What is Needed Most for Adequate Spiritual Care is ...

Caring for One’s Own Trauma is the Hardest

An inclusive interview with Zandile Nhlengetwa from Durban, South Africa. Zandile and I met on Whidbey Island, Washington (out of all places!) thanks to an international gathering of women peacemakers and writers, that is organized and sponsored by the Institute of Peace and Justice (IPJ) of University of San Diego. It took place in October 2017 at Hedgebrook Women's Writers' Residency, an idyllic place where I could only dream of traveling:) I was one of the six women who received this invitation for a memorable stay in the heart of nature, the most delicious food, and "radical hospitality" that the Hedgebrook is proud of offering to its guests.

Zandile conducts trauma-healing workshops for survivors of violence as a spiritual caregiver (Seventh-day Adventist). Frequent traveling where criminal violence is still prevalent in the post-conflict areas is part of her “normal” life. In fact, when I communicated, she texted me back: “I’m on the road traveling to another city that is 700 km away for a community meeting.” Her work is not only spiritual or individual-focused, it incorporates income-generating programs too. “When you alleviate the effects of poverty, people begin to spare more time to church activities,” she says, which wouldn’t be necessarily true in the U.S./ my context, but I respect and trust her observations. Below are some of my questions and her responses:

What do you think is needed for adequate pastoral care on trauma survivors in general?

Well, I cannot talk about ‘in general’ because I was born and raised in South Africa, I don’t know any other context. I only went abroad once before I met you in Hedgebrook last year. The U.S. is a different world from South Africa. We can’t always know what is ‘adequate’ but as a black Christian woman in her sixties [born in 1955] who lost two members of her core family due to violence, I know what my people go through in my community so I practice my work accordingly.  

What are some of your personal strengths as a spiritual caregiver (SC) in your community when it comes to helping trauma survivors?

I lost my husband and my son in violent crimes. 10 years after my marriage and having two children, my husband was killed in 1989. Our house was burned down in 1994. I lost my son in a hijacking incident in 2004 while I was driving the car myself and he was sitting next to me. I’m telling you these so that you can have an idea about the traumas that I experienced. I embrace them as my personal strengths, especially when I work on practicing forgiveness. I lost all my property and two precious men of my life but I was able to forgive and continue with life and take care of others. 

How can you use or activate these strengths in your current community?  Can you give a few examples?

I think so. I live in a poor and rural area. It is more common than not to have single mother households where young men are easy to get involved in crime of all kinds. I talk to the mothers like myself who are afraid that their daughters would end up pregnant and sons drug-addicts or alcoholics. However, there is always a Bible passage to cite which gives hope and fortresses morality. Another strength is that I announced that making use of second-hand goods is not shameful because like the members of my faith community, I am also struggling to maintain myself and my family. You can say there is not a hierarchy between my family and the others I reach out spiritually. 

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Zandile told me that as a Seventh-day Adventist she learned early to refuse canned food or meat. Her father was educated by American missionaries and worked as a clerk for the government. Many times, Zandile heard her father’s questions, “We are all born to love and support. No one is born to be violent. What is it in our community that resists this?” 

“My blood boiled when I saw strangers’ attacking my father as a child,” Zandile explains about her early role model of lived Christianity:

With serene impassivity, he always reminded us of what Jesus taught during the Sermon on the Mount: “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other.” He said patience is the key and added: “We were all, blacks and whites alike, victims of the same system. Lasting peace would only come through Jesus.” Growing up with him helped me a lot on how I treat people with trauma. 

As a college student, Zandile was dedicated first and foremost to her religion. As the struggle against apartheid grew, she adopted her parents’ religious defense. As a Christian she could not support violent resistance. This stance is still with her today and is leading her the path when she preaches or offers advice to her faith members (Seventh-day Adventists).

Do you think a spiritual caregiver who herself/himself is a survivor is better equipped with healing community members? Why/not?

Yes, I think so. But each trauma survivor is different, dealing with his own demons. I imagine myself more equipped when I am counseling a mother who lost her young son like I did, but I am also responsible for attending to the feelings of an incest survivor, something I don’t know about. 

