I found objects from my childhood here in the old small traditional shops.
This city reminded me of the small town I was born in the south-east(of Turkey). The friendly and very helpful people, the yellow dust, the streets, the shops, the heat, the agressive light but most of all ..the language. The native language of my grand parents.
Then, I was back to my 5 years old times where nothing much happened. I felt back my grand mother (who passed away 3 years ago) then my grandfather(that we lost even before)
I had this sweet feeling, this lightness and I wanted to name it as "Peace".
Then I thought of the city of Baghdad. It must have been a place like this one and like my hometown. They must have been like that at those days when I was five. The kids, the streets, the ladies' smiles and charm in those black dresses(abayas), the dark tanned skinny guys with their big moustaches, their mind occupied with in their trades, the big smokers that they were..
Where are they all now?.. My grandmother's kitchen utensils, my five years old me, my grandfather, Baghdad..
Here in these streets, in this language.
In the old souq I found them.
Something we all are looking for, lost in the empty feeling of the tempting big shopping malls with corporate brands, but never achieve to have it back. We all are looking for this sweet feeling, this lightness of the peace in our personal history.