Staying on the road in Israel and the Palestinian territories during a month of trial, and today: political developments being the journey to a screeching halt.
A week into September, the journey faces a peril. My idea was to describe the developments of a potentially dramatic month by way of travel writing. The month indeed is turning out to be dramatic, and now the project risks falling victim to one of these developments.
Story is – I spent the majority of July in Turkey composing travel articles for Israeli magazines. Now, since the Israeli ambassador is being sent back and tourism between Israel and Turkey is diminishing, I am told by my various editors that none of the articles will appear in the forseeable future. An entire month of work disappeared. “kill fees” for unpublished articles are not common in Israel.
The news comes on a day on which the bank calls in to tell me I exceeded my withdrawl limit and may withdraw no more cash. This happens to most Israelis. The improbable cost of living put us all into debt, which is why we took to the streets this summer, demanding the system is changed. My own situation is a little worse. A year ago I left a job in Pro-Netanyahu daily “Israel Hayom” for reasons of conscience, and saw a decline in funds ever since.
In short. I need your support. Instead of going on the road, I spent today in the sweaty city, knocking on doors, making phone calls and trying to solve the problem and save the project. Nothing worked, so I turn to you. If any of you have it in yourselves to contribute, please click on the “donate” button to the right and please be sure to specify that you are donating to my September journey.
I promise to venture out as soon as the first donations arrive and allow me to take a bus out of town, in hope that more funds will amass later, permitting completion of this project. Meanwhile, I’d like to pay a tribute to a country I may never see again.
Today’s journey is not a September one, it’s a July one, it’s a Turkish one and its path is that of longing.
Farmhouse near Sinop, on the Black Sea coast
Suburbs of Ankara.
Working class neighborhood Balat, in Istanbul. Despite its beauty, it rarely gets visitors from the outside.
Procession of multibple weddings crosses a bridge at sunset, near the town of Bafra.
kokoreç, an exotic street food. If I tell you what it’s made of you feel upset and won’t donate, so I’ll just confirm it’s delicious.
Town of Turkeli, on the Black Seas coast.
A doll of a whirling Sufi derwish, for sale in the city of Samsun.
Hebrew literature in Istanbul bookshop. Headed for the shredder?
Interior of Hamam, in Istanbul.
The musoleum of Ataturk in Ankara.
Outfits for boys circumcision ceremony, on sale in Istanbul’s grand Bazaar area.
A barber in Üsküdar (Asian Istanbul) burning off my ear hairs. Ruthie took this one.
Panorama of Istanbul from top of the “Sapphire”, Turkey’s tallest tower.
And here is what I will miss the most: the friends and the nights of rakı and fascinating conversation we spent together. Maybe one day all will be well, politically and economically. Your kind contribution will make things a little better for this one writer, and I promise to put it into making things better at large.
Thank you so much.
For more of the September journey, click here. (and while we’re at it, I especially recommend the latest post)