What are your local and/or universal resources (books, texts, people/mentors, documentaries etc.) about spiritual care in your religious context?

Jesus is the prince of peace. I have accepted him as my personal savior, yes, I accept the prince of peace when I talk about peace issues in my community. I become more powerful because I am driven by the prince who empowers me with skills and with intelligence in dealing with all issues, with different roles that I need to play. Jesus is a spiritual foundation. 

What were the most challenging issues that you handled as a spiritual caregiver? If the challenge already belongs to your past, how did you deal with it/them? 

The most challenging… I should say the longest and loneliest period of my life was after my son got killed with a gun by another youth around his age. The tension and the extent of anger that I had carried since my husband’s death got much worse after losing my son. I had to be my own caregiver because I was terrified to face my emotions. I needed to relinquish poisonous pain by putting my unquestioning trust in the Lord. Only with prayer and spiritual dedication, I could get up and get out of the house. I committed myself to a journey of healing and reconciliation, which included visiting the perpetrator in prison and his mother in her village home. She was not nice with me but I visited her many times until we began talking and sharing the food I brought her and her neighbors. During that time, I also dealt with a different fear, which was the fear of  losing credibility within my faith community. I was aware that people kindly left me alone after the death of my son but not a single day passed by without feeling selfish and responsible for the members of my small town community. 

Do non-religious trauma survivors ever consult you (if yes, under which circumstances, or pressures -if any?) How does the recipient’s spirituality affect your practices if it does?

Not that I am intentionally made aware of. South Africa is a very strong Christian country. Liberation songs were all Christian songs. It is part of our culture as much as trauma is part of our culture.

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Zandile always preached forgiveness and reconciliation but she nurtured anger within herself. She was unpacking her communities’ long-sustaining suffering, yet sealed her own pain securely. Any caregiver’s nightmare was gradually embodied in her when one day, Zandile realized “she loathed the person she had become”. She felt that she was a fraud. She was neither a peacebuilder nor a Christian caregiver. The words of Paul kept resonating in Zandile: “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal” (Corinthians 13:1). I can only imagine the excruciating confusion that Zandile must have gone through as she despised herself for her own hypocrisy. 

My conclusion from the conversation is that what is needed most for adequate spiritual care is honesty and courage, especially in dealing with one’s own fears and traumas before taking care of other community members. 

Thank you, Zandile! I am thrilled to have you in my life and that you have called me "your favorite professor":)) Guess what? You're one of my favorite peacemakers and role models as a believer.

The 4th International Week of Sarajevo University

(With special thanks to Muamer Hirkić, MA (the Coordinator at the Office for International Cooperation, University of Sarajevo) for keeping us the participants in the loop and responding to all our questions promptly.)

Yesterday, I wanted to check the room where I'd teaching and when I arrived in there 30 min.before I was supposed to begin, the door was locked and there was no sign posted that might (optimistically) lead others to my way. However, miraculously, someone showed up and upon learning that I was the speaker, he began helping me as he has been coming to Sarajevo for the past 20 years, and knows his way around the mazes of the state building (again, no English signs). I will always remember his kindness and his taking out a piece of Mozartkugeln chocolate from his briefcase, which he promised me that there would be more if I come to his lecture the next day:) He took me to the dean's office where an assistant actually located the key so that I was able to enter the room, checking out the technical stuff, the internet, projector etc.

His name is Franz Kok (Uni.of Salzburg, "the Regional Cooperation Capacities at Western Balkans: Stability of Democracy in a Changing World") and I think we all need people like him in the places like Sarajevo University corridors where not many people know what's going on:) Furthermore, you should have seen my face when a full class filled the classroom with their professor named Abdel Alibegović who didn't explain what was going on either but as a seasoned presented, I could tell that I was taking the time and place of a regular class hour, after which the students will continue with the professors. It was quite active, and with the attendance of my new young and French friend Jeanne (Jan was the pronunciation that I caught), I could rely on some honest feedback. The title of my presentation was "What Environmental Studies Lack: Politics of Beyond-human Approaches" and clearly I hid the element of religion from the title while the main body of my talk was around the integration of religion or spirituality in the dialogue in the Social Sciences. 

