Stare

Stare

Especially when I was younger (but truthfully still relevant), I loved receiving attention. Everybody does. As my brother and I were enjoying a late Turkish tea last night, we were talking about how kids will do anything to receive attention or a response from their parents. If they are mad for example, they will slam a door shut-waiting for a response whether positive or negative. Then when there is no response, that child may slam a book onto a table, wait, cry a little bit, and become angrier with lack of response.
Regardless, everyone loves attention.
There are certain types of attention people usually don't enjoy. My example from the land of Turkey is staring. 

Do you ever feel like someone is staring at you? (but when you look at them, they are not) I have. Except, every time I turn to discover if someone is looking at me, they are. And they do not turn their eyes away from me.

Staring is when someone is judging you.

Let me tell you how I have arrived at this conclusion. Staring is a form of observation. Observations, however, are sorted out in your mind instantly. They can be classified as right or wrong, good or bad, liberal or conservative, and a million other things. These classifications are imbedded into your conscience based on your background, upbringing, experiences, and your opinions based on those experiences. Therefore, every fact and observation that enters your mind via your senses is automatically sorted. It is almost impossible for a person to make an observation and objectively avoid judging.

Therefore: staring = judgement (not in all cases such as when someone is so beautiful you literally cannot turn your eyes from theirs)

Anyways, let's relate this rant to my experiences.
Today is a day of traveling. We are crossing the countryside via bus. The first bus we took from Cappadocia to Kayseri was about an hour. I sat next to my father and my brother ended up not having a seat. The bus attendant (two per public bus) came and said something to me while motioning for me to come with him. I got up out of my comfort zone to provide a seat for my brother and sat next to an elderly woman in full dress. 
(as a side note, buses are organized males on one side and females on the other unless you are married)
When I walk down aisles or stand in buses, I expect stares. I am a young woman who is showing her hair, ankles, and American origin. But have you ever been stared at for an hour?

A full hour. Unbroken stare.

This woman so would have destroyed me in the staring game. 
At first, stares are uncomfortable. Let me tell you that this uncomfortability does not subside after a certain amount of time. In America, when the person who is being stared back responds with a glance, that glance usually deters the staree from staring again. Not in Turkey.

Even my glances did not break that stare. It is a stare that is hard to explain however. I don't think it is state that is jealous of the fact that I have the freedom to show my hair, ankles, and individual style. It is a stare that questions my very existence for not abiding by the cultural norms. This stare is much more uncomfortable than a 'you look weird' stare.

I have felt this for every minute I have been in the public eye in Turkey. Every traveler feels like an out of place foreigner to a certain extent because they are not a part of the local community or culture and never can be no how hard they try. I have felt even more out of place than the normal foreigner. I am not oblivious enough to be the older lady from America who wears her flag fanny pack and gets away with it because she is THAT crazy American. I am one who respects and envies local culture and tradition but cannot truly fit into this foreign culture as a woman.

Luckily, this seven hour bus ride to Hatay, I am in the backrow, making my presence less noticeable (besides when I had to walk to the back of the bus...).
My brother has had an easy time in Turkey overall. If he needs directions or help, he can walk up straight to a middle aged man and chat for many minutes- making instant connections and friends. If I had been living in Turkey for a year, I cannot walk up to men (or make eye contact even) to ask for help. The women surely can help but rarely talk, especially to foreigners.

I am not necessarily a feminist but this culture makes me feel like I am. In America, there is complete freedom. I am beginning to understand our founding words and constitution more and more with every trip. 

Overall, do you like attention? If so, come to Turkey. You'll receive plenty of it and more than you even want. Opposite of my personality, I just want to slip under the radar and hope no one notices me. 

Until that time (a week away), I will be stared at. For hours upon hours. On planes, buses, and trams, in stores and restaurants, at mosques and historic sites. 

And just for emphasis, let me say the word one more time:

STARE.