Nicole's Turkish Travels

my first independent adventure

Sunday, November 21, 2004

The Mystic Sufis

Click here before reading further.

Jelaluddin Rumi was born in present day Afghanistan in 1207 to a family of high social standing. His father was a well-respected judge (or jurist) and also known as the "Sultans of Scholars" in religion (if I understand my research correctly). His mother was the daughter of the ruler of Behl. The Mogul invasion forced his family to leave the land where they had been living for several generations, and as a result, he witnessed horrible things throughout his childhood, including a massacre sponsored by the Khwarizm King wanting to expand his territory (present day Uzbekistan). After living in several cities, including Bagdhad and Damascus, his family settled in Konya when Mevlana was twenty-two. He enrolled at the medrese (Islamic theological school, equivalent to present day universities) and began to study science and religion.

Two years later, his father died. With his father's passing, many people looked to Mevlana as his sole heir. By this time, Mevlana was already a distinguished lecturer in his own rite. He continued to study for the next decade to be an alim (professor) and at age 34 became an orthodox professor on religion and philosophy. He lectured, wrote books, and developed a following of disciples. At this time, he felt music and poetry were distractions and to be avoided. He also taught his followers, numbering over 10,000 at this time, to use logic over emotions.

In 1244, at age 37, he met a wandering dervish named Shams of Tabriz. There are a few stories telling of this meeting. One is that Mevlana meets Shams on his mule while he (Shams) is heading to Konya. Many of Shams' disciples are following him on foot. Shams asks Mevlana some questions mystic in nature, of which Mevlana is blown away. Following this, they spend forty days together, from which Mevlana is changed forever. Another story follows as such: Mevlana is lecturing one day, and Shams enters the room. Pointing to a stack of books, he asks the professor, "What is this?" The professor answers with great annoyance, "You don't know."He continues lecturing, and soon the stack of books catches on fire. Mevlana demands to know, "What is this?" Shams answers the same, "You don't know." Mevlana runs out looking for Shams, but is left lost and confused.

After meeting Shams of Tabriz, Mevlana abandoned all prestige and knowledge he had built up to that time. Shams inspired a spiritual awakening to which Rumi said, "What I had thought of before as God, I met today in a person." Shortly thereafter, Shams died and Rumi was devastated. He tried to find Shams again through prayer, and it was at this time that he began writing poetry. His most marvelous book, written at age 38, is Masnavi, consisting of more than 25,000 verses was a quest to find Shams. Originally in Persian, it has been translated into many languages and has inspired millions. In his poetry, he often uses words such as drunk, wine, gamble, and burn, words often associated with sin in most world religions. He uses them to talk about being drunk with Allah, or burning with love. When your heart is burning with love, he says, you are fully alive, full of compassion for everyone.

His name has a lot of meaning. The title "Mevlana" means "our master". "Jalal" (majesty) plus "din" (religion) equals "Majesty of Religion". He founded the Mevlevi Order of Dervishes, also known as the Whirling Dervishes of Sufism. While turning, they give themselves to Allah completely, mentally and physically, full of love. The turning, called Sema, is done in a space considered to represent the universe. A small circle in the center is the the pole and axis upon which everything depends. The floor is equivalent to the equator of Earth, seperating the two hemispheres. Singing and dancing is done by candlelight, and the circle dancing is done with arms extended just above the shoulders. The right palm faces up towards heaven, while the left palm faces down towards the world. The heart acts as a bridge between the two. The left foot is fixed while the right foot turns the body. The Internet isn’t working well at the moment, so to quote my friend in Ankara, “Whirling is being the way you were meant to be. Stars, the moon, the sun, people around the Kabe, everything is on the correct path as they are meant to be.” The moon whirls around Earth because there is an attraction. The dervishes whirl because they are attracted to Allah. They “fall in the fire” of God’s love and cook from “raw” to “burned”.

The dancing is set to Mevlana’s favorite instrument, the ney, which is what you are listening to now. He wrote a poem about it, called The Complaint of the Ney. The material used to make it was chopped from its land, beloved God, and is crying to be reunited with the beloved.

However, music need not be present for one to dance and attempt unity with God. It has been written that one day Mevlana was walking past a goldsmith’s shop and was pulled into spiritual ecstacy by the pounding sound of the hammer.

