Where is the place in which we feel that "we are at home", or "the place is ours"? Is it the one in which we have our loved ones or is it the one in which we are free? We're the ones who left their hearts in Turkey with their loved ones, but also possess the necessity of being in "the West" to have a future. We're the ones who have no belief to sacrifice their lives for the sake of it, as opposed to the generation of Altan's*. We're the ones who are aware of the value of one's own life. I don't know what has changed; maybe the country, maybe the generation, or understanding of life. But I know that we couldn't succeed either to stay or leave. Now in my neighbourhood in Milan I find myself constantly thinking about my dear Archipelagos, as Paschalis Terzis asks:
"Tell me which ones is the homeland
The hope of passionate love, the light in your eyes
"Tell me which ones is the homeland
The hope of passionate love, the light in your eyes
Tell me how long it will last
The setting of sun, the Archipelagos"
The setting of sun, the Archipelagos"
*Ahmet Altan is a Turkish writer and journalist who was born in 1950