Another volunteer attendee was Zuzana Bartova from Czechia who is a scholar in Religious Studies from the University of Strasbourg (PhD thesis on Buddhist religiosity of French and Czech converts in consumer culture:) WOW! How this form of Buddhism conformed to consumerism and lifestyle as a model of consumer culture with its emphasis on identity construction. 

No, I don't believe in coincidences. Her topic sounds fascinating, and I think she should consider coming to California, and I should read more about Europe and their image-making-in-progress via consumption of course (capitalism is here to live just like religions).

Yesterday, I made a comment on the smart phones before I began my talk, and gently expressed students about my perception of their engagements in their phones. This was indeed very annoying in the previous sessions so I was getting very annoyed by it and shared it with this rebellious-looking French (Erasmus) student because she was not into her phone. I am glad she came to my talk and I will invite her to CA or UmAy homespace. 

There is so much to say about the situationship(!) of the new generation if I may take it out of the context a little bit and put in larger commitment issues. Tragicomical it may seem to us (because being young is mostly about already being confused, no?) why complicate it more with situationship (in education?):)

Time to pause and get going. My education about the Balkans are in action!

Ivo Markovic, Travnik, Guca Gora: A Memorable Sunday in BiH

I am very grateful because I was able to return to Sarajevo as I intended to many months ago. The capital welcomed well and smoke-free, which was the best possible news for this poor one with high sensitivity. 

I am very grateful to be able to meet Ayse, my young friend whom I met by chance and whose expressions of gratitude and respect is very rare nowadays. I am beyond myself to sign up for the experienced mountain guide's hiking tour (Fikret Kahrovic) and spend hours walking and admiring the grandiose and the beauty of the Bosnian Mountains (May 3rd) and the next day, the peace-maker, St Franciscan priest Brother Ivo took us (three meleks!) on a long ride outside of Sarajevo. We realized a dream when he first mentioned it to me on the night of the annual Christmas concert at the Catholic Seminary of Sarajevo (2023). It was a lovely night where I watched dozens of believers and their children watch the Nativity Scene being enacted, took photos on a cold Sarajevo evening. I remember looking at the framed posters on the walls of the seminary where the monasteries are depicted and one of them showed the photo of Guca Gora where Fr.Ivo served three years. It was closer to the village where he was born and raised.  

Our first stop was Travnik, the former capital of Ottoman-reigned Bosnia. We had coffee at the Cafe which is mentioned in Ivo Andric's Bosnian Trilogy. One needs to make a real effort to imagine what it was like back in the day while sitting under the big red Coca Cola umbrellas and exposed to other modern day advertisement. Nevertheless, it was a big happy reunion to meet Ivo Markovic, the namesake of the Nobel Literature Prize Winner in 1961. Because it was a Sunday, and the new law imposed that stores will be closed (including the shopping malls), I sat in Ivo's car empty-handed, my burek plans for a picnic failed while Ayse and Fatma's homemade cake's aroma was promising and delicious. However, Ivo already knew where to get the best burek near Ivo Andric's home (a museum today) so we left the town fully prepared for our lunch at his home. 

Ivo is one of those people who keep checking if you're hungry, if you feel like eating or drinking something on regular intervals, even if he knows that the answer would consist of another "no, thanks" again:) His generosity is an essential part of his being and comes naturally, making me smile each time.

You need to try real hard in order to buy or pay for anything and even if you can, Ivo will make a comment on it, expressing disapproval. Our next stop was Guca Gora monastery where we had some fruit and he had his first beer:) We met one his former students and given a tour by Ivo himself, which even included live music thanks to the organ in the church. Ayse and Fatma were beyond themselves and took all the possible photos and live-music video (because of their generation!):) The monastery was spotless and very quiet. There were only three people living there. They offer rooms to the hikers or any travelers who have interest in staying at a real monastery in the area instead of camping. 