To close, here are some words of Mevlana on dancing.

'Dance where you can break yourself to pieces and totally abandon your worldly passion. Real men dance and whirl on the battlefield; they dance in their own blood. When they give themselves up, they clap their hands; when they leave behind the imperfections of the self, they dance. Their minstrels play music from within; and whole oceans of passion, foam on the crest of their waves.'

"Dancing is not getting up any time painlessly like a speck of dust blown around in the wind. Dancing is when you rise above both worlds, tearing your heart to pieces and giving up your soul."

If you would like to read more about Mevlana, click on any of these links.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

How to Make Börek

This is a yummy dish that can be made with spinach, meat, cabbage, or cheese. My hosts in Konya were gracious enough to let me photograph them while they made it. Now you can make it, too! It's really quite easy. Here's how to make the spinach variety:

how to make borek1

First, chop enough clean spinach to fill a large bowl.

how to make borek2

Then add a special kind of cheese called lor, that is a bit like feta without salt or oil. Also add a few dashes of red pepper flakes and salt and mix it.

how to make borek3

Now, take your packaged yufka (a very thin and slightly cooked dough composed of flour, water, egg, butter, oil, sugar, and salt--not to be confused with filo dough) and separate the thin circles very carefully. To keep them from taking up too much space, fold them into squares and place them to the side. Lay one piece out at a time slice it down the center to make a semi-circle. Seperate one egg. Mix the white part with a bit of milk and oil. Dribble some on the dough. Sprinkle a bit of the spinach mixture onto the long end of the dough, then roll it into the form of a snake, starting at the spinach end. Then roll the snake into a spiral and place it on a pan.

how to make borek5

When all your boreks on the pan, mix the egg yolk with some oil and paint them tops. Bake until golden brown on the edges. After you take it out of the oven, sprinkle a little water on them and cover until cool. You can use any ripped yufka to repair your spirals. If you don't want spiral borek, you can cover the bottom of a deep glass pan with a layer of yufka, dribble on the egg-white mixture, and put in a layer of spinach. Add a few more layers of yufka and paint the top layer with the egg-yolk mixture. The rest is the same.

Emine Hanim made this the day before for Bayram breakfast, the first daylight breakfast after the month of fasting. We all went over to her mother's for this special meal. Selvinur told me they go over there every year to celebrate her grandmother's Bayram.

You should have seen the pile of shoes outside her grandmother's apartment! (Turks don't wear outdoor shoes inside the house as a matter of cleanliness.) Selvinur's little cousin, Ayshe, was there and she was most adorable. As a matter of respect to elders, one is to kiss the top of their hand and press it onto your forehead. Everyone did put Ayshe's hand through the motions and then gave her some money. I think the money is generally given to kids when they are young. They are also given sweets since the name of this Bayram is called Sheker Bayrami or "sugar bayram".

We then all feasted on the most delicous breakfast I've had in a while. Olives, jelly, toast, 2 kinds of cheese, sausages, eggs, borek, and tea. Mmmmm, I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. It was really cool to experience this with a family, as I felt this meal was as important as Chritstmas dinner is to Christians.

After breakfast, half the family packed themselves into a small car with my luggage and whizzed me off to the bus stop. Next stop, Nevshehir in Cappadocia. Woo hoo!

But next time, I'll write a bit more about the mystic Sufis. Promise.

Empty Promises

What a day!

I was mildly unprepared for classes today, but I managed to pull through. First, I stood in for one of the other teachers who has been stuck in Istanbul for the last week and half because there are no flights out of there. She wanted to make it to the southeast part of Turkey to visit her family for Bayram, but never made it. Everyone travels during Bayram, and the flights have been booked solid. Second, I left all my books and lessons plans at home so I had to make a mad dash at the last minute. Thankfully I live near the school. Phew!

Then after all my lessons were over, Emma tells me that someone from English First wants to rent one of us teachers for about a week. There is a university in or near Gumushane (Goomoush-ha-nay) that had to let a teacher go, and the replacement is coming from Georgia. It's not far away, but I guess the replacement has to square things away there first. John turned down the opportunity, so guess who is the lucky star? I've pretty much decided that I'll go. I would teach an elementary course, so it wouldn't be too difficult. Plus, I like being thrown into things sometimes. So you may not hear from me for a week or so. It depends on how much time I have.

