A Life Experience

The day was eventful, as any day be on holiday, but the true adventure did not begin until the evening. There is something tormenting about foreign nights, they cannot be replicated or imagined, they can only be witnessed. The scent in the air was one of warmth, spice and life. Treacle in the lungs and heat in the heart. I travelled to a place of belonging, to a country lacking in variety yet drowning in beauty, the mountains were of dangerous height, the sun of dangerous heat, yet the country held a posture of magic, and air of faith.
Turkey. A country so strong in religion and silent power, there I met a host who would guide me to the traditional clubs and bars of Turkey. An experience of much delight. Very quickly I was lost within the sounds of Turkish voices, rhythmically speaking to the beat of Turkish instrumental. I did not need to understand the language to understand the emotion of each song. In this bar a circle of strangers gathered to dance and express their devoted faith, in this bar, a family of strangers shared one common dream, skill and wish; religious faith. With no borders, and no lines between strangers, and religion.
I was escorted to the Canyon, situated in the heart of mountainous beauty; a place of worship for many on the day of rest and happiness. Of course too, prayer. Saklikent. Where the water flows from underground and into the rocks leaving crystal spring water. Ready to drink and at a temperature of ice. The water between my toes took the breath from my lungs, in shock I was washed away with those waves, to a place in which anything is possible.
In Turkey, I experienced the cultural difference and traditions of both modern and old lifestyles, leading me to another perspective on my own life and the dramatic differences between me and them. England and Turkey.
The sounds evaporating from within the mosques made my hairs stand on end, the echos could not be missed, the voice of a young male expressing his devotion to Allah, whilst as a tourist, or the friend of a local, I ate in the comfort of a bar, listening to the almost song of prayer and absorbing the scent of cream pasta floating throughout the air, both within the building, and without. Carefree, appreciating the life of a Muslim, appreciating their dedication and commitment.
Each day brought to me a new dream, a living dream. The sun shone down on the face bearing one hundred smiles. There was no rain, each Turkish citizen I passed expressing positive energy, the pebbles of the road creating dust upon a perfect atmosphere. Almost a picture in perfection, a painted perfect dream. Within that week my experience of culture took a dramatic turn as I now visualise the hard working lifestyle of the Turkish people, yet they never fail to show a smile, now I know.
Boneata Bell
Approx 1:30PM


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