this

 “This is Anatolia; no mystery has remained hidden under this earth for long!”

Buket Uzuner, Earth (Toprak)

uma boa maneira de dizer adeus a Buket Uzuner

"Like nearly everyone in Turkey, she, too, appreciated a refreshing splash of lavender eau de cologne, a ritual widely observed when welcoming guests, sending off restaurant customers or as a staple of long-distance bus travel, during which, every few hours, passengers cupped palms to an attending proffering cologne from a bottle. Belgin had even tried orange, lilac and pine cologne, as well as novelties like tobbaco, tea and banana, but nothing compared to lavender. Nothing."
Buket Uzuner em I Am Istanbul.

Istanbul

"There wasn't a hill, or a mountain, or even a slope in all of Copenhagen. It was a  narrow-hipped city, no breasts, no crown - a city level and straight, stripped naked, no mysteries to hide now or ever. Clean, organized, calm, and rich - it terrified me, me who'd just arrived from a city of simmering heat and the smell of figs, from late summer in Istanbul to early autumn in Copenhagen. Smells, colors, and sounds had disappeared: citrus sunsets, hawkers pushing wooden carts piled high with bunches of grapes and pomegranates, stray cats licking paws and haunches, lavender cologne, the pit-a-pat of Grandma's slippers, that strange song rising from the mosque in the seaside (I later learned that it was called the azan, the Arabic call to prayer), high windows framing ferryboats gliding along what I saw as an endless river, the Bosphorus, dust and laughter under the sycamore trees on those rare occasions Mother let me skid rope with the local kids... That I believed all of Istanbul lived as we did in Bebek, that all Istanbullu were wealthy. educated, and European, was not simply the product of a childish mind. Everyone cultivated this illusion, my entire family, my relatives, and my neighbours. But the dream was gone; it evaporated in Copenhagen, where they began treating us like Africans, Arabs, or Asians just as soon as they learned we were Turkish. They were astonished that my mother played Mozart, that my father had read Andre Gide in highschool, that in Istanbul we swam in the sea and walked on the beach in our swimsuits. And we were astonished in our turn, my mother, Nanny Kete, and me... Who were we after all? Why were we being treated like this?

I started primary school in Copenhagen, at an American school. For four years I spoke English at school, Danish on the street, Turkish at home and Kurdish with Nanny Kete, but the latter only when my mother, who worried that I would spoil my Turkish, wasn't around.
(...)
Ayahn had been as enticing as Istanbul, as full of promise."
Buket Uzuner, em I Am Istanbul.

heart ablaze

"But it is no mortal love, this love of Istanbul. They carry me always in their hearts, and to me they must return: homesick, pining, missing me to death, their hearts ablaze with an unquenchable love, solace for which can be found nowhere else. Once an Istanbullu, always an Istanbullu. I am the last song on the lips of dying exiles; I am pain and poetry; even to those who imagine they have left me of their own accord, I remain forever their lost home; for I am the smell of earth, the tang of sea, the stuff of dreams. I am Istanbul. City of magic, city of enchantment, object of the world's desire"
em I Am Istanbul de Buket Uzuner.