Last week we told you about how the Kalkander Association provides support to local students with their education.

This week we want to tell you about how they are helping some of the less well off people in the area.

Kalkan Turkish Local News recently accompanied the Kalkander Association on a visit they made to identify where they can target their support.  Here is our report.

It's approaching lunchtime on Saturday 27th February 2010, and I meet with the members of the Kalkander Association, Serdar and Hüseyin, who will be my guides on today's journey.  Also with us are their wives, Şemsa and Ayşe.

Our first stop is at the Kalkan Rehabilitation Centre (Özel Kalkan Özel Eğitim Rehabilitasyon Merkezi).  KTLN reported on the fantastic work of this school in May 2009.  You can read that article here.  Kalkan Rehabilitation Centre report

Briefly, the school looks after local people who suffer from various kinds of mental impairment, or learning difficulties.  It's challenging work, but immensely rewarding.

But our aim today is not to visit the school.  We are going to travel back to the homes of the children, as their day of learning ends, to see what their home lives are like.  I join the children in the minibus.

A journey by road
As we head off towards Akbel, and beyond towards Üzümlü, through the stone-cracked windscreen, the scenery is as impressive as ever, despite the grey clouds overhead. 

Across the valley, and beyond a mozaic of greenhouses, we can see Patara Beach and the Mediterranean Sea in the distance.  We sway to the left and right as the packed minibus weaves its way up and down the mountain roads; our driver skilfully avoiding most of the major potholes. 

For some children it is a long journey - perhaps up to an hour as we take several detours down gravel tracks to deliver the children to their door.  It's a journey they make twice a day - there and back, 5 days a week.  The school is closed on Sunday and Monday, and Saturday is a half day.

A journey 'off road'
We are heading in the general direction of Saklikent.  Just after Çavdır, we leave the main road, and continue our journey along a stony side road, leaving a cloud of dust in our wake.  The tree lined road twists and turns, and begins to narrow.  Surrounded now by trees, the road simply disappears, and all that is left is the muddy tracks, made by our minibus, on previous visits.

This is definitely 'off road'.  We are driving slowly through the woods, bouncing along the uneven ground, picking our way around tree roots and the occasional boulder.  There is no sign whatsoever of civilisation.  

The driver stops.  Are we lost?  Is the minibus stuck?  No - apparently, we have arrived.  This is where we drop off one of the children.  Where on earth is the house?

Hoş geldiniz
Everyone gets out of the minibus, and we scan 360 degrees for signs of life.  Looking uphill, through the trees, about 200 metres away, we can see people walking down the hill, coming towards us.  Behind them, in the distance, we can vaguely make out some kind of dwelling.

The welcome committee comprises a few children, and a lady in traditional dress, who turns out to be their grandmother.  "Hoş geldiniz", "Selam".  For a minute or two, we stand chatting, shaking hands and exchanging smiles, next to the minibus.  Meanwhile, Serdar and Hüseyin bring out a large cardboard box filled with supplies - flour, rice, sugar, biscuits, and some sweets for the children.  We make our way towards their home.

Overnight, it has been raining so the ground is damp, and a little muddy, and there is that earthy smell that you get following rainfall, mixed with the scent of pine.  We slowly make our way up the hill, and the outline of the family's accommodation becomes clearer.

A shelter for a home
It is a shelter, with a wooden frame, covered by large rugs and thick, blue plastic sheeting, held down by large stones, branches and lashed with bits of rope and plastic tubing.  It is about 5 metres long and 3 metres wide, with a door in one corner.

Just inside the door is a soba, which is used to heat water and to keep the place warm.  The floor is covered with assorted rugs.  At the far end, furthest away from the door, is a sleeping area. 

At the end closest to the door, there are bags full of various food supplies.

This living space is home for mother Fatma, father Veli, four children and their grandmother.

Some 5 metres away is a similar, but slightly smaller shelter.  At first I thought it was used to store wood, but as it is in fact an animal pen - home to 50 kids.  These goats are how the family makes a living.

Alongside the main shelter is an area where the family cooks and washes.  The fire is made on a simple metal frame, and there is no shortage of wood to burn.  Fresh water is provided by a heavy duty hosepipe.  The family has no electricity.  So no fridge/freezer, no satellite TV, no lights (except oil lamps), and no telephone - mobile or otherwise.

This place is where the family stays in the winter months.  They come down from their summer home in the mountains (yayla), where they have a similar shelter, because it gets too cold up there.

A hard life
What struck me was how cheerful the family was.  They were genuinely happy to see us, and the children were having a great time playing amongst the trees.  For many of us, this life would be unbearably hard, but for Fatma and Veli, and their family, this is their life.  And it will probably be the life for their children too.

The Kalkander Association would like to help this family.  The aim is not to transform or change their lives in any major way, but simply to make their living conditions a bit more comfortable.  To have three adults and four children living and sleeping in a room of 15 square metres, is not ideal.

If it is allowed, they would like to create a more robust and waterproof, temporary structure, with more living space.  They will need to seek permission from the local Muhtar to do this, especially as the family live in a wood, where building a permanent structure is not allowed.

Reflections on the day
In Turkey, I imagine there must be thousands of herdsmen and their families, living in similar conditions.  It is a way of life that most of us cannot empathise with, given our addiction to material things.

How do I feel about what I have seen?  Well, some of the family do have learning difficulties, and despite the wonderful efforts of the Kalkan Rehabilitation Centre, this means that their life choices will be fairly limited.  

I am incredibly impressed, and humbled by their resiliance and cheerfulness, in what I regard to be quite harsh living conditions.  In fact it makes me feel quite pathetic when I think about some of the trivial, day to day challenges that I have to overcome.

And it is important not to overlook the positives here.  We have to recognise that here we have a close, loving family, who support each other.  They are free from the stresses of modern day life, and by rearing and selling their livestock, they are to a large degree, self-sufficient.  They have a richness we will never have in being close to nature and having a high degree of freedom.  We should look at them not as victims, but as survivors, who are making the best of a tough life.

Also, I can't help wondering what they would make of us and our lives.  Less than an hour away is Kalkan, a place with an official population of just over 3,000 people, and six banks; fancy restaurants, boats, jet-skis and jewellery shops.  I doubt whether Fatma has seen a credit card, let alone owned one.

And how exactly would you explain to these people such 'important' things as the The X Factor, I'm a Celebrity, Twitter, iPhones, Dolce & Gabbana fashion accessories and bankers bonuses.   It makes you think about what is important in life, and it made me count my blessings.

A helping hand
Turkey is a country of contrasts: between mountain and coast, modern and traditional, major conurbation and remote village, secular and religious.  And in common with every other place on our planet, there is a contrast between those who have plenty and those who have little.  

You may say that for the Kalkander Association to help a handful of people like Fatma, Veli and their family, is a drop in the ocean.  But just because you can't help everyone, does not mean that you should not try to help someone.  

At Kalkan Turkish Local News, we applaud their work to make this family's life a bit more comfortable.  It's just one example of how the Kalkander Association makes a difference.  If you would like to help, you can contact them through their website www.kalkander.org or email them at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .