Istanbul, Turkey: The Festival of Smiling Children

Many of you know that at the end of April, 2007, I made a one-week trip to Istanbul as the only US representative to the International Festival of Smiling Children. Anyone who has seen me since know that this was a phenomenal experience: 400+ children, from the far corners of the world, with three things in common: They're all kids, they all have a disability, and they all work together in some form of music, dance, theater or poetry.

The children performed for and with each other: Witness, the Zulu wheelchair dance from an orphanage in South Africa, the traditional Pakistani songs from the children with visual impairments, who, up to the founding of their school a few years ago, were meant to go to an asylum for their education, if any, or just stay home. Their disability is a stigma, one that denied them an education. One lovely family, the only representatives of Kosovo, traveled with their 5 year old daughter, who was in a wheelchair, and their little two year old boy, the world's most patient toddler. The little girl, for her performance, recited traditional poetry from her homeland.

The entire festival --food, lodging, activities, transportation --was paid for by the Turkish Spinal Cord Society and was planned by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I paid my own airfare, but once I landed in Istanbul, I was treated as a visiting dignitary, as were all the children and their caregivers and teachers.

There were too many meaningful moments about this festival to list here: Touring Hagia Sofia with 400 kids with disabilities, nightly dinners for 1000 people, walking through the cobblestone streets of the Sultanahmet neighborhood with children who were so excited to be there, and even more excited, it seemed, to be together.

After a day or two, children developed tight bonds with each other that cut through all barriers. One group in our hotel, from Hungary, had several boy who were about eight or nine. A South African group, the Zulu princes, they had some young lads, too. Within hours, the Hungarians and the South Africans had taught each other the only word they needed to share between them to communicate: The word for friend.

For links to the festivals, website, please click here: http://www.gulencocuk.org/