Revisiting Turkey?

In months past I raved about a two-week trip Irene and I took to Turkey in the fall of 2014. Starting in Istanbul, flying to Ismir, busing down to the southern coast, sailing in a gulet along the coast for several days, and then trekking inland to Cappadocia. It was great fun, and we had a chance to see close-up how people lived and worked and played in a very different culture. Both of us passed the news along about what a great visit we had, and encouraged others to do the same.
    So here's a burning question: Knowing what we know now, would we go back? Things changed for me with the flood of refugees from Syria and elsewhere into Turkey. It's not so easy to play tourist when the beaches once reserved for mai tais and tans are filled with scenes of desperation. And now all this has been capped by two incidents in the last few weeks--a bombing in Istanbul, and another one in Ankara.
    I don't know yet whether the most recent bombing was done by disaffected Kurds or by Islamic State partisans, but the damage done to expectations is severe. Turkey benefits from tourism. And tourists benefit from the exposure to a different culture. It's a mutually enriching experience. Now Turkey (and Greece and Lebanon) are being flooded by refugees in what has become an immense humanitarian disaster.
    For a few months, Europe opened its arms to the refugees. Not anymore. There is growing resistance in Europe (and the U.S.) to absorbing any of the panicked hordes. So Europe talks about closing the borders with Greece and Turkey. NIMBY prevails. Fear prevails. Not just from the fear of jihadists or plain old criminals sneaking in with the refugees, but in the sheer numbers of refugees with their different habits and faiths impacting the cultures of their new host countries. Which means ISIS scores points in a very emotional battle. And so do the anti-immigrant, anti-otherness parties in the West.
    We know what has happened in the past when refugee camps were set up. Think of the Somali camps in Kenya, home to half a million souls at their height. Think of the Palestinian camps along the West Bank. How long has it been? Sixty years and counting? The temporary encampments become permanent. Lives get lived out in those camps. The camps turn into pressure cookers. Resentment and radicalization rise.
    Yes, there are pockets here and there of charity and compassion. Some Turkish families have set up informal channels to assist refugees from the conflict in Syria. But compassion fatigue is real.
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    My wife and I may travel to Greece this year. Not as tourists, not exactly, but to touch bases with her family, who twice suffered displacement in the Twentieth Century. And in a small way to be witnesses to one of this century's most profound crises. I grew up in a tradition of bearing witness, and this year will mark a continuation of that sensibility. It's time to remark on the state of things as they really are, not as I want them to be. Time to face reality with open eyes, and not look away.