Personal Perspectives Tears For Turkey

Susan Vorhand, Ph.D.

Their world, their lives have literally collapsed. No adjectives can describe the enormity of the devastation. The area that was hit with an earthquake of 7.8 magnitude for about 100 seconds, which must have felt like a lifetime, is the size of the Netherlands. Tremors were felt as far away as Greenland.

The devastation occurred in the middle of the night. I hope that they were sleeping and never knew what hit them. But with freezing weather and hunger, no sanitary conditions, even after the ground has steadied itself, the survivors are still so vulnerable.

A week in, the death toll, including that of Syria, is 36,000. Yesterday they counted 28,000 dead. It is likely to rise further. (It did, to 46,000.) And these numbers reflect only those that can be identified. Under the heaps of an earthquake, it was astonishing to see whole bodies being pulled out. I imagine most are not intact. Some are being buried in pieces. And of course, there are the many injured.

Most heart-wrenching is the baby born buried under the rubble pulled to safety still attached by the umbilical cord to her dead mother. Thousands want to adopt her. Me as well. Two days later, a baby, a few days old, is rescued with his mother.

A five-year-old is pulled to safety, along with big cheers from the lookers-on. He had a huge smile on his face. I hope his family is alive to take care of him. If not, I will adopt him, too.

In another miracle, a mother and two children were extracted alive after four days.

The news shows an image of an older woman howling, arms raised to the heavens. Who knows what she has lost? A home, a daughter, an entire family.

For the most part the Turkish are a strong, stoic, resilient people. You ask a guy fallen on the street if he is okay. He’s been shot, his mother has had a heart attack and is in the hospital, his sister abducted and his father in jail but he will respond “Iyi”— “I am fine.” But now, a man who finds the body of his young daughter emits a shrill cry and declares, “The whole world has fallen on my head.” It has indeed.

I feel a connection to Turkey and a personal kinship with the Turkish people. I read books written by Turkish authors, have been studying the Turkish language, and have watched numerous Turkish films, mostly taking place in beautiful Istanbul. I have quipped that you can set me down anywhere in Istanbul and I’d find my way.

The people, as well as the country, are exquisitely beautiful. I subscribe to a gorgeous, sophisticated magazine, Cornucopia. Its glossy pages, arresting photographs, and elegant writing make it a delight. It’s the only magazine I keep.

Noach’s Ark is said to have rested atop Mt. Ararat. I’ve seen photos of what appears to be its imprint. That alone would make a visit worthwhile.

I had been talking to my granddaughter about Turkey, singing its prais- jewelry, and furniture.

Istanbul is close enough to the epicenter of the earthquake to still be at risk.

In the rural mountains, the countryside, there is a less sophisticated Turkey, to be sure. Chickens and cows roam and honor killings still occur.

The last glimmers of hope of finding any more people alive in the rubble are dim. (Postscript: After a full week a few people were still found.) The aftershock count, the PTSD, will be enormous.

This is a tragedy of biblical pro- portions—apocalyptic. What with 9/11, COVID-19, Putin’s war, and now this, it seems that all that ought to happen next is for Moshiach to come. May it be so.

The word for “victim” in Turkish is ”kurban.”

Susan Vorhand holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology. She particularly enjoys exploring psychology and spirituality within Judaism. With her Soul-Centered approach to healing, she has lectured and facilitated programs regionally and internationally. She is the author of the book The Mosaic Within: A Healing Alchemy of Self and Soul. She enjoys the Arts in many forms: painting, mosaics, poetry and songwriting, metalworking, and willow weaving.

FOR THE 50+ FRUM WOMAN

es and saying how I’d like to go there. Later she told me that she had discussed what I’d said with her friends. I asked her what she had told them as we’d spoken for quite a while. “That it’s better than Italy,” she said. I hadn’t used that phrase exactly, but that is what she derived. It seems that people know of Italy’s grandeur and beauty, yet many believe Turkey to be a third-world country.

Istanbul is the only city in the world that spans two continents (Europe and Asia). Many cross the bridge over the Bosphorus daily, living on one side, and working on the other. It is a highly sophisticated city of 15 million. The city has splendid architecture, stately homes, and exquisite designs in fashion,