Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

Once upon a Far-Away Island

The word travel comes from a Latin word meaning torture. Case in point, last year, a man, who was trapped inside Disneyland’s “It’s a Small Word” ride, was forced to listen to that theme song for 30 minutes. He sued Disney for mental distress and won 8000 dollars. I wonder how many on minimum wage would volunteer for that mental distress.

It is true that about at least 25 % of any travel can be uncomfortable and even with a threat or risk waiting at every corner, but then, there are such high points and things to be learned along the way that most of us take those discomforts gladly. In spite of the negatives I faced whenever I traveled, I came across wonderful vistas and unbelievable human beings.

A memorable incident took place off Istanbul, Turkey, about twenty-five years ago. On one of the Prince’s Islands on the Marmara sea off the main city, called Heybeliada, we decided to spend a day. Heybeli means having a saddlebag, as the shape of the island seems to resemble a saddlebag, and Ada is island. The island is called Heybeli for short.

Heybeli has a Naval Academy, a sanatorium, an Orthodox church with a monastery, and no cars. As transportation only bikes, horse-drawn carriages, and donkeys are used. Also boats of different sizes and shapes all painted in bright colors can be seen sitting idly or carrying people about. A ferry connects the island to the city. Fancy wood houses that appear to have sprung from the fairy tales, wood sheds for boats and whatever, and the flowers along ornate iron-lace fences and stone walls brightened with all colors of flowers decorate the roads. In fact, wherever we glanced at, flowers were there, but the main attraction of the plant life on Heybeli are the pines. The island is a treasure trove of pine trees. At higher elevations, there are woods of pine for picnickers. Food is readily available in the center of the town and where most of the cafes line the boulevard along the pier.

Still, this dreamlike background and the clean pine scent that pervaded the island was not the best thing that happened to me. That best thing took place at a picnic place at a higher elevation where we walked up to enjoy the view. Under the pines we saw several groups of people sitting and eating on spreads that looked like large tablecloths, with each group minding its own business. In a tour group, there was a German couple with the wife pregnant who eyed what the people were eating, Not realizing that locals and tourists alike carried their food from the market or from their homes, as food wasn’t sold anywhere around this place, they asked a picnicker where they could get some food. All of a sudden, everyone started offering them to share their food. Then a huge group, consisting of most of the picnickers, spread their tablecloths together in a clearing and called everyone, including us to join them. Language was no barrier since most Turks talk, however haltingly, English, German, or French. The warmth of friendship suddenly sprung among the people right there and then, and day ended up as being the most wonderful coming together for humans of different backgrounds.

I have been to many places in my youth, in at least three continents, and had different experiences, good or bad. Of all of them, I think what happened at Heybeli, at that specific day, is what the entire world should aim for.