The beauty of chaos
Neologismism is the suggestion to not only use new words (neologisms) but to dive into what they express. After one week of Istanbulism I think that I am allowed to report ohm mani padme hung my experience of – mostly – chaos and – not so much – order, of – some – improvisation and a – disturbed – vision: chaordic improvision.
The amount of random situations and bizarre scenes in the last seven days is astonishing. As I write the electricity keeps falling out – and coming back occasionally. Sitting on my bed – in a freshly built building for future technical university students – random pieces of speech and murmuring voices enter my room through an open window mixing with the wave like sound of an empty fridge. -
Sometimes turkish policemen pass by, taking care that no women enter the men’s dormitories. Outside of my window construction workers are smoking, sitting on plastic chairs and “His Excellence Mr. Nizah Gahib Abdelsallam, Ambassador of the Republic of Sudan” – as the A4 in his window proudly announces – is having a party next door. -
As I walked out to buy cigarettes beyond the military fence that protects us I saw a mosque in green light. Workers are fixing illuminated letters on the building that I am sitting in with a crane. Despite the unfriendly concrete dust scenario of the campus, people – from all nations – are gathering in small groups, hanging out.
On the way back to my room I came across the cafeteria building – which is far too small for so many people. During the last week this resulted in hundreds of meters long lunch queues and exhausting – permanent shouting style – communication circumstances.
I finally got me a chai from a garbage pile – a table with hot water and tea bags. All kinds of colorful, confusing messages were hanging from the walls, written on big pieces of paper. Surrounded by trash, strange languages, random people and objects – enjoying the air condition – I thought: “registration should be over by now – after a week.” What a massacre!
Tomorrow the “Action Days” will start. From friday to monday the participants will be taking part in twenty seven different “social change projects” all over turkey. My high expectations are nourished by the amazing disorganisation and undesign of this event so far. Everything is perfectly planned. Like the “Istanbul Action Plan”. – Twenty eight people were hired, eight have remained, to work out “the plan” to save the world which will then be presented as “outcome” of this summit.-
Which reminds me of the opening ceremony: twelve brilliant speeches by turkish politicians and other important people, on a huge stage in front of – after a while – mostly empty chairs. The whole place embedded in thick clouds of barbecue smoke carried by the wind from behind the scenes. Simultaneously a crowd of a thousand starving people, waiting for their meat, shouting: “We want to eat! We want to eat!”
Or the great Bosporus boat trip! Two hours late – just in time for the darkness after the sunset. A completely! filled boat full of outraging youngsters. At least nobody died! When else do you have the chance to have a conversation with one thousand five hundred people at the same time? But the highlight was definitely when the lights of the Ataturk bridge turned from blue to orange, everybody agreed.
“My dear president…” , “We are not here to have fun”, “We will change the world” – again bits of sounds are reaching my ears. “His Excellence” is arguing with a fellow. Oh man, this place is crazy! We will see what happens in the next days… I am ready for the beauty of total chaos.