I know the earthquake feeling. Actually as long as it’s harmless, I have to admit I find it very interesting. The feeling of fright and excitement is real, it makes one feel more alive, and you are reminded you should respect and admire natures kingdom even if you’re in the middle of a big city. In 1999 we had a terrible earthquake here, unfortunately thousands of people died, but we didn’t learn about the scale of the tragedy until the next day, and that night was very interesting. Together with millions of people we slept outside as the aftershocks continued. Before each tremour the entire nature (birds, dogs, cats) gave different signs that a new one was coming. Strangely even birds that flew started screaming a second before it shook again. I remember it was four o’clock in the morning, and we lived by the seashore, and a few minutes after the quake thousands of people, woken up by the sound, had silently started walking towards the shore where there’s a big park. Everyone was dressed in pijamas, etc, and entire families walked towards the park. Children had their pets with them, dads their radios, moms blankets and pillows and no one spoke. But what was more interesting was to experience a night when millions of people had nothing but each other to hold on to. Suddenly everything that was previously of value made no sense,houses which were normally people’s "castle"s, became the enemies. As morning came and we could see the smoke from the opposite shore, the sky was filled with emergency and military helicopters flying towards that district and then we learned how bad it was. Later we all joined the rescue work (I was doing translations for the rescue teams that had arrived from Norway), but what I learned that night was that such a shocking event is told in the news with the death numbers and tragedies. But there is so much more that changes during those few seconds. Poor districts with solid grounds, suddenly becomes the hope of the rich, you start talking to your neighbour that you had a fight with the night before. You share all your feelings, your fright, your anger, your admiration for life. Because you have something very in common with him. You both survived.
There is much to be told but I’ll stop here. Voltaire has a very interesting essay on an earthquake he witnessed, and Howard Fast tells in The Immigrants about the San Fransisco earthquake. Somehow earthquakes attracts many authors, and as long as it doesn’t turn out to be a tragedy, I think one should try to feel, and maybe even enjoy it.
Rochefore,
I admire what you did. I traveled to the east, but with bus, which I’m sure is not half as interesting as cyling through the area. I must say it sounds adventurous considering all the mountains, the half desert landscapes. However I remember the underground cities too. We went to a small village, and there were no one there. Then we found a small entrance with stairs that led down somewhere. There we found another village under the ground.
Its strange, because even if you’re turkish, you’re a foreigner there. Most of the population is Kurdish and its difficult to communicate with them. Only the children speaks Turkish and they learn it in school. I can understand what Kemal means to you.
About comparing Pamuk and Kemal. When you live here, there comes a time when you have to make a choice actually. It’s the question “Who are you? Which Turkey do you belong to?” You cannot be Anatolian and Istanbulia at the same time. East of Ankara, a new country begins. While you can see traces of Western lifestyle there, it belongs to the east. Here, on the other hand, you see traces of Eastern lifestyle, but you belong to the west. This might be the main difference between the two authors. So you’re right in saying you cannot compare the two. They tell about entire different worlds. One is occupied with sufism, mysticism, the sultans, the art and the orient (Pamuk), and is taking his inspiration from writers such as Thomas Mann, Faulkner, etc., while the other is a folks writer, writing about legends, tales and the rural life of Anatolia. Pamuk is disliked by many here, since he’s writing as if he’s looking at Turkey from an ‘oriental’ point of view, that is, he writes as if he were a French traveler that came to Turkey and started writing about this place. Kemal, on the other side, belongs to these soils. (I remember that I read somewhere that Dostoevsky once said about Turgenyev, “One should buy him a telescope for his birthday, so he could have a better look at the Russian people.” Kemal may feel the same about Pamuk.) In Pamuk you read about Islamist women with headscarves that talks the way an enlightened French woman in Paris would talk. (Especially in Snow). But then, this is literature. And Pamuk, by no means claims to be a realist. Kemal comes from a small, Anatolian town, while Pamuk lives in a very Western district, comes from an old Istanbul and Ottoman ‘aristocrat’ family. Kemal is uneducated, while Pamuk finishes the most prestigious Turkish schools. Pamuk can only symphatizing with the Kurds and their fight for more rights, while Kemal is himself a kurd. Pamuk learns literature through the above mentioned names, while Kemal learns it through the “a??k” school… that is from a master of story telling and poetry.
Having noticed this “click” I must say you have keen ears. When I tell someone about this click, they always say they haven’t noticed it.
Sorry this post became so long, I did not have time to write it shorter. 
And about T. E. Lawrence… Your observation about his nihilism is very interesting. It’s also to see consequences of nihilism in these parts of the world. Somehow nihilism seems to have traveled no further than Russia. Even there, it’s different from the ‘western’ concept. T. E. Lawrence is very little known here. A book about him would be interesting… (My publisher blood is running high again)
