"I
moved to Istanbul in 2007. The largest form of protest I witnessed back then
was the march organized to protest the death of an editor and chief of weekly
Armenian paper- AGOS. Never did it cross my mind that only few years later I am
going to be part of something special, something that for some has been coined
as the greatest thing that happened to the people of Turkey ever since the last
coup in the 80s.
Many faces of occupygezi
There
she was standing on the edge of a construction block throwing stones to the
protesters. “Here take some more”, she was shouting through a medical mask that
covered her face (a common accessory used by many of the protesters in Istanbul
and across Turkey). I turned my camera and started taking photographs of this
woman in her 50s, maybe 60s. It was hard to tell her age, only her graying hair
was giving it away. For me she was just another icon of the #occupygezi
protests similar to the woman in red and a woman in black (the list got longer
as the protests escalated, with a young man playing a guitar boldly in front of
TOMA vehicle, a naked man and later the standingman).
All
these people together with tens of thousands more were taking the streets
protesting. For some occupygezi was about protecting nature, for others
standing up for their rights, their freedoms, their choices and the
authoritarian grip of the ruling Justice and Development Party.
I
was in Taksim square on May 31st, holding my camera and trying to
breath through the thick smoke of tear gas. For the first time in my life, I
tasted tear gas and pepper gas. For the first time in my life I saw water
canons. The brutality of Turkish riot police reminded me of my home country
Azerbaijan and how our police used violence to disperse crowds of people
whenever they took the streets in recent years to protest its own government.
Later
weeks became a routine- meetings with foreign journalists late at night, walks
in Gezi Park, interviewing protesters, watching police intervene, and the
never- ending feeling of resistance and solidary in the eyes of many of the
faces of Gezi Park protests.
My
camera was ready, capturing moments, the faces, just like that woman-throwing
stones. At times it felt peaceful and at times, the scenes in Taksim square, on
Istiklal and in many parts of Turkey felt no less than war scenes from
movies.
Twitter
and Vine became my best friends while covering the Gezi Protests. My camera and
the photographs were proof of how one country and its brave people can change
its destiny.
These
days, I feel a different kind of Turkey. I feel like people have finally woken
up and are ready to challenge the government that isn’t too ready to accept
this challenge and face the reality of the Turkey it has created and at times
forced upon its people.
For
many this is a new beginning. As a foreigner living in Turkey, this new
beginning feels exhilarating. But what is more important is not to lose this
momentum. There is a long path lying ahead of Turkey now. How it is shaped now
depends on its people as much as it depends on its government.
As
for me… my camera is ready so as me, to see and be part of this change…"