So, in order to fulfill the title of this entry, you may not see photos from Cappadocia for a while, as I promised yesterday. I'll probably be leaving tomorrow night!

Ah, I'm enjoying traveling around.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Trabzon to Konya

Neslihan had helped me buy my ticket the previous day, and since I didn't want to risk any chance of missing the bus I made sure to pack early. A couple hours before I was scheduled to leave, I called her up to ask her some silly question or other, and she immediately invited me over to her place. Since her apartment is closer to the bus depot than mine, I agreed and lugged my bags over there. As Turks do, Neslihan and her mother showered me with all kinds of things for the long journey: borek, little sweet rolls, biscuits, tangerines, chocolate, potato salad, water, phone numbers of friends, and even Neslihan's cell phone! With all this I boarded the bus feeling a bit like a donkey, but grateful nonetheless.

As I settled into my aisle seat in the center of the bus, I thought about how I would entertain myself during the next 13 hours. Since this was a night bus, about eight would be filled with sleep. I was thinking I could read some of my book, but I didn't think that for long. Turns out I was a very lucky girl because the woman sitting next to me spoke English. She's a literature teacher at a high school in Trabzon, and must teach in English sometimes. We hit it off really well and exchanged phone numbers with plans to hang out after Bayram. Woo hoo!

Pink Flower

At some point we dozed off and were awoken at midnight. The bus was stopping for half an hour so we had time to eat some warm food. The terminal was very fancy, with lovely artwork, waiters dressed in burgundy vests with gold trim, and even a sultan looking character to greet you at the door. An enormous cafeteria served everything: toast, soup, salad, main dishes, and desserts. In the center of the room was a small wooden terrace with luxurious material hanging on all sides. Inside were comfortable seats arranged around several Nargile pipes. Every now and then a man on the PA system would announce which bus was leaving. When ours was called, Canan (Jah-nahn) motioned for us to go. Then we climbed back on the bus, talked for a bit and fell asleep again. Eight hours later, we arrived in Ankara.

When I got off the bus, my atrophied muscles ached in a way I never experienced before. Walking never felt so good!

Neslihan's friend, Tashkin, met me as I disembarked and took me to another terminal just down the street. He made sure I got on the right bus, gave me my ticket, I have him a bag of hazelnuts and off I went.

The ride to Konya was uneventful. I wasn't as lucky as the first bus ride as I sat next to a girl who didn't speak any English and answered all my questions in complicated Turkish. So we didn't talk much. Shortly after noon, I arrived in Konya, hungry, thirsty, and having to desperately use the bathroom. (Since it was still Ramazan, I hardly touched the food and drink Neslihan and her mother gave me. I felt bad eating in front of people.)

Emine Hanim* (Em-me-neh Ha-nim) picked me up and we whizzed over to her beautiful 6 room apartment. She doesn't speak English, so my Turkish comprehension was being tested. She asked me how my trip was, if I had a plan for the rest of my holiday, why I came to Turkey, and about my family. I asked her questions about her as well. She's a dashkent in archeology and art history at Selchuk University, has two children, Selvinur (girl, 16) and Selchuk (boy, 10), and is married to Hashim Bey* (Ha-shim Bay), an archeology professor at the same university. This was the beginning of my 6 day Turkish lesson. After a quick bite to eat, we went over to the Mevlana Museum.

Whirling Dervishes

Who is Mevlana? Mevlana Celadleddin Rumi was a Sufi mystic, poet and philosopher prominent in the 1300s. He advocated tolerance, charity, goodness, and positive reasoning through love, and started the Mevlevi sect of Islam. A radio announcer back in the States has called the Mevlevies the "Unitarians of the Muslim world." In fact, I think it's the other way way around; the Unitarians are the Mevlevi's of the Christian world, but I guess it doesn't really matter since the message is the same.

Rumi's Tomb

One of the Unitarian hymns is based on one of Mevlana's writings.

Come, come again, whoever you are, come!
Heathen, fire worshipper or idolatrous, come!
Come even if you broke your penitence a hundred times,
Ours is the portal of hope, come as you are.