Finally, we arrived in Ivo's home and was greeted by his loyal friend, Shargo. He is a rough-looking dog on the larger side, can be scary and even bite, warns Ivo. He ties him just in case. The village is deserted and its quietness poses a contrast to the newborn, screaming green tones and flowers of the Spring! It can become a wonderful retreat place, I can imagine it easily at this time of the year. It's the war, the economy, and who knows what else but the village is empty and the houses are used only for family reunions once a year or every two years etc. Sad? I don't know. It's what it is. Ivo tells me that I am always welcome to the house if I want to finish a book or just escape the city life. Now, I have another home away from "home" which is a complete unknown... I'm like rolling stone.

My Jogjakarta Field-trip and Sallie Bingham:)

A dear one (Sevilya) asked me recently: "You no longer write blog entries, I used to love reading them, it was a way to get inside your life, your travels and feelings." In her usual gentle style of communication, she left it there, without adding "I wish you wrote!":)

I have been having writing issues. I've been having privacy concerns (not that I've things to hide but I guess I am at the opposite end of where social media personas live). I simply intend to keep it quiet and modest, sharing things only with a few selected friends, not polluting the social media or invade screen time.

The reason why I am typing this is the fact that I actually found an essay that I submitted to USD newsletter after they invited me to their Sarajevo Conference in 2015. To my shock, 10 years passed and I created the opportunity to return to Sarajevo last year, rented an airbnb, met wonderful people, visited places etc. I wanted to share this essay with a potential traveler and realized that it is no longer on the official site but only here on this blog. It was a relief and push for me to return to my 'digital archives' or diaries. 

Secondly, I'm in a new country, using up the last chunk of the research fund that I received from Sallie Bingham. More and more, I confess to myself whether it is time to move on to another chapter in life. My love for reading, observing, and writing will probably never leave me but it might be time to pause.  It is the difficulty of capturing the essence of my own feelings as well as the realistic and vivid impressions of the place or the people (Indonesia). In any case, I have to push myself really hard to write.

Sallie Bingham's discipline in writing regularly at the age of 85 is admirable to say the least. I bet it is also among the secrets to her health and energy. A reason to live, perhaps. I thought I was like that too. But I no longer feel so. The platforms have changed dramatically when we talk about the books, the readership, the AI and even the youtube made ME lazier, to begin with. Who am I to criticize others, the younger ones, the students who use ChatGpt and ask for the summary of everything? 

I am grateful that Bumi Langit permaculture was recommended to me by Iqbal Barkat and Koki, our guests from Sydney last summer. I am also grateful to my persistent and long-term planner-self, a dreamer who intended to spend the March of 2025 here months ago. Iskandar Waworuntu (1954) is the founder and I had the most distinguished time with him over several dinners and celebrated his birthday on March 01st with his family and friends, I just happened to be there. I respect and admire people with a mission, people with a lot of life experiences, critical mind, and YET they know exactly where they are heading to and why (in terms of the lifestyle). Pak Iskandar is one of them and Sallie Bingham is another.  They are both religious-spiritual people too, and I don't think that it is a coincidence.

Anis and I in Jogja, Eid (April 2025)

When I find myself in times of trouble... who whispers the words of wisdom?

Almost a full year passed since my last blog entry. Here is the challenge I'd like to pose myself: Capture the year if you can in a less than 1.000 words! What is the highlight(s) up until now? How do you set up a new reality? (remember the time when you actually began publishing about 'reality'? It was in 1996-97, early but a good quality contribution with Foucault, Baudrillard, Umberto Eco...)

Sarajevo my love...

Almas Mulalić, Melina, Valida, Zilka, Amra Pandzo... Strong women of Sarajevo who welcomed me.

And Friar Ivo Markovic, who picked me from the airport and brought me to the heart of town where he delivered a plenary talk in the UN World Interfaith Harmony Week. Then, we went to a dinner on a hilltop where we enjoyed the city in lights. I'll always remember this very short but must visit to the capital where I had to empty my flat and move to Istanbul to care for my parents. 

Istanbul (cat-sitting in Ortakoy and Cihangir) The beauty of Yildiz Park, my healing begins.

Touring Istanbul in search of a good facility for my mom (and dad too as he cannot stay alone at home)

Hale, Başar, Elif... Several of our neighbors and relatives who called and offered us help. My mom's sister,

She has never given up her sister no matter what. She became the wizard of public transportation in Istanbul at the age of 80.

