Istanbul PretourMarts, koldt, klamt

Istanbul
Pretour
Marts, koldt, klamt, regnvejr. Kort beskrivelse af Danmark, som det så ud inden jeg pakkede min kuffert og drog til Istanbul. Ugerne op til afrejse fortalte min mor mig at dette land grænser op til Asien, ikke er en del af EU og at det desuden er et muslimsk land uden eksisterende ligestilling. Jeg gjorde os selv bevidste om mine egne fordomme om nationale stereotyper, som ville give os et bredere syn i vore observationer i landet. Jeg fandt hele situationen en anelse fjollet, da jeg ikke selv mente, at jeg lå inde med disse ”fordomme om nationale stereotyper”. Selvfølgelig var jeg da ikke en af dem, som dømte fremmede på forhånd, det ville da være for fjollet og ikke mindst dumt. ”Det er slet ikke fair at dømme folk på forhånd, når man ikke har mødt dem, og da slet ikke en hel befolkning,” tænkte jeg ved mig selv, og pudsede den glorie, der skinnende og ren hang over mit hoved.
Realisation
Da jeg ankom til Istanbul, blev jeg en hel del klogere. Jeg fik et chok; da jeg stod af båden i Üsküdar og for første gang i mit liv var på asiatisk jord, havde jeg forventet noget. Jeg havde forventet noget mere. Jeg havde forventet mennesker i posede bukser og fez og ikke slidte cowboybukser og t-shirt med McDonald sign. Dybest set havde jeg forventet en by i lignende karakter med byen Akraba, som eventyrhelten Aladin bor i, med små fine gader, lerhuse, frugtboder og butikker hvor mænd med sabel sælger alverdens former for lamper. I stedet eksisterede en stor, kaotisk, uorganiseret by fyldt med mennesker og usoignerede hjemløse katte på gaderne. Gadesælgere, gamle tørklædeklædte kvinder, storrygende mænd og folk der med rundsav-albuer kæmpede sig gennem de propfyldte gader, hvor det kun var muligt at følges ad på lange rækker, som små vraltende gæs i flok. Lyden af bilernes horn var ikke sjælden, da de hyppigt blev benyttet i den nærmest hjernelamme trafik. Ikke én gang så jeg et skilt, hvilket plejer at vejlede bilisterne til, hvornår grænsen for speedometeret er nået i gadebilledet, som i Danmark hedder max 50 i bykørsel; noget som de kære tyrkere nok ville grine let af, og ellers overhale Tante Ulla i den lille lilla smart car, kørende max 20.Mit drømmebillede om det eksotiske, varme, krydrede Asien forsvandt hutigt.
Anxiety
Her gik jeg og følte mig ih og åh så ræverød og mangfoldig. Var jeg racist? Det fik det til at løbe mig koldt ned ad ryggen. Men det ligger dybt inde i os alle, vi vestlige europæere fra det kolde nord. Selvfølgelig har vi, ud fra de oplysninger vi hver dag får udleveret, dannet os et billede af, hvordan menneskene ser ud og hvordan landet fungerer. Men det er et skævt billede, et overeksponeret billede, som vi får kylet i hovedet ved kun at læse om terrorister, bombeangreb, flagafbrænding, æresdrab og arrangerede ægteskaber med fætter Mohammed. Edward Said beskrev orientalisme som en grad af racisme, og jeg kan kun se mig enig i hans synspunkt. Det er det stereotype billede der dannes over for noget, man reelt ikke kender til, og får en til at tro, at alle i det pågældende samfund ser ud på en bestemt måde, opfører sig på en bestemt måde, tænker på en bestemt måde, uden faktisk at vide, om dette billede holder i retten. Som i dette tilfælde, hvor mit eget dannede billede ikke stemte overens med virkeligheden.
Jeg følte mig til grin, at jeg kunne dømme et folk ud fra noget så.. opstillet. Det var altså ikke kun i 1900-tallet, at vi lod os forføre af den fremmedartede, primitive og spændende kultur. Vi er ganske vidst i dag bevidste om, at der er forskel på Nordafrikanske, Mellemøstlige og Østasiatiske kulturer, men det stereotype billede af eksempelvis muslimske lande eksisterer stadig. Også selvom andre, som jeg, tror, at det vi ved er sandheden.
Nu følte jeg mig igen helt rolig indeni. Jeg var ikke den eneste, som havde dannet sig et billede af en flok hætteklædte mørke mennesker, som hang ud i store bygninger med kæmpekupler, og som kun kunne råbe ”Allah Akbah” og finde Mekka ved hjælp af kompas. Men derfor var det vel ikke i orden? Nu vidste jeg. ”Tyrkerne er et civiliseret, uddannet, oplyst folk, hvor ikke alle kvinder bærer burka, og der står sørme da andet på menuen end shawarma og falafel. Det er et folk på lige fod med mig selv, et fornuftigt folkefærd,” tænkte jeg, mens vi stod og ventede på en stor plads foren moskeen Hagia Sofia.
Realisation 2.0
Denne plads var fyldt med usoignerede duer, som ikke uden lige flyttede sig, så vi kunne passere. Ligesom vi stod fredfyldt og uden duer om fødderne, kom en politibil susende ind over pladsen. De to politimænd i bilen havde stor fornøjelse af at jage duerne på flugt i deres lille hurtige lyn. Helt ukontrolleret, og tæt på at ramme mig, kørte de rundt på pladsen i én stor herlighed og virvar af pestbefængte duer, hvorefter de forsvandt, stadig i fuld fart, videre ind i den kaotiske, men meget civiliserede by.
Der kom min lille, forvrængede hjerne igen på overarbejde. Hvordan skulle jeg dog tygge på denne oplev