For the rest of the week, I was singing the adapted version I know:

Come, come, whoever you are
Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving
Ours is no caravan of despair
Come, yet again, come

Calligrahpy, Mevlana

The tomb itself was amazing. Sufi music was playing softly on the loudspeakers and people were murmuring prayers all around his resting area. Large calligraphy decorated the walls, while various artifacts were on display in the center of the room. I felt a sort of comfort I never felt in churches. This was a holy place where I could appreciate the beauty of everyone and everything around me without feeling like guilty about having human faults.

After I got back to Trabzon, Neslihan and her mother told me that Mevlana's father asked not to buried next to his son because he felt his son to be too great to be buried next to an ordinary man. He was buried next to Mevlana anyway, and apparently his father's body has risen a few degrees on the torso end, in order to get up and lay somewhere else. I'll check this out next time I go there.

Old copies of the Koran were also on display.

Koran in gold

The Koran is so beautifully decorated! Even free copies have exquisite artwork inside. Some people sell itty-bitty Korans in an itty-bitty leather pouch so one can keep it near their heart.

There were several domes, but here are just a couple.

dome, Mevlana

dome2, Mevlana

Can you imagine how many hours it must have taken to paint those patterns? And all in the name of love.

Well, friends. I have many more photos of Konya, but I'll show them to you in the next couple weeks. I have uploaded my monthly limit for now.

I still have several more photos to show you however. After the weekend I'll show you some of Cappadocia! Ah, I know you're impatient to see that wonderful place, so here's a sneak preview of some fairy chimneys.

pb2

I love you all.

*In Turkish, one refers to older individuals as Hanim (Ms) and Bey (Mr) after their names as a sign of respect. Neslihan's mother insists I call her Fadime Teyze, or Aunt Fadime.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Introduction to my Cappadocia Travels

Wow, so much happened in a week, that I can't possibly tell you everything all at once. I'd be sitting here for a two days straight! From the 30+ hours I spent on buses, new friends in Konya, fellow hotel guests, and Turkish musicians, my travels were sometimes unbelievably strange and other times simply exhausting.

I now see Trabzon as a bit less exciting, but I'm glad to be back. Sometimes excitement is overwhelming. In any case, I hope that as you read about my adventures, you laugh and you cry with me as the stories unfold.

Oh, as always, ask me questions! I love hearing from everyone.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

From Cappadocia

Hello, Darlings!

I have a couple hours before my bus leaves, so I thought I'd let you all know that I have had an oustanding time here. My Turkish is getting a lot better; I'm now able to conversate with shopkeepers without many problems understanding. I have also successfully bargained with some things. Yeah!

Now I have a 14 hour bus ride to look forward to. Lucky me!

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Bayram (bye-rahm)

Tomorrow is my last day of work for 9 days!

Ramazan is ending soon and there is a three day holiday to celebrate. Three days plus nothing doesn't equal nine, so how am I so lucky? The three days fall on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, which happens to be right in the middle of my work week. The weekend classes won't come for just one day, and the week classes won't come for one day either, so classes have been cancelled for Sunday and Wednesday. My weekend is Thursday and Friday. Added all up, it's this Thursday to next Friday. Yeehaw!

Last Friday, my student (and now friend) Neslihan, had me over for dinner again (photos coming). We had a great time! I told her that I'm planning on going to Cappadochia for Bayram and she gave me the phone number of a couple in a city a couple hours away, Konya. These friends have friends in Nevshehir, which is the biggest city near Cappadochia! Tomorrow she's taking me to the bus agency so I can get my bus ticket. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

I've been feeling a bit cooped up here in Trabzon. It's quite small compared to Istanbul, but at times I feel a bit cooped up because it's much more crowded than Madison. The streets are narrower, and the pollution smells different. I'm getting used to it, but open space will do me some good.

Also last Friday, I met a couple from Switzerland who rode their bikes here! It was great meeting them as we spoke German the whole time! They have a website which is in German, but check out their photograpghs. They have over 500! They are planning on going all the way to India cut back across Africa before heading home. They are avoiding the Arabian penninsula by taking a boat around it to get to Africa. I don't remember how they are getting to India though. All in all, they expect to be on the road for two years. Anyway, check it out. www.velocos.ch Monika and Robbie are really great photographers. Oh, "durch die Turkei" means "through Turkey".