Meeting Ayse Turk from IUS in front of the City Hall of Sarajevo and how close we have become.

Northern Cyprus: Zehra, Vacide, Hanife. Years later, an emotional reunion. 

Cappadocia: I made it to the EcoHumanities Conference (May 20-22) upon invitation. Sinan Akilli, thank you. 

Estonia: The beauty of horses and green fields, love of nature pulsing everywhere, white nights. Equine-assisted therapy. 

Turkish Author, Composer, and Singer Zulfu Livaneli is also a great columnist_August_25th Essay for Oksijen Newspaper

 Sultan Abdülhamid was a Fan of Opera

I don't believe that the majority of people considered conservative in Turkey are concerned with preserving the old culture. They don't defend Itri's music, Sinan's architecture, or Baki's poetry, nor do they enjoy this aesthetic level. They have grown up within a distorted understanding of modernization that emerged as a result of an unplanned migration of at least fifty million people to the cities. They have embraced not the songs of Şevki Bey or the folk songs of Karacaoğlan, but rather arabesque music; not Mimar Kemalettin, but unauthorized buildings with iron sprouts on top and versifications with no literary value whatsoever. Looking at the matter from this perspective, we must say that we are the true conservatives in the realm of culture. Those who claim to be conservatives are in a misguided interpretation. This same incorrect interpretation also applies to the exaggerated image of Sultan Abdülhamid II that they have been promoting in recent years, which has no connection whatsoever to the image of Abdülhamid who would hang and execute people, raid places, and slap envoys on TRT screens.

Engaged in a passionate love affair with a Belgian girl named Flora Cordier, who played the piano, brought her clothes from Paris, and shared a stormy romance, spoke French albeit not as fluently as his brother Murad, drank rum instead of raki, and projected a Westernized appearance with his lifestyle, the Sultan's love for opera is well known, and it's already known that he even had an opera performed in his palace. When he was a 24-year-old prince, he accompanied his uncle Abdulaziz on a European journey, and after seeing Paris and London, he expressed his sadness over the widening gap between us and the West. He sent money to Pasteur for his newly established laboratory, established the Bakteriyolojihane-i Şahane center in Istanbul with the help of the French during the epidemic, attempted to familiarize the people with Western clocks by erecting clock towers in various cities, was a fan of Sherlock Holmes, and enjoyed listening to Johann Strauss's composition dedicated to his birthday.

Despite his caliphate policy used against major powers aiming to dismantle the Ottoman Empire, in his private life, he embraced a European style like his father, his uncle who composed waltzes, and his brother. He imported four Steinway pianos from Paris for his children. In short, he was a sultan who maintained an authoritarian regime suppressing opposition while also admiring the European lifestyle. Adding to all this, it's worth mentioning that he ordered Colt pistols in Native American attire through American ambassador Terrel, just to make the picture even clearer. Since he ordered them from America, he must have tried them at least once or twice.

He was someone who both said "ancestors" every day and viewed opera and ballet as decadence. With the desire that those who view his life this way should also read the relevant section from the book "On the Back of the Tiger," I would like to share it with you.

Italian Opera Singers at the Palace

In that beautiful palace, which had now become a dream, the Sultan, who would have novels read to him behind a screen placed at the foot of his bed every night, would sometimes have sleepless nights and would clap his hands, saying only "opera." This single word would signal that the Italian artists, both men and women, who had been bestowed titles like pasha, major, colonel, had only half an hour to prepare and get on stage. At the head of the palace theater was Arturo Stravolo, who was a mimic master from Naples, who had migrated to Istanbul with his father, mother, actress wife, brothers, uncles, aunts, and had entered the service of the Sultan.

Since the Sultan didn't want repetitions of the same plays, one of Stravolo's duties was to watch new plays in Europe and stage them in the palace. All the actors were attached to a military unit and had to wear the uniform corresponding to their ranks. Angelo was a lieutenant, violinist Luigi was a captain, baritone Gaetano was a colonel, and highly skilled tenor Nicola wore the uniform of a sergeant. Orchestra conductor Aranda Pasha had to start performing the requested piece of music within half an hour of receiving the "Masked Ball" order in the middle of the night. Some days, the Sultan would watch the plays with his family and guests, but at night, he would sit alone in his box. If there was a part in the play that he didn't understand or didn't like, he would signal with his hand to stop everyone. In order for the performance to continue, every detail had to be explained to his majesty.