Resultater (Engelsk) 1:

Istanbul PretourMarch, cold, dank, rainy weather. Brief description of Denmark, as it looked before I packed my suitcase and went to Istanbul. The weeks leading up to departure, told my mother to me to this land bordering Asia, are not part of the EU and that it also is a Muslim country without existing gender equality. I made us self-conscious about my own prejudices about national stereotypes, which would give us a broader view of our observations in the country. I found the whole situation a bit silly, since I don't even mind that I held these "prejudices about national stereotypes". Of course, I was not one of them, as a convicted alien in advance, it would then be too silly and not least silly. "It is not fair to judge people in advance, when you have not met them, and certainly not an entire population," I thought to myself, and plastered the Halo that is shiny and clean hung over my head. The realisation When I arrived in Istanbul, I was a lot smarter. I got a shock; as I stood by the boat in Üsküdar and, for the first time in my life was on Asian soil, I had expected something. I was expecting something more. I had expected people in baggy trousers and fez and not worn jeans and t-shirts with McDonald sign. Basically, I had expected a city in similar nature with the town of Akraba, as adventure hero Aladin lives in, with small fine streets, mud houses, fruit stalls and shops where men with Saber sells all kinds of lamps. Instead existed a vast, chaotic, disorganized city filled with people and usoignerede homeless cats on the streets. Street vendors, old scarf-clad women, great smoking men and people with circular saw-elbows fought its way through the streets, where it only was chock-full of possible to go together in long rows, as tiny waddling geese in the flock. The sound of car horns were not rare, since they are frequently used in the nearest brain paralyzing traffic. Not once I saw a signboard, which tends to guide motorists to the, when the border of the speedometer is reached in street scene, which in Denmark is called max 50 in city driving; something like the ladies and Turks would probably laugh easily, and otherwise overtake Aunt Ulla in the little purple smart car, driving max 20. My Phantasm of the exotic, hot, spicy Asia disappeared quickly.AnxietyHere I went and felt ih and oh so ræverød and diversity. I was racist? It got it to run down my spine shiver. But it is deep within us all, we Western Europeans from the cold north. Of course, we have, on the basis of the information we receive every day, formed a picture of how people look and how the country works. But it is a biased view, an overexposed picture that we get in the head only; read about terrorists, bomb attacks, flag burning, honour killings and arranged marriages with cousin Mohammed. Edward Said described Orientalism as a degree of racism, and I can only see me agree with his point of view. This is the stereotype that formed over for something you really do not know about, and get one to believe that everyone in that society looks a certain way, behave in a certain way, thinking in a certain way, without actually knowing whether this image keeps in court. As in this case, where my own formed the image did not correspond with reality. I felt ridiculous that I could judge a people out of something so ... set. It was, therefore, not only in the 20th century, that we let ourselves seduce by the strange, primitive and exciting culture. We are quite known today aware that there is a difference between North African, Middle Eastern and East Asian cultures, but the stereotype of, for example, Muslim countries still exists. Even if others, like me, think that we know to be the truth.Now I felt again completely calm inside. I was not the only one who had formed a picture of a bunch of hooded dark people who hung out in large buildings with giant domes, and which could only shout "Allah Akbah" and find Mecca using the compass. But that is why it was not working? Now I knew. "The Turks are a civilized, educated, enlightened people, where not all women wear the burqa, and Lo and behold as second on the menu than shawarma and falafel. It is a people on an equal footing with myself, a sensible people, "thought I, while we stood and waited for a big space foren mosque Hagia Sofia.Realisation 2.0 This place was filled with usoignerede pigeons, which are not without just moved so we could pass. Just as we stood peacefully and without doves on the feet, a police car came whizzing over the square. The two police officers in the car had great pleasure of chasing pigeons on the run in their small quick lightning. Completely uncontrolled, and close to hitting me, they drove around in the square in one great glory and jumble of the plague infested pigeons, after which they disappeared, still in full speed, further into the chaotic, but very civilized city.There came my small, distorted brain again in overtime. However, chew on this how could I discover