Well, it's been an hour now since I started writing this post. See you after Bayram!

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Oooooh, I'm so angry!

Along with everyone else in the world, I'm hella pissed off about this election. I was just on the indy media website (the call it the sElection) and guess what I found? News from my good ol' alma mater, Beloit College.



Beloit President Supports Students Against Challenges to Voting

Megan Roche, 02.11.2004 12:48

A Republican lawyer challenged Beloit College students'

registrations, and Beloit's president came with a notarized
list of students and laywers to support the voters.

This just in from LPOV-Beloit! This morning in Beloit, WI a

lawyer for the Republicans was challenging Beloit College
students saying that they could not register same day with
their Beloit student IDs. The Beloit college president came
down to the polls with a notarized list of the students and
lawyers to fight for the students' right to vote!! Now students
are witnessing registrations, the lines are out the door as they
have been since 8 am this morning and the majority of those in
line are college students who are signed up or signing up for
our SLATE!!!

Rock it Beloit!!




Also, check out this website for more information on how electronic voting machines changed people's ballots without leaving a paper trail. How can this be legal? Are there protests all over the place in the US? It's not in the news at all. What's going on?

http://portland.indymedia.org/en/2004/11/302237.shtml

Here is something else I found:



Electric voting machines in a precinct in Columbus Ohio gave
George W. Bush 3,893 votes while giving John Kerry 260. Yet
only 638 ballots were cast. This is according to Matthew Damschroder,
director of the Franklin County Board of Elections.


What is happening? Are we living in medieval times? Someone said that Jeb is thinking of running for president next? If this continues, we'll never have a voice in who runs the nation again! Oh, I wish I was home now so I could do something! Wait, I can do something from Turkey. I'm going to write a letter to the guy who stole our election yet again. He's cunning, but he's not that clever. I almost feel like writing a letter isn't enough. Perhaps we can convince our representatives to impeach the man.

Oh, but I just thought of something else.

If he can get away with rigging the presidential election, who's to say he can't rig the votes for other elected officials? That would explain why the Republican party is the majority in Washington now. Oh, my anger has plummeted to despair.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

The elections have depressed me

Many of my students are asking me, "Why did Bush win?" Why, indeed. I just tell them Fox News is to blame. Thanks Rupert Murdoch.

Kyle sent me this letter from some guy in Britain. I almost cried when I read it.


The neo-conservative administration got another 4 years,
but with worldwide dissent. They won the electoral
campaign playing Americans' fears, insecurities, and
ignorance like a finely tuned instrument.

They took the opportunity to manufacture public dissent
for corporate imperial war in Iraq. They blatantly lied that
Iraq had connection to the World Trade Center destruction,
in furthurance of their agenda of U.S. military/corporate
enforcement and domination throughout earth--Project for
a New American Century.

They sent American young people to fight, die, kill, and
maim in corporate imperial war. Iraq's citizens once
again live in a U.S. corporate war zone that is their home
and community.

Few have died compared to the millions in Viet Nam and
SE Asia, which somehow never fully woke up American
people to the harsh and unjust realities of global militarism.

Thank the skilled use of propaganda broadcast via corporate
controlled media, and television boxes willingly turned on to
pollute minds and communities.

