city I love everything about.This one city,which I miss everything about -except the traffic. I missed the adhan, the heat,the people.I missed the full bazaars,the smells and the colours.I missed the people,their smiles and the mosques.I missed my relatives,the bosphorus and cay.I missed the seagulls,the variety and the feeling of being at home, to be accepted, to be part of something bigger.I am so looking forward to wake up with adhan for fajr,to lift my blanket and realise, that I am where I want to be : In Istanbul <3

Tuesday, 16 July 2013

İftar at Sultanahmet mosque - İstanbul


İ love Ramadan.  Who doesnt?
İ love Turkey.     Who else?
İ love İstanbul.    How couldnt I ?

One of my biggest wishes has been to be at the garden of Sultanahmet for iftar once in my life. İ wanted to spent the most intense,the most heartchanging and the most beautiful time of the year in an islamic country.İ wanted to experience the people fasting around me,İ wanted to see the mosques shining,decorated with bright lights, İ wanted to hear the azan calling and the people filling the mosques for tarawih. İ wanted to be in İstanbul.


For the first time in my life (and the last) İ have holidays for three month this year.And for the first time in my life İ am able to spent the entire holy month in my beloved country. Alhamdulillah!

on my way to Sultanahmet

Everyone was warning us.They were telling us scary stories about the amount of people there.Theye were telling us a bout people still being lost, missed children and people staying hungry for hours after iftar because they werent able to buy any food.

Regardless of the warnings we went there.
We went to Sultanahmet.For Iftar !
And İ loved it, İ absolutely fell in love.


İ dont remember seeing so many people on one spot of this planet.İt was the first weekend of Ramadan and the weather  mild . So the masses exploded.We arrived there an hour before iftar and it was already full. So full that we couldnt find any free spot for us to sit...
With five unpatient kids,having walked 3 miles and a heavy watermelon I was near to tearing up. Would that be it ?

Not in Turkey. As the people saw us desperately searching for a place,they stopped us.A friendly old men came to us , greeted us with the most beautıful words  'Assalamualaikum' and invited us to sit next to them.At first we were a little confused where he was planning to get us in.But he talked quickly with the neighbours and they all gathered up their blancets a little more so that we finally saw a little green patch.

We sat down.

people on their way to Sultanehmet


12475391629 people waiting for azan
Outside of the mosque is a huge square where they built a bazar for the tourists.They mainly showed ancient ottoman arts like,çini,hüsn-i hat etc.


İt is impossible to find a place in a restaurant next to the square. To buy something from a fastfood-restaurant you need to wait like half an hour. So the only thing we could buy were soups.

Mercimeksoup!

People run around and try to sell their food,but it is so full,the chance that you might not get anything is very high.So we ended up with the most delicious soup İve ever eaten (yes, even better than my Grannys soup!) and some çiğköfte. 
İt looks quite poor.And in comparison to the regular wasteful ,rich iftar-dinner table it looks even poorer.
But it hadnt been about the food at no point of this adventure. İt was delicious and the most filling soup İve ever eaten.We ate and ate and ate and it didnt look like the soup was becoming less.İ felt like İ had eaten in the best restaurant of the world.
And indeed İ had. İ was sitting at the table of the most generous host , surrounded by all my brothers and sisters in İslam,all sitting and waiting and making dhikr. All the talking stopped as our host - Allah (c.c) gave us the command to eat.


We ate and went for prayer. İ have no pictures of that time. İ was in trance. i was loving and crying and thanking my Lord for this gift.


'welcome Ramadan'




İ want to experience this once more. Once more ! Once more ! Ya Allah! İ thank you for all what you have given me.

Dont you love Ramadan too? <3