distorted pollyanna

Early in the movie Oppenheimer, Oppenheimer is asked whether he was happier in Cambridge, UK compared to in his home country, USA. He answers, “No. I was homesick and emotionally immature ...”

I watched Oppenheimer at delphi LUX during my sabbatical in Berlin to complete my Barbenheimer, more than a month after I watched Barbie at Cinema Victoria in Cluj after VLDB Summer School. (I watched Barbie two more times afterward.) As soon as I heard Oppenheimer’s answer, I searched for my notepad and pen in my bag in the dark of the movie theater. I scribbled the answer in my notepad without seeing what I was writing. It was an answer I could deeply relate to when I think of the years I lived in Lausanne, Switzerland.

 

Whenever I visit Turkey, it is common for me to receive a question that starts with “Do you miss …”

Do I miss Turkey / Istanbul? No. I miss my parents, close family members, and friends, but not the place. 

Do I miss Zonguldak (my hometown)? No. I visited Zonguldak once in 15 years. Most of my family and friends don’t live there anymore.

Do I miss the food in Turkey? No. My eating habits used to be mocked by the fellow Turkish PhD students at EPFL for not being Turkish-like. This topic even found its way into my PhD defense ceremony video prepared by close Turkish friends. Also, I don’t need to be in Turkey to prepare the food I like for myself, since I am not picky about having the exact ingredients. Finally, as my dad likes to say, “The important thing is not the food on the table but the people around it!”

This doesn’t mean that I don’t love and care about Turkey or I don’t like visiting it and eating the food there. At this point in my life, being able to speak with people who can comprehend what I say in my native language is a luxury, and, sure, the tomatoes taste much better in Turkey. The difference is I don’t long for places or food anymore the way I did back when I lived in Switzerland. I only feel homesick for the people, and my people are scattered around many places.

I wrote about Home back when I lived in San Jose. It was my time there that made me redefine homesickness. First, San Jose became a generous home for me over time; it made me realize that I can have homes at other countries. Second, its distance to Turkey, compared to Switzerland, and the longer stretch of time I spent there without visiting Turkey forced me to look at the bigger picture; I can bare not visiting Turkey if I have to, but I need to find ways to visit the people that are part of my home or to have them over for visits.

These days, I am lucky that I get to feel like I arrived home in Copenhagen, Istanbul, Chicago, Paris, London, Stuttgart, Munich, and maybe even Zurich. Except for Copenhagen, this is because of the people that welcome me in these locations, value my presence regardless of my work affiliation, and give me a place to crash and let go of my armor.

 

During my sabbatical last year, I visited Copenhagen twice. The first visit was roughly after a month of stay in Berlin. It wasn’t because I missed Copenhagen. I wanted to attend ITU’s Teaching Award ceremony, since I was the recipient of the award that year. It was also a good excuse to see Sister in Movies and other buddies in Copenhagen. After the Hamburg-Copenhagen train passed the Danish border, I started to hear more and more Danish around me compared to German. This triggered an unexpected feeling of calm. I was back in the land where I built another home.

 

When I lived in Lausanne, whenever I arrived in Geneva airport, I felt disappointment.

When I lived in San Jose, whenever I was coming back to US from Turkey, I was upset at the airport in Istanbul but was fine by the time I landed in San Francisco.

Now, I look forward to arriving in both Istanbul and Copenhagen.

I recently re-read A Game of You; the 5^th volume of The Sandman series. It is hard to pick a favorite from The Sandman, but if I absolutely had to, I would pick A Game of You, which also has a Barbie character. It was that Barbie that I quoted in the Home post: “I don’t think home is a place anymore. I think it’s a state of mind.” I am grateful for all the people and the places that help me enter that state of mind.