On 27 December 2008 Curaçao hosted its second annual Global Nomad Salon. The event was organized by Janera in Landhuis Bloemhof and was made possible by Randolph van Eps, a partner at the law firm VanEps Kunneman Van Doorne, and the Fundashon Bon Intenshon of Greg Elias, owner of The United Trust Company.

During the Salon about thirty experts, all Curaçaoans residing either on the island or abroad, exchanged ideas about embracing the diversity of the island and how to combat its extremism in these uncertain times.

The constitutional structure of the Netherlands Antilles in the Dutch Kingdom will soon be amended, effectively ending the federation’s existence. Both the island territories of Curaçao and Saint Marten voted to become separate, independent countries within the Dutch Kingdom (status aparte). The remaining territories, Bonaire, Saint Eustatius, and Saba, will be given a new status (sui generis) within the Kingdom. These territories will have a direct tie to the Netherlands and can also have cooperative relationships with the other countries in the Dutch Kingdom.

The island territory of Curaçao has a remarkable diversity of cultures. The ethnic inhabitants of Curaçao—the Arawak, Dutch, Spanish, West Indian, Latin, and African— have created a rich heritage and thriving culture. Although Dutch is the official language, English and Spanish are widely spoken. The majority of the residents of Curaçao also speak the native language, Papiamentu—a Creole mix of Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, French, English, and Arawak Indian. At the moment there are around forty to fifty different nationalities residing on Curaçao. Despite racial, cultural, economical, social, and religious differences, these people have largely found a way to live together on the island.

Although Curaçao is a mix of nationalities, the African descendents make up the majority. Rising up through the oppression of the slave trade, the Afro-Curaçaoan people have established rich cultural traditions that have been embraced by both native and visitor alike. However, they also form the majority of the social economically underprivileged on the island

In the past few months, during the negotiations between Curaçao and the Dutch Kingdom, some citizens have demonstrated against the amendment of the constitutional structure. The outrage is largely caused over Holland’s insistence that, while Curaçao can be granted autonomy within the Dutch Kingdom, they, the Dutch, will still preside over certain issues (for example, criminal persecution). When Aruba was granted autonomy in 1986, the Arubans were not subject to this condition, and many Curaçaoans, particularly those of African descent, are outraged. Violence during the demonstrations has been escalating and the reason seems to be—but not limited to—racial hatred. For some Curaçaoans, the memory of Dutch Colonialism and its subsequent African slave trade is still fresh. Most Afro-Curaçaoans are the descendents of slaves who were brought by the Dutch to Curaçao from Africa, and to them, the fact that the Netherlands can still control some aspects of island life is reminiscent of the power the Dutch colonialists had over the slaves. As a result, many Afro-Curacaoans are clashing with the island’s European demographic, and arguing for more freedom. The Salon focused on how this amendment will affect the social relationships in Curaçao.

As usual Janera opened the Salon by introducing herself and talking briefly about the topic. Indicating that she herself is living abroad, she requested the local experts to introduce themselves and to give their opinion on the identity of Curaçao. These experts consisted of a former prime-minister of the Netherlands Antilles, lawyers, accountants, artists, entrepreneurs, an internationally regarded medical doctor, writers, managing directors of private and public companies on Curaçao, ambassadors of the Dutch Kingdom in foreign countries, a chief editor of a well known local newspaper, a radio commentator. Though all were Curaçaoan, those living abroad called the United States, the Netherlands, Spain, Rwanda, and Paraguay home.

Everyone introduced him- or- her- self and gave their opinion, either in Dutch or Papiamentu. Greg Elias said he feels that Curaçao has lost the once-tolerant identity of its society, and he expressed his concerns about the latest demonstrations against the amendment and the violence involved. He said that he has been reading and studying about other nations who have faced similar problems, but he could not find a solution for Curaçao.

Another guest mentioned that outstanding leadership should bring back the confidence of the society and help Curaçao solve these problems. Following that, someone suggested that the people of the island should be global citizens, living by international norms and values. Curaçaoans should listen to their fellow islanders in order to find a solution to their mutual problems. Guests agreed that it is difficult to create an identity when people are living in poverty.

Several guests said that Curaçaoans are not well informed on the issues of the proposed constitutional changes, and feel that some political groups are using these changes and misinformation to divide the people, presumably to gain support. Some of the Salon guests expressed their willingness to collaborate in projects to better inform the people of Curaçao of the constitutional structure and also to combat the poverty on the island. Others talked about forming volunteer groups dedicated to informing their fellow islanders about the issues at hand. Ensuring all inhabitants have equal and accessible knowledge on the proposed changes would help to prevent extremism on Curaçao, guests agreed.

It was clear that everyone had one thing in common: All are very proud of Curaçao, regardless of where they live in the world. No matter where the Global Nomads from Curaçao reside, they will always support the island and will always consider Curaçao their home. Janera indicated that everyone, no matter where he or she lives, can and must, in one way or the other, contribute to the development of Curaçao and the identity of the “Yu di Korsou” – child of Curaçao. Curaçaoans must say no to intolerance and they must create a sincere dialogue between each other in order to keep and to strengthen the proud, tolerant and unified identity of “Yu di Korsou.”

Our Istanbul salon, held on the rooftop of the Four Seasons Sultanahmet last week, was a rousing success—and I’m not just saying that because I’m part of the JANERA.com team. The building itself and the setting alone—betwixt the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, overlooking the oldest quarter of Istanbul on one side and the Sea of Marmara on the other—was enough to make for a memorable evening. The luxury hotel’s previous incarnation was the Ottoman prison where “Midnight Express” took place (and the retelling of that story by ex-prisoner Billy Hayes and filmmaker Oliver Stone colored the modern perception of Turkey ever since). Sandwiched between two historic edifices, the latter of which has been a church for a thousand years, a mosque for five hundred, and for the past 50 years a secular museum, also provided a provocative backdrop for the subject at hand: East-West identity. Despite trying to meet European Union standards on everything from plastics to human trafficking policies, Turkey is also ruled by a conservative prime minister who wants to relax a secular ban on women wearing headscarves in universities. (Currently the country’s democratic constitution forbids this.) Roger Cohen aptly summarized the country’s contradictions in a recent New York Times Op-Ed: “a nation of nuances, Muslim but not Islamist, religious in culture but secular in construct, of the Occident and the Orient, bordering the West’s cradle in Greece and its crucible in Iraq.”

As guests streamed in during the cocktail hour, I introduced myself to Ferhan Alesi, a beautiful Turkish woman—and one of the evening’s experts—whose job as an “intercultural trainer” sounds like it’s both fun and fulfilling. Alesi, who has lived in eight countries over the past 16 years, trains expats in Turkey how to adapt to the local culture. (Hint: use body language, as the Turks do.)

Alesi also advises Turkish CEOs, when they are relocated for business, on how to master the nuances of their new culture. She earned a degree in Intercultural Communications—a growing field—at Pacific University in Portland, Oregon before moving back to Istanbul in 2003 with her Sicilian financier husband. She was the first (and so far only) Turkish citizen to serve on the board of the European chapter of the Society for Intercultural Education, Training and Research (SIETAR)—a professional network for people working in the field of intercultural relations.

I wandered over to my boyfriend, Michael, who was engrossed in a conversation with Ersin Pamuksüzer, the founder of LifeCo—the Canyon Ranch of Turkey. As I sipped my white Doluca wine, Pamuksüzer told me about LifeCo’s several detox spa centers, including one in Bodrum and one in Istanbul where guests eat raw food, do juice fasts, sweat out toxins in hamams, practice yoga, and even undergo colonic hydrotherapy.

Soon, I was talking to Timur Altop, a 35-year-old media consultant who also has one foot in each culture, American and Turkish. Born and raised in America to Turkish parents, Altop moved to Istanbul recently and founded a publishing consultancy firm, Maya Media. He has launched Turkish versions of U.S. magazines such as Men’s Health and Women’s Health (to launch this fall) and helped adapt Donald Trump’s “The Apprentice” for Turkish T.V.

At 8 p.m.Janera Soerel instructed the 25 guests to gather around the long, gorgeously laid table, introducing herself and the concept of these dinner salons before introducing local co-host, Anastasia Ashman. (Ashman, co-editor of the best-seller “Tales from the Expat Harem,” also wrote this story for issue #2 of JANERA.com)“Turkey is asking itself some of the world’s most difficult questions these days,” said Ashman, comparing the nation’s quest with her own identity issues as a global nomad and the questions central to her work. “We chose tonight’s topic because it is relevant to Global Nomads who are concerned with the concepts of personal identity, community and belonging, and the balance of cultural influences that can sometimes be at odds.”

As black-suited waiters served the first course—a warm goat cheese şakşuka (like a quiche without crust)—we went around the table, briefly introducing ourselves until Jennifer Coolidge, an Oxford-educated oil and gas consultant whose specialty is Turkmenistan, rose. Suddenly, with the muezzin from the Blue Mosque (as well as other mosques in the area) belting out the call to prayer from the minarets, it was clear that we’d have to take a brief moment of silence. (Strangely, there was also what sounded like a recorded prayer coming from the Hagia Sophia—something that surprised many of the Turks at the table.)