They lie and lie. They live in a glass house. False Christian
leaders playing on the ignorance and fear. Keep the pressure
on. Power based on fear and ignores should not last, if we
have anything to do about it.
Dear America,I know that about half of your population is
waking up this morning to the awful and disgusting reality
of a second term of the Bush administration. It's okay to cry.
It shows you care. It's okay to be angry too.The rest of the
world hasn't given up on you. We, the Brits, still love you at
least; we love your crazy mispronunciations of our language,
your Wild West style gun laws and inhumanly sized portions in
your restaurants. You're still our brothers and sisters and
we're here with a hug to say, "it's all going to be okay." We,
after all, lived through Margaret Thatcher. We too are
political casualties. I just wanted to share a few words; to
extend the olive-branch of friendship and compassion to those
of you who got off your arses, or at least sat up, and took an
interest in politics this time around. I understand your previous
apathy, but don't be disheartened by this loss. Don't give up hope.
There are many great positives you can take from this. Just hear
me out. Your will and determination to rally against Bush took
a relatively obscure, though pleasant enough, candidate and
turned him into a contender. It looked hopeless at one stage,
but you guys pumped him uplike the frickin' Hulkster! It went
to the wire and, for that, you should pat yourselves on the back.
In a campaigning atmosphere that played so cruelly and
under-headedly on people's most basic ignorances and fears,
neither candidate was going to emerge unscathed. As it turned
out, Bush was willing to get dirtier than anyone could have
expected and actually went as far as to SCARE people into
voting for him. You know that something had gone awfully
wrong when swathes of the population were adamant that
a vote for Bush was a vote for Jesus; you'd think they were
voting to dissuade the apocalypse itself! Not you, the
Democrats, or Kerry, could compete in the face of such
vitriolic ignorance. By appointing Bush you have, by happy
co-incidence, united Europe. Europe has never agreed on
anything! However, overwhelmingly Bush is hated over
here--even our Conservatives dislike the guy! The man
has united us over these past few years as a force against
the damaging foreign policy of his administration. We,
combined with non-violent political dissent from you, can
strongly hold him to account. We can make a positive
difference. And we will, because, these past few years,
many of us realized just how much we care about the
world and about other people. The humanitarian,
environmentalists and progressives in many of us were
awoken in a profound and amazing way. Suddenly we
really cared. We were starting arguments with people
all over the place, holding politicians to account because
of a profound belief in our hearts that we were DOING
THE RIGHT THING. Don't let this be the high-water
mark of political activism. For those of you who just
cannot bare it anymore then you should claim political
asylum and move to the UK. I have a spare room here
in Brighton which is available.

Peace and love.

When Bush was campaigning the first time 'round, I remember hearing on NPR that Nixon actually appointed some Supreme Court Justices who voted for Roe vs Wade. While I believe we are much greater danger now than during Nixon's time, maybe more people will be motivatied now to work for change and that some good will come of this.

G'night folks.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

The rush before Iftar

Wanting to stretch my legs, I went for a walk about an hour before Iftar today. Down the hill to the sea was peaceful and refreshing. As I headed back to the city center (from now on known as Meydan), the atmosphere became a frenzy of people, cars, horns and lights. A man was yelling and selling apples from the back of his truck, people crowding around him to get their apples first. From the bakery, a crowd spilled onto the street as people waited to get bread hot out of the oven.

people

Throngs of people waited at choice intersections for dolmushes and buses to take them to their destination. Some men carried packages of food wrapped in paper while others bore large steaming pots on their shoulders. At the restaurants, tables were set with multiple place settings with baskets of bread. Inside, tables were packed with people.

soup

Behind the counter, cooks ladled soup into bowls over stacks of plates full of salad, which the waiters brought to the patient customers who must wait until the sun sets before they can eat. Two doors down, a sweet shop was empty and without patrons, its shelves bursting with freshly baked goodies. Shopkeepers close up, leaving the lights on inside. Then in almost an instant, the streets are emptied. Everyone dissappears from the streets, save the lone dolmush here and there.

This is my favorite time. I can walk the streets without worry of being honked at or run over. Nobody looks at me and calls out random English or German words. Nobody says, "she's a tourist," or "heh, foreigner!" I am free, moving with ease through the narrow streets. I can step anywhere, left or right, forward or back. The wind blows the hair out of my face, my arms relax and swing at my sides. The space is wide open and I can breathe. Aah. . .




Monday, November 01, 2004

Photos galore, baby

Spice Market

This here is the entry way to the spice market. I still feel a bit shy taking out my camera, so I promise to put more photos up later.

Muzafer and I

Here is Muzafer, the pastry shop owner. He's always excited to see me. Last night he gave me figs!

Meydan Park Lights

Light sculpture near Meydan Park.

Bizim Market

This is the market at the bottom of my hill where I buy all my produce. These guys are teaching me all the Turkish words for food. For instance, the Turkish word for pear is armut.

Fresh Figs are a'plenty

These are incir (in-jihr). Dried figs just don't compare.

I wish everyone knew about this!

Look what I found by accident.

http://alterx.blogspot.com/

Pass this around to all your Republican friends. Along with everyone else, I'm getting anxious. I'm sure I would be feeling worse if I was actually in the States right now. From what I hear, the media situation is worse than a nightmare.
 

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