Culture & Travel

Bornova District, Izmir. With the hot sun beating down on my exposed neck, I quickly realize my boots, jeans and sweater were a bad decision for this cloudless, unimaginably hot coastal city. I look around for a place to buy sunscreen and a hat. Before I find a shop, I hear my name behind me.

Turning around, I see a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair in a pink shirt. Her name is Serra. She's a thirty year old engineer and a native of Izmir - and she'll be my host for the week.

We catch a taxi to her apartment in the waterfront district of Karşıyaka, and after a much needed shower and changing into a more suitable outfit, she brings me for a walk along the seaside to a popular cafe.

Having left the previous night from Malatya, the divide between religious, conservative Eastern Turkey and secular, liberal Western Turkey could not be more apparent: groups of students and young people sit on the grass by the Aegean Sea drinking alcohol and eating sunflower seeds; shirtless fishermen cast lines from the shore into the water, brown from the sun and dripping with sweat; and I can see women's hair, uncovered by a headscarf. In fact, I see more women in shorts during the brief walk to the cafe than I have in a month in the East. The theocrats over there would have a heart attack if they could see what I'm seeing.

I spot a spray-painted slogan on the side of a fountain: Aynasızlar = Katiller. While reading the graffiti over again, Serra catches my interest.

"Aynasızlar means 'the-mirrorless-ones,'" she says. "It's what we call the police in Izmir. They don't have a mirror - they can't see their own actions. This was written during Gezi Park, it means 'The Police are Murderers.'"

The Gezi Park uprising was a nation-wide protest in Turkey during 2013 in response to police brutality against treehuggers in Istanbul who protested the government's decision to build a shopping mall on the city's only nature reserve. In weeks of civil disobedience, marches and demonstrations, tens of protesters were killed by police and thousands more were injured or arrested.

"Gezi Park was like breathing for us," Serra says. "Finally we were able to show our government what was on our minds."

She told me Izmir has historically been a liberal city and a centre of European-like lifestyle and culture. In the November 1st elections, Izmir and the surrounding area voted for the left-wing CHP party, as opposed to Eastern Turkey which predominantly voted for the ruling AKP party, lead by President Tayyip Erdoğan.

"[Erdoğan] doesn't like Izmir. He thinks women should wear headscarves and have lots of children," Serra explains. "My mother wears a headscarf and my father is very nationalistic, but I will never wear a headscarf and I am happy with my Kurdish husband."

Serra embodies the mindset natives of Izmir have. After spending time in the East, her exposed hair, shorts and freedom-loving character seem more like a protest than a fashion choice to me. To her, though, it's just a normal Saturday evening.

We meet her friends at a cafe and sit down for dinner. I am introduced to Muhammet, a major in international relations with a focus on the incumbent Syrian migration and another native of Izmir. I take the opportunity to discuss his field of study over a much needed cold beverage.

"The language the media uses - words like crisis, problem, asylum-seekers - these all change our perception of the issues the Syrians are facing," Muhammet happily explains. "In turn, people perceive their security as being threatened. That's where you get support for all these crazy laws and where Donald Trump gets his support from. People are willing to give up a lot when it comes to security."

For the first time, I was having an intelligent conversation about Syrian refugees with a Turk. Usually, and especially in the East, these discussions take on a cruel and rather racist undertone, but the general consensus amongst most natives of Izmir was an assistance-based, rather than insult-based, approach to Syrians.

After eating our meal and walking back along the waterfront to our apartment, Serra showed me my room and wished me goodnight.

My following days in Izmir reinforced what I learned in my first night: the people want freedom for all walks of life - Syrians and women included; they respect unbiased education and secularism; and they resent every government attempt to incorporate more conservative, Islamic approaches when it comes to the people of Izmir.

They say landscape influences the character of its inhabitants. If this is true, then Izmir is the poster-child of this saying - it is a city where the hot sun, ultramarine sky and crystal-like waters reflects the warm and peace-loving personality of its citizens.