For many years I have been going to Akyaka, one of the most beautiful paradises in the world, built in the most beautiful part of the Gulf of Gökova, to swim. I would sit and read for hours on the terrace of the "Dolunay" Restaurant, a shabby restaurant that nobody knows about and nobody goes to, almost 7 km. away from Akyaka, at the tip of a deep hill, with bald tables and broken chairs, under the gazebo adorned with vines and overhanging bunches of grapes. Until I memorize the sunset moment by moment, and after I have recalled the inner ecstasy of the impressionists, I drink one last cup of rabbit's blood tea and slowly make my way back to the town. On the way, as if seeing it for the first time, I inhale every corner of the beautiful Gulf of Gökova and arrive home with sighs that miss the smell of iodine while I am still there.

After half an hour of preparation and change, I sit in the most beautiful corner prepared for me by Mesut, the owner of the "Orfoz Restaurant" where I made a reservation for my evening routine, and enjoy the Azmak. Sometimes I have fun with the geese that I throw bread to, sometimes with the eels gnawing on fish heads, and sometimes I shudder with the screams of a group of geese attacked by otters. And every time I visit; I bathe with a bottle of sinkov to avoid being attacked by millions of mosquitoes, which are forbidden to be killed for the sustenance of thousands of different birds, nesting in the eucalyptus trees on the edge of the Azmak shore and in the Azmak swamp, which is a kind of bird paradise. As part of my Akyaka getaways, which have become a habit, drinking churned ayran with mixed toast at the Akçapınar toast shop is a must. I loved Akyaka.

After being away from Akyaka for almost two years due to my busy work schedule, I went back two weeks ago. Even before I landed in the town, there was a crowd and a strangeness from the observation hill. The moment we slowly turned onto the small side road that leads back to Akyaka, there was a convoy that took us 20 minutes to get to my house, which took us about a minute.

That night in Akyaka, where I learned that thousands of local tourists flocked to Akyaka, I stayed up until the morning with the screams and cries of dozens of stray dogs that they had brought from big cities to make their children happy and abandoned here on their way back; and cars speeding down the main street, which has only one street, like a racetrack; and Muğla University's summer school students who had been drinking until the morning and were blind drunk.
The next day I saw that the Dolunay Restaurant had been renovated and had taken on a strange modernity. It was now full of local and foreign tourists who had arrived in very stylish cars. There were more comfortable armchairs than chairs, more fashionable dinnerware, more varied menus.

Dozens of trendy bars and cafes had opened on the beach and the sounds of music were ringing the whole bay. Even the narrow streets in secondary and tertiary locations were filled with bars and souvenir shops. In the past, we couldn't find a single restaurant to eat in, and sometimes we even had to go to Marmaris for shopping. Although the change created a better environment for everyone, it didn't feel settled and natural. I didn't like it. There may not be much we can do about the way things change. But there is a lot we can do about how we react to it. We have complete, real and total control over it.

We cannot spend our time vainly regretting the past or complaining about uncomfortable changes. Because change is the essence of life. There is a strange comfort in the idea that we can look forward to our future even if it is dark. Battered women have admitted that staying in a bad relationship is less scary than leaving it. People work for years in jobs they don't like. They can't leave their homes and cities when they have the best opportunities. And I liked the Dolunay Restaurant, which was smaller and underprivileged, with tables with broken legs, wooden chairs, goats frolicking, and serving their customers the imam bayıldı they had cooked for themselves.

But knowing how change works gives us the power to see the whole change in a positive light. It is very easy to talk about adapting to change, but it is hard to execute, the process can be laborious. Yet all this will be less exhausting than fighting against change. Events, objects, people, cities are now much more similar to each other than they have ever been.

In fact, we all resist change, but at the same time we seek it. I think this is our biggest paradox. Unconscious, involuntary and destructive.

I think the best thing is to create and accept change as part of the natural flow of life, without upsetting it. Creating change when we discover that something is not working in our lives.... When something is no longer working, it is time for change.

Because life is about movement. And if something stops moving, it dies.

Mukaddes Pekin Başdil

Researcher-Author

Source: Denizli Haber