Explorations
Digging for Energy in Distant Lands
Dispatch 5: Energy for the Future
Esra Eren in her hometown of Izmir.Photo by Suzan Erem
IZMIR—We are sitting at Asansor, a restaurant atop a century-old, cliff-side elevator built to connect the highest elevation of Izmir to a lower one. We can see across the entire bay to high-rises and homes in almost every neighborhood in this city of more than three million people. In the bay, tankers and freighters line up to load and unload at the port, a Mediterranean cruise ship sounds its departure, and smaller ferry boats zig-zag from one landