In the cold

Today was Görkem day. I went by foot from Buse's house (near Kocatepe) to Görkem's house (near I really don't know where). It's funny because Barish and Zelosh thought I couldn't make it. In Ankara, street signs are as rare as Smart cars or black people. It's quite difficult to locate and move from a place to another. Luckily, Selay had shown me the way once, by car. So I can go by myself now...It's only a half an hour walk or so.

Görkem is waiting for me. She's all maked-up and ready for the photos. Since there's no translator, we use the ten Turkish words I know a and a pc with Google translate to understand each other. And it works. She explains me a lot of things, about her life, what she has to endure, her beliefs and what she will do tonight. Too long to put all the details here, but she used to be a painter, stayed in Germany for two years, knew sex work when she was not even twenty, she believes in God and energy, praise Allah but don't go to church, and tonight she will work nearby. I take pictures of her while she's getting ready. Görkem tells me she used to be a beautiful woman. But Johnson Baby Oil injections trans-friend gave her modified her face. She can't afford a treatment. Görkem doesn't complain, but you can feel her suffering. The days she has to go out of her house, she takes three tranquilizer pills plus three beers to be able to endure the people glance on her. While we are chatting and doing photos, she has a phone call. Half an hour later, the bell rings. Customer. I quickly hide in the kitchen. The customer comes in. They go in the red-lighted room. I wait quietly in the living room, watching the news on TV. Two days ago, the DTP party (legal pro-kurdish party. PKK is the "illegal" branch. A bit like Sinn Fein and IRA. By the way, if you say Pey-Ka-Ka it means you're anti-kurdish. If you say Pey-Key-Key, you're pro-kurdish. Choose your side). was banned. Huge street fights started in Adana, south east of Turkey. The movement grew bigger. And tonight riots sparkled in central Istanbul. Ankara is spared, since 1/ it's the capital 2/ they are SO many cops in town you can barely blow your nose in the street (in Turkey, it's impolite to blow your nose in public. I got cold. My nose is quite big so I make a looooot of noise when I blow. I really like to see the reaction of the people when I do that. Yeah. Simple pleasures). Speaking of which yesterday I went to Burger King. Ok, I know. Bad cholesterol. But. Good sensations.

We finish the photo session with Görkem in the street not far from where she works. She asks me to do it quick. She's quite nervous, and keep moving. The light is low, so I have to tell her to please stand still. I do a couple of shots. Et hop. Done. On the way back home, I stop in a bakery and take some Turkish delights. Each bite you take, a European dietetician dies.

This morning I go to Toprak. I'll do a couple of shots and an interview. It's quite funny because Toprak and his girlfriend are so in love they keep kissing and cuddling. So it's hard not to have thousands of the same photo. I'll see...   

Oh, and they are no Smart cars in Ankara because there's no Smart dealer in Ankara. As for black people, I must admit I exaggerate a little bit. I saw three since I'm here. 





Almost.












Red room.













Mirror check.













Ayda, morning glory.

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