The night of the earthquake, I couldn't sleep. I had something occupying my mind. A problem that sent my mind racing wondering about the meaning of friendship, love and trust. I tossed and turned and at 3 AM gave up. I got up, turned on my light, grabbed my notebook and sat down on my bed to write. Then everything began moving. I looked up, fascinated and watched the huge wardrobe next to me start swaying. It didn't stop. Earthquake... I thought. I got up and stood in my doorway because I had heard that doorways were one of the safest places in a building during an earthquake. Zarife was in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Looks like we both had earthquake training," I joked. We stared at each other wide eyed.

"This is the worst quake I've been in," she said.

"Yah, me too," I replied.

"It is really long," she said as the house continued to rock.

"Yah," I said. There was a moment of silence. Everything still swayed.

"Man, this is a really long quake," I said.

"When is it going to end?" she asked, not expecting an answer. Everything became still. Then another started.

"I've never been in a quake this bad before."

Finally it stopped. We both stood, supporting ourselves against the door frames since our legs wouldn't hold us. Zarife moved to the laundry room doorway, away from the messed up bathroom wiring. There were several short aftershocks. We both sat down and waited. Stinky, the cat, wandered out from where she had been hiding. We waited a little longer and then went searching for the kittens. The hallway was filled with broken glass from a mirror that fell (is that bad luck for us or the earthquake?) Portakal was under a chair and refused to move. Zarife got a candle and I turned on my maglight since the power had gone out. She called her parents in the US. We took our places in the doorways since there were still aftershocks. Eventually we both tried to go back to bed. A moment later an aftershock sent us leaping for our doorways. We waited. The cats came out of hiding and huddled under my bed. After a few more foiled attempts at going to bed. I grabbed my pillow and tried to sleep in the doorway. By this time I was really exausted. Zarife suggested I call my parents. I did. They didn't know about the earthquake, yet. By this time it was beginning to get light. We both went to bed. A moment later we were up again. There was a fearsome banging on our door accompanied by the doorbell ringing wildly and our neighbor shouting. We leapt out of bed and ran to the door, only to remember the glass and run back to our rooms to put on our shoes.

"Panik Yapma!" Our neighbor yelled. "Don't panic!"

He told us the radio had said everyone should leave their buildings. We pulled on some clothing and went outside. People were wandering the streets. It was almost 6AM. I was tired and terribly hungry. I looked hopefully at the hotel across the street's cafe. They had a generator. We hung out with the neighbors a bit and then decided to find a place to get something to eat, some tea for Zarife and some coffee for me. The latest report was that we weren't supposed to go back into our building for the next 24 hours. We went to Taksim and found an enterprising simit seller. The simits were 100 instead of the usual 75 TL. We bought a couple and then found a cafe with a generator. Taksim was packed with people, already camping out on the square. I was struck with how it looked like a hippy gathering in the 60s. The women with their bright scarves and floral skirts could easily pass for flower children. The cafe was packed. We split a chicken pudding and got our respective drinks. I laughed, "I haven't seen so many people who looked like complete shit since I was in school." The joyous bustling population of Istanbul was in grubby clothes with huge circles under their eyes, unbrushed hair and smelling a bit stale. I was not any better. Zarife and I opted to go back to our apartment. It is a sturdy Art Nouveau building. I was so exausted, "Who cares if it collapses... I want to sleep."

I slept until noon and then went to Istiklal looking for lunch. It was packed, as usual, but everyone looked like zombies, mouths stretched in straight lines across their faces, shadows under their eyes and slow tired footsteps. I got a gozleme and stopped for a moment to join a crowd watching the corner of a building that looked like it was about to fall off. It is still in place. I bought some baklahva. It is interesting what was open.

It wasn't until later that I learned the full extent of the earthquake. Central Istanbul was fortunate. It was barely touched in comparison to the other places. Zarife and I turned on the TV. There were buildings collapsing, people being dragged out from under the rubble, a bus half smashed by a falling overpass, huge cracks in the highways, people with dirt and tear smeared faces, bodies, agony.... I couldn't watch. I left the room so Zarife wouldn't see that I was starting to cry. The earthquake had lasted for 48 seconds and was 7.4 to 7.8 on the richter scale. The second one was 5. A week later, they have still managed to pull a few survivors out from under the rubble. Each survivor is praised by the papers as a miracle. I almost started crying in the grocery store today as I saw the picture of a child they had rescued. He had been under the rubble for 6 days. I have never seen such a look of absolute terror on anyones face before. All I could think of was that even though he had survived, he would never fully recover. People are terrified. People have been camping out in parks and squares for the past week. Last night there was a rainstorm and that made a lot of people go back into their buildings. But even now, everyone is worried about another earthquake. Lying in bed, you are startled by feeling your heart beat against the mattress.

I haven't been to the areas where the most damage occured. People who have been there talk about the smell of bodies. Everyone is doing what they can to help. But the atmosphere is heavy. We don't want to think about the earthquake anymore but we can't avoid it. Life is such a fragile thing. We deal with so many trivial problems everyday, that we forget how wonderful it is that we are alive. My friend, Ildem, said something to me last night that expressed things so wonderfully.

"Our problems are luxuries. We have food, our health, shelter, our friends... We are lucky that we are able to worry about love. I love my problems! They are luxury problems."