Moreover, since the Sultan didn't like tragic endings, the conclusions of every opera, from La Traviata to Il Trovatore, would be altered to create happy endings. For example, at the end of La Traviata, Violetta wouldn't die but would dance happily.

The most beloved actor for the Sultan to watch was Arturo's beautiful wife, Cecilia. He wanted to see her in the lead role in every play, but due to biological reasons, this was often not possible. Therefore, the troupe had to resort to disguises, using wigs and makeup to make another actress resemble Cecilia, and dimming the lights. Cecilia frequently became pregnant, and since her growing belly didn't suit the young girl roles she played, she wouldn't perform until after giving birth. Nevertheless, all this effort was worth it in the end. The Italian actors were living luxuriously on high salaries, and the troupe's director, Arturo, was rewarded with privileges such as being the owner of the first car in Istanbul. As the guardian of Islam in Anatolia, the caliph was an admirer of European culture. He would say that Turkish music was only drum and zurna, and that although it was called "alaturka," this music had its origins in Persia and Greece. He was a great lover of opera. However, due to his contradictory nature, he would sometimes become bored in the middle of a performance. Stravolo, realizing that the Sultan was bored, would immediately interrupt the play and bring out various performers such as jugglers, magicians, acrobats to entertain him.

https://gazeteoksijen.com/yazarlar/zulfu-livaneli/abdulhamid-bir-opera-hayraniydi-187072

RHCP Concert Attendees in Three Countries, Serendipity and Generosity

Mad Cool Festival (July 6-8) takes place in Madrid, an alternative music festival for the ones who take live concerts seriously. My brother and his lifelong friends from Turkey are among them. Exactly a week ago, I received a text from my brother with a name and phone number along with fun and funny photos from the concert area. The phone belonged to the wonderful Leslie, a SF-based yoga instructor who invited me for her lesson in San Francisco as a gesture and kindness in return as she was deeply touched by the space-sharing system that my brother and his friends created in the front rows. I took the invitation as I thought it was such a cool thing to offer and it has been ages since my in-person yoga class. In fact, it has been exactly 9 years since my first free yoga class in the cool gray summer of San Francisco.  Aylin accompanied me during and after the class, which was a delight as always. She is funny, transparent and very unique in her own ways. One of the reliable adopted SF family members, a sister with a fire sign. On the way to my temporary home, I felt very relieved and content in a way that I missed a lot (I miss that feeling!) watching the world through pink lenses. Matcha latte, blue matcha, and a smelly and expensive grilled cheese sandwich at Epicurean Trader on Union St. (Cow Hollow)

The yoga class began with Leslie's anecdote on space-sharing and how she gets to meet the two siblings in the same week across the world (Madrid and SF!) She had given me a big hug, thanks, and asked for consent to share the anecdote before that. The yoga studio is called Yoga Flow &  her class took place in the Union St. branch, a spacious one with light colors and large ceiling windows, which I adore in any building. I was soaking with sweat and had to commute two hours from Berkeley (round trip) and spent around 40$ for the occasion but it was worth it. I'm in transition (still) and I can't even diagnose myself whether I'm now an introvert or people's person, or a small-town hippie type who is high sensitive and cannot deal with crowds. 

It turned out that Aylin too attended RHCP concert in LA in the early nineties.  I saw them in Istanbul (September 2012) with my cousin, and Leslie a week ago in Madrid. What brought three of us yesterday was more than serendipity or the love of music: It was the willingness to invest in the time and the good intention towards the Other. This requires a newly defined generosity and sharing that goes beyond money-sharing or charity. It began with my brother's space-sharing which Leslie connected to self-confidence of the space-sharer, and continued with meeting a new person, a new yoga studio, and making an old friend happy! 

AylinCan, happy 9th Anniversary of a -inshallah- much Longer Friendship/Sisterhood!