The day, on which I left my eyes in front of the door!

Karanlikta Yemek / Blind Dinner

The Galata Dialogue Association gave out a notice as;

“The one who will serve you are blind. What about a dinner in the darkness , to dine as if you are blind” …

I said “count me in” and went!
Neither my endless passion to Andrea Bocelli or my mono ocular friend Selim in İzmir, who struggled for several years to get a driving license, nor my openmouthed bow in view of the pictures of Mister Eşref Armağan; something else led me to say “yes”...

The name of our waiter was Gökhan... Neither the rice I ate, nor the water I drank; the only think of this night that I will remember is; he had velvety hands. Because the beginning sentence of our communication in the darkness were always his velvety hands, that touched my hand or my shoulder.

We are taken in:

The people who came to participate in the dinner stood in line in the darkness, with their right hands on the shoulder of the person ahead, they were guided to their table through the waiter of each group from a purple lighted room, into the dining room that was as dark as pitch.-

While waiting to be taken in, I noticed that we were looking with a worried but curious sadness to the face of each other.

We became blind voluntary! Just for 2-3 hours... What about they? How could they manage to live peacefully with their soul and without be astonished in this endless darkness?

The groups lined up and disappeared behind the black curtain that was opening into the room that was as dark as pitch. The rows looking like paternosters which’s beads are made of human, melt in the darkness and gone.

As if the tunnel behind the curtain were a black hole which is opening into a bottomless space. And we were waiting our turn to disappear voluntary...

The earth and the sky was black as the pitch... However like everywhere, the tables and the chairs and the other peoples as well ; no any living being appeared. Gökhan set me down to the table.

He took my hand and let me touch my knife, plate and glass. :

“Everything is here” he said.

I memorized the breadbasket, the salt and pepper shakers, my glass, my plate.

Neslihan was on my right side, however I tried to understand where the others were sitting, by turning my head involuntary to the directions of the voices.

A voice of a woman sounded in front of me, on her left side the voice of a man. I couldn’t distinguish the other peoples at the tables from their voices and couldn’t memorize them. Because my abnormal opening/closing sense organs faltered still in wonder.

Suddenly I recognized how much I missed my mother! Whereas I kissed her this morning.

My eyes brims with tears with the desolation of child that get lost in the bazaar.

I said to myself “shush, don’t cry”. The dinner will be soon over and you will go out; on the macadam roads of Galata you will pass the closing shops and the houses of which the lights turned off and you will look up to the sky.

This was a hope power; I gave to myself for passion. But what about the blinds? With which hope they cope this eternal darkness?

I felt ashamed of my cowardice and my palpitating inner world...

I heard laughter from the tables behind me, hum of voices. I never remember to get as such as annoyed because of the noises in a restaurant! My ears could nearly hear the salt grains falling on the plate from the side table ...

What kind of a perception change is it? I can’t explain the form of elongating the sensors and antennas into the sky ...

“I brought your salad” said Gökhan. He took my hand and put it on my plate. I never noticed how the blouse of a waiter smelled. This time, beside the softness of his hands, I also thought how clean his blouse smelled.
It is certainly a snow white blouse! However I couldn’t see it. The scent I smelled, sent me a subconscious doctrine as “clean=white”.

I put my fork into my salad. Exactly in the centre of my plate! As I took my fork into my mouth, there was no food on the fork. I touched the salad with my fingers. Everything I touched was sticky, oily and slippery. I couldn’t discern which one is a lettuce leaf, is there soybean sprouts, where is the tomato piece.

Bowing to the inevitable, I pressed with my fingers a piece of salad to my fork and put it in my mouth. ..

If you could know, what a bizarre brain game is occurring, while taking a bit “without knowing which taste your tongue will touch” -

Imagine if your eyes are closed, someone gives you a glass of lemonade by saying “ here, drink a glass of a yoghurt drink”. Your brain will be encoded to yoghurt and salt taste and is waiting to taste accordingly. The taste of the lemonade is also familiar, however to taste “sweet” instead of a “salty” taste is a contrary taste of the expectation of the brain; you are dining in the darkness exactly with same confusion...

To find the bread, I groped blindly on the table, first I upset the saltshaker – or the peppershaker- and without knowing why and to saying whom, a word came out of my mouth;

Sorry!

In the meanwhile I sensed that my brain gets tired due to open my eyes in the darkness and to see nothing and I noticed that I was keeping close my eyes all the time. It was in vain to keep them opened! At that time I understood why the blinds are keeping their eyes closed even if they can not see.

When I touched somewhere in the middle of the table, with someone else's fumbling hand -with a moving object- that was in search of bread like me, fearful an "oops" came out of my mouth… I was ashamed....

Rice, chicken and vegetable garniture were served. Gökhan told us with his careful and calm voice the content and the place he put down the plate, he touched my hand and helped me to memorize one by one their places into my memory.

Now my eyes were closed. Sometime a hope, may be there is light leaking, I opened my eyes and looked around. So what if I can see it? My eyes were always waiting for a little light to prove to myself in fun, that I am existing in a dark well hole. Utter darkness! It is not existing, there is no light! There is a sobbing feeling inside of me, I closed my eyes every time.

I thought I put rice into my mouth however it was a cabbage leave on the fork, I tried to take chicken, I could take only 3-5 pieces of rice on my fork and some of them was fallen on my lap.

Neslihan couldn’t find where she put her dinner napkin, a murmuring sound came from the table and it seemed as no one could venture to speak loudly... Whereas someone from the behind tables began to sing a Classical Turkish Music song. I thought that it is an absurdity to do this in the darkness, during such a dinner, I became angry...

Whereas now I am thinking; actually we want to sing a song of fear whilst passing a cemetery, there at that time we want to show ourselves that we are existing and want to confront with our other fears... I guess it was something like this, that made let them sing a song.

The desperation that commands someone to introvert, leads the other one to sing loudly a song.

The doors of some of our senses which we are living oblivious, were opened slightly to all of us. In the darkness the insignificant presence of water has been turned into a cool friend to us, some words I recognized through the hum of voices, have changed their meaning, I noticed that our nose offered us smells that makes us pleasure as much as touching. The olive oil had never such a strong smell in a salad. I also learned this night, making this much effort to put just a single rice into my mouth can cause stopping the appetite and that I can give up.

I also couldn’t imagine how a long time my hand should float in the darkness, to find the glass of Neslihan just to clink our glasses.

I swallowed my dessert with the grief of a beaten child. I stopped talking and couldn’t enter in a dialogue. I got heartburn. I ate mostly bread slices that were easily to consume. It seems that every plate was executed, everything in front of me was death!

My inner voice told to me violently “get up and get out” of the room. To finish the most courageous experience in my life the voice squalled “ just half an hour Ayşenur”, my human side said sit down.

To turn my patience into faith, I noticed that I was facing my own obstacles, almost I didn’t want to do this.

As I reached the darkest place of the darkness inside of me, a soprano a fabulous woman voice and a master guitar began to make music. Fortunately!

I had something inside of me that bled and thank god, I dressed the wound with this voice!

Consecutively we were secrets again. I held on to Gökhan confidently and left the room, at that time I was aware I am breathing, suddenly.

by loving myself and my belongings much more, I went to my house, my prejudices was smithereens, inside of me I had a heavy "what can I do more for them" sentence. I still can not believe that I can see. In the night I refused to sleep, I did not want to close my eyes, even with the knowledge of the existence of the moonlight that is penetrating peacefully into my room that is as black as pitch.

I zonked out.

I will never ever forget this… Never!

Andrea And / Ayşenur Yazıcı 10.02 2010