To my right sat Robin Sparks, a journalist who has lived all over the world—in Buenos Aires, Kathmandu, and Paris, to name a few. But out of all these regal cities, she prefers Istanbul because of its location between West and East. “I love watching where it’s going,” said Sparks, with a twinkle in her eye.

During the next course— a spinach and cheese-filled lasagna called börek —I got to know an American woman who is a DEA agent at the American Consulate in Istanbul. She and four other U.S. agents work in conjunction with the Istanbul police to intercept the heroin trade from Afghanistan. She and Alesi told me that they feel Istanbul is much more progressive than the rest of the country when it comes to religion, allowing all faiths to practice freely and openly. Later, other guests said that may be true, and Istanbul certainly has a long history of offering religious refuge—to Sephardic Jews expelled from Spain in the 15th century, for instance—yet the Muslim sects of Sufis and Alevis are not allowed to worship openly.

We played musical chairs and I found myself next to Susan McMurrain Erturan, who owns Mozaik, a design company that imports Knoll and other furniture to several showrooms in the city. She, Tara Hopkins (a professor at Sabancı University whose focus is civil society) and I talked about Turkish literature. Having just read Orhan Pamuk’s riveting melancholy novel “Snow,” I was curious to know how the Nobel Prize winner is received by Turkish intellectuals. (The book is loosely about the clash between radical Islam and Western ideals.) Hopkins said the general feeling is that his writing is too heavy and difficult but that her work has taken her to the town of Kars (where “Snow” is set) and the town really is as depressing as he depicts it in his novel.

Finally, after the main course of sage chicken rolled in the Beyti style, it was time for the experts to sum up their conversations. Expert Şerif Kaynar (country managing director of executive recruiting firm Korn/Ferry), who also owns a stylish Mediterranean culture bookstore in the trendy neighborhood of Cihangir, said his part of the table had focused on the cultural differences in the workplace—how eastern-tinged Turkish family-like bonds at work, while creating a feeling of stability and encouraging loyalty among coworkers, are not necessarily positive elements for ambitious professionals who want to climb the corporate ladder.

Hopkins said her part of the table played with the concept of identity, and the fact that Turkey may be suffering an inferiority complex. (Which poses its own challenges—of not being self-confident and always wanting to be different.) Though the country may be democratic in name, Hopkins thinks it has a long way to go. To illustrate this, she mentioned a sign that’s hanging along Cirağan Caddesi that says “We love our country, we love democracy!” “Would you need to have a sign proclaiming this if it were true?” Hopkins posed.

Neşe Gündoğan, secretary general of the National Turkish Olympic Committee and a former Turkish running champion, spoke about the subject that was on everybody’s mind: sports (the Turkey/Germany Euro 2008 soccer match had been the night before). Gündoğan noted that she’s seen a lot of prejudice towards “developing countries” such as Turkey from European sporting bodies.

As dessert arrived—spice bazaar ice cream and a carmelized milk pudding called kazandibi—Michael pointed out that human beings have a tendency to conform and to innovate. The consensus at his end of the table was that the prevailing cultural identity in Istanbul is toward conforming through product branding, a Western phenomenon. This has a stultifying effect on innovation—be it Eastern or Western.

To the entire table Janera posed the question, “Is there really an identity crisis?” In her opinion, after the many conversations she’d had throughout the night, the differences in the city—East and West—were largely socio-economic. The poorer neighborhoods of Istanbul tend to be “Eastern” while the wealthier areas of Nişantaşı, Beyoğlu, and Cihangir, tend to be more “Western.” Hopkins seemed to agree, reminding us all of the larger picture. The poverty rate in Turkey is at 28%—the highest it’s ever been. Guests began to throw out similar dichotomies in business and education. For instance, in Turkey, American businessmen receive training on how to work with women executives (since there are more in Turkey than in the United States), yet high-placed businesswomen are only seen in the top 500 companies. Also, despite the fact that the majority of the nation’s university professors are women, the education of Turkish women remains an issue, especially in the East of the country.

Guest Kristen Stevens, a native Atlantan who is now a journalist at the Turkish Daily News (Istanbul’s oldest English language daily), covered the event. (Her story was published a few days later.) A television crew from Turkish national TV news channel Haber Turk taped the proceedings and interviewed guests, while a documentary film crew from VTR headed by veteran director Enis Riza captured the salon for a film to be released in 2010 for Istanbul’s European Culture Capital celebration. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++