Resultater (Engelsk) 2:

Istanbul
Pretour
March, cold, damp, rainy weather. Short description of Denmark, as it looked before I packed my suitcase and went to Istanbul. The weeks prior to departure, my mother told me that this country borders on Asia, not part of the EU and that it is also a Muslim country without existing equality. I even made us aware of my own prejudices about national stereotypes, which would give us a broader view of our observations in the country. I found the whole situation a little silly, since I have not even thought that I was in possession of these "stereotypes about national stereotypes". Of course, were I not one of those convicted strangers in advance, it would then be too silly and not least stupid. "It's not fair to judge people in advance when you have not met them, let alone an entire population," I thought to myself, and plastered the halo of shiny and clean hung over my head.
Realisation
As I arrived in Istanbul, I was a lot smarter. I got a shock; when I got off the boat in Üsküdar and for the first time in my life was on Asian soil, I had expected something. I was expecting something more. I had expected people in baggy trousers and fez and not worn jeans and t-shirt with McDonald sign. Basically, I had expected a city of a similar nature with the city Akraba that adventure hero Aladin residence with small fine streets, mud houses, fruit stalls and shops where men with saber sells all sorts of types of lamps. Instead existed a large, chaotic, disorganized city filled with people and unkempt homeless cats on the streets. Street Vendors, old women wearing head scarves, chain-smoking men and people with circular saw-elbows fought through the jam-packed streets, where it was only possible to go together in long rows of small waddling geese in the flock. The sound of car horns was not rare, as they are frequently used in the nearest brain paralyze traffic. Not once I saw a notice, which usually advise motorists when the limit on the speedometer is reached in the streets, as in Denmark called max 50 in city driving; something like the dear Turkish people would probably laugh light of, and otherwise overtake Aunt Ulla in the little purple smart car, running max 20.Mit dream image of the exotic, hot, spicy Asian disappeared win time.
Anxiety
Here was I felt oh and oh so red fox and diverse. Was I a racist? It got it to run me a chill down the spine. But it lies deep inside us all, we Western Europeans from the cold north. Of course, we have, from the information every day we will receive, formed a picture of how people look and how the country works. But it's a biased view, an overexposed picture that we get molecule in the head by only read about terrorists bombings, flag burning, honor killings and arranged marriages with cousin Mohammed. Edward Said described Orientalism as a degree of racism, and I can only see me agree with his point of view. It is the stereotype formed to something you actually do not know about, and get one to believe that everyone in the community looks a certain way, behave a certain way, think in a certain way, without actually know if this picture keeps in court. As in this case, where my own formed image does not fit with the reality.
I felt ridiculous that I could judge a people from something as .. set. So it was not only in the 1900s that we let ourselves be seduced by the exotic, primitive and exciting culture. We are quite known nowadays aware that there is a difference between North African, Middle Eastern and East Asian cultures, but the stereotype of example, Muslim countries still exists. Even if others, like me, think that what we know is the truth.
Now I felt again quite calm inside. I was not the only one who had formed a picture of a bunch of hooded dark people who hang out in large buildings with huge domes and could only shout "Allah Akbah" and find Mecca using a compass. But therefore it was not working? Now I knew. "Turks are a civilized, educated, enlightened people, not all women wear burqas and face sørme since else on the menu than shawarma and falafel. It is a people equally with myself, a sensible peoples, "I thought while we were waiting for a big space unite mosque Hagia Sofia.
Realisation 2.0
This room was filled with unkempt pigeons that can not just moved, so we could pass. Just as we stood peacefully and without pigeons on the feet, came a police car rushing into the square. The two police men in the car had the great pleasure of chasing the pigeons on the run in their small fast lightning. Uncontrollably and almost hit me, they drove around the square in one great glory and jumble of pestbefængte pigeons, after which they disappeared, still full speed ahead into the chaotic but very civilized city.
There was my little, distorted brain back on overtime. How would I chew on this experience

