Falling apart

On the contrary, if you are one of those people who live in disdain of politics but prefer an existence dominated by beauty, it might be the best time to escape to an isolated house on some small island where the nearest neighbor would be miles away. Thus, you would be away from the honking horns of the election buses, the gaudy slogans, hand brochures in red and white, the billboards of mustached men with arms around each other, with slogans such as "Today Ankara, tomorrow Turkey."Â

If you have an office in the lively street of Tunalı Hilmi, your phone conversations are often interrupted by the high-volume calls claiming your vote Ğ on the grounds of consistent service by the Justice and Development Party, or for "the change" proposed by Murat Karayalçın (and there, one tends to think of the dynamic Ankara candidate rather than the static party) or for "willingness to serve rather than clash" by the Nationalist Movement Party. This columnist would have loved to get a glimpse of the liberal Çankaya candidate of the conservative Saadet Partisi, but it seems that her path did not go through Tunali.

’Non-green’ weeks over
Whatever the outcome of the local elections, it would, at least, put an end to the "non-green" three weeks we have passed through, where our life seemed to be polluted by bad slogans, paper and balloons on the pavements and conflicting analyses on just which party would win where. (One of the most interesting analyses of the elections was carried out by Professor Fuat Keyman and Co., published in Radikal, which described the elections as "local elections that ignored any local aspect but were conducted as if they were national elections.")

But two things in the capital caught the eye of Erospolis this week, although there was nothing erotic about either.

First is the 3rd Book Fair of Ankara, which brings together many of the Turkish publishers, took place at the Atatürk Cultural Center, a building which was opened to the public in 1987, after seven years of construction by architects Coşkun and Filiz Erkan. It has been left to its own faith since then, with the hope that it would fall apart and something else would be done on the rather valuable territory around it.

From its broken marble floors to spotted carpets, this monstrosity of wood and marble is unheated, moldy and uncared for. Home to the Ankara conservatory, singers fight the cold by voice exercises and speakers who are asked to make speeches on the fringes of the book fair keep their coats on. Asked whether it would be possible to heat the hall before one conference, a desperate administrator replied: "No. If there is a large audience, they can warm the hall with their breath."

Books and food
The book fair itself is an interesting affair: Some publishers, such as Ankara-based prestige publisher İmge, will not attend it. While one notes the loss, it is rather difficult to blame the publisher (and no doubt many others) for not participating in a book fair that also hosts a "homemade food bazaar." Books, after a seven-day bazaar, start smelling like homemade gözleme or Turkish köfte.

The second urban story in the capital is, of course, theft from the Ankara Arts and Sculpture Museum. The museum, a small jewel that overlooks the opera in Ulus, was reopened last year to offer Ankara residents a lovely collection of late Ottoman and Republican paintings. It is certainly a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon although there is painfully little information about the paintings.

Evil tongues have been saying that some of the daring pieces, such as nudes, were not taken out for the public to see, and that there are even greater treasures in the museum’s attic. A group of thieves certainly thought so, as they tried stealing two of the paintings by Osman Hamdi, who painted "The Tortoise Trainer." His equally powerful masterpiece, "The Weapons Merchant" is on display at the Ankara Art Museum.

The punch line is that one of the thieves was the museum guard himself, who already had a record of theft from an Istanbul museum. Instead of being fired, he was transferred to Ankara.

Now, that is what we call a capital joke!