Field Notes No. 1: On Traveling
About ten days ago, I embarked on a journey that had been on my mind for years. As a descendant of the first generation of guest workers who came to Turkey from Germany, I wanted to retrace my parents' steps. The "Homeland Trail," called "Sila Yolu" in Turkish, was a route they took every summer in the 1970s and 80s. This route led them through Austria, the Balkan countries, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria, and finally across the major border crossing "Kapikule" near Edirne to Istanbul – a distance of approximately 2,250 kilometers.
Back then, the drive was a real challenge. The route mostly followed country roads, leading through small towns and areas where rest stops were few and far between. The gas stations that did exist were packed. Our cars, usually fully loaded with little space and far from comfortable, wouldn't even be worth considering for many people today. But it was precisely these memories of long car journeys that shaped me and ignited my love for road trips.
Longer car journeys have a meditative quality. They stimulate my thoughts and encourage me to stop and explore spontaneously. Staying in small guesthouses and hotels, meeting people, and observing local life are valuable experiences for me. However, this trip was intended to be more than just a road trip. It was also an opportunity to connect with my roots and reflect on what "origin" and "identity" mean to me today.
On this journey, I wanted to capture, both photographically and in words, what these concepts mean to me. Since childhood, car trips to Turkey have shaped me and sparked my interest in photography. These journeys ignited my passion for capturing places and people through the lens. Later, writing came into the picture.
I've now left Istanbul behind and have already reached kilometer 3,300 in southern Turkey. This journey is very significant for my photography. It allows me to look back and, at the same time, look ahead. I wonder how my photography will change, how I myself will change.
I also drew inspiration for this trip from Thomas Hoepker, the recently deceased photographer. His work, especially his documentaries and portraits, has always fascinated me. The Wanderlust book is a photographic travelogue like few others, and as both a photographer and a traveler, I feel the images within. Hoepker understood how to capture the essence of people and places and tell their stories without being "touristy" or otherwise intrusive. His pictures inspired me to look deeper and get closer, while simultaneously maintaining a certain distance from the events. His influence was meant to accompany me on this journey, and while I was traveling, the news of his death reached me.
This journey in my parents' footsteps is more than just a trip from A to B. It's a journey to my roots and their essence. My camera is my constant companion, meant to help me capture and reflect on these moments. But so far, I've barely pressed the shutter. Because I realize how important it is to me not to experience the moment through the viewfinder, but as it is—fleeting, for the memory in my mind. I'm curious to see where this journey will lead me.