Resultater (Engelsk) 3:

istanbulpretourmarch, cold, creepy, rain. brief description of denmark, as it looked before i packed my suitcase and went to istanbul. the weeks leading up to the departure, my mother told me that this country borders asia, is not part of the european union and that, furthermore, it is a muslim country without existing equality. i made us aware of my own prejudices about national stereotypes, which would give us a broader view of our observations in the country. i found the whole situation slightly silly, when i didn"t even felt that i was in possession of these "prejudices about national stereotypes". of course i was not one of those who condemned strangers in advance, it would be silly and, not least, stupid. "it"s not fair to judge people in advance when you haven"t met them, and certainly not a whole population," i thought to myself, and unleashed the glory, bright and clean hanging over my head.the realizationwhen i arrived in istanbul, i was a lot smarter. i got a shock; when i got off the boat in Üsküdar and for the first time in my life was on asian soil, i was expecting something. i expected something more. i expected people in baggy pants and fez and not worn jeans and t-shirt with mcdonald"s sign. basically, i had expected a city of similar nature with the city akraba which eventyrhelten aladin lives in, with small fine streets, lerhuse, frugtboder and shops where men with sword sells all types of lamps. instead, existed a big, chaotic, disorganized city filled with people and usoignerede homeless cats on the streets. vendors, old tørklædeklædte women storrygende men and people with circular saw - elbows struggled through the full streets, where it was only possible to walk in long rows, as small vraltende geese flock. the sound of car horn was not rare, as they were frequently used in the almost brainless traffic. not once i saw a sign, which tends to guide motorists when the boundary of the speedometer is reached in the streets, as in denmark, max 50 in urban; something like the dear turks would probably laugh easily, and otherwise overtake aunt ulla in the little purple smart car, driving, max 20. my drømmebillede on it exotic, warm, spicy asia disappeared quickly.anxietyhere i was felt oh and oh so ræverød and diverse. i was a racist? it made it a shiver down my spine. but it lies deep within all of us, we western europeans from the cold north. of course, we have, from the information each day we receive, formed a picture of how the people looks like and how it works. but it is a distorted picture, an exposed picture we get chunked in the head by reading about terrorists bombings, flag burning, honour killings and arranged marriages with cousin mohammed. edward said orientalisme described as a degree of racism, and i can only see me share his point of view. it is the stereotyped image formed over for something you really don"t know and get one to believe that everyone in the society in question looks a certain way, behave in a certain way, think in a particular way, without actually knowing whether this picture is in court. in this case, when my own formed picture not in line with reality.i felt ridiculous that i could judge a people out of something so... set. it was not only in the 1900s, we let ourselves to be seduced by the alien, primitive and exciting culture. we are admittedly conscious today that there is a difference between north african, middle eastern and far eastern cultures, but the stereotyped image of, for example, muslim countries still exists. also, although other, as i think that we know to be the truth.now i felt again calm inside. i was not the only one who had formed a picture of a bunch of hooded dark people who hung out in large buildings with kæmpekupler, which could only shout "allah akbah" and find mecca by compass. but why was it not okay? i knew now. "the turks are a civilized, educated, enlightened people, where not all the women wear the burka, and there is sure when other things on the menu than kebab and falafel. it is a people on an equal footing with myself, a reasonable people, "i thought while we were waiting on a big space for the mosque, hagia sofia.the realization 2.0this place was filled with usoignerede pigeons, not without just moved, so we could pass it. like we was peaceful and without pigeons on the feet, came a police car greased over the square. the two policemen in the car had the great pleasure of chasing pigeons on the run in their little rapid lightning. uncontrollably, and close to hit me, they were driving around on the square in one big glory and jumble of plague pigeons, and then disappeared, still in full speed into the chaotic, but very civilized city.there was my little distorted brain again in overtime. how would i chew on this o