Greatest Challenge for Turks Living in the U.S.

Snow-white sand starts right at the edge of the palm trees of the hotel where I am staying. The sun is shining like a big bronze tray in the sky. I lay my towel on the sand and place my newspapers by my side. After taking a quick glance around, I lie on my towel and close my eyes, planning to relax and take a dip in the ocean today. I am living a long-awaited dream.

My hotel is right on the beach in Miami, the infamous city in Florida. I feel blessed. Finally, I made it to this lively city I know from many Hollywood movies and colorful American magazines, and will be staying for three weeks. Following my promotion as the chief of staff at the central office of Hurriyet in New York, I had an opportunity to visit Miami. I am here to report on the Miss Universe competition, for which many young girls from over 70 countries will fly in.

It is getting too hot, so I want to move to the shade, near the palm tree with large leaves. I move my papers and towel to the shade as well and take another look around. It feels a little weird this time. The beach looks endless, in every direction.

There are many buildings along the beach drive, but it is almost impossible to see people at the windows or in the balconies. Tanned girls in bikinis and the surfers I was expecting to see almost don’t exist. Sailboats look still. The Atlantic Ocean expands endlessly. Little black dots move slowly on the horizon. They must be fuel tankers. That is all I see. I feel like a small dot in an endless picture.

Despite all the glorious buildings and beautiful beaches, I can hardly see people on the streets. I found out later that this is just how Florida is. It wouldn’t be wrong to say that I never met the people who lived across the lake from the place I frequently visited in Palm Beach. I felt like the Miami-love in me disappeared after I returned to New York.

The picture I am trying to describe here depicts the loneliness of most people living here, especially for Turkish people. Many Turkish people I have met during my trips across the country, from Florida to California, complained that loneliness had undesired effects on their health. “We can’t find anyone to have a sincere chat. In Turkey, we would call up our relatives, meet up with friends or spontaneously drop by our neighbors to talk about virtually anything. Here, we have to pay for the psychiatrist to listen to us.” What about their American friends?

A Turkish lady-friend of mine shared her feelings with me at the Dallas Hilton, where we had dinner. “I have very few American friends other than my husband’s family. Most Turkish people living in the U.S. are like me. When I miss Turkey, we come here, to reminisce about our days at the Istanbul Hilton. I have a constant feeling of loneliness.”

I am not aware of any research or study on this, but my conversations with Turkish people clearly indicate that what they most suffer from in the U.S. is loneliness.

I was surprised to see that many Turkish doctors I met in the U.S. were psychiatrists, despite the minimal number of psychiatrists in Turkey. My doctor friends explained: “There are many people suffering from stress, depression and mental disorders in the U.S. The root cause is loneliness. People from all lines of business see a psychiatrist regularly. Psychiatrists are needed everywhere. We all went back to school to become psychiatrists.”

Americans suffer from loneliness even in their own country. At least Turks don’t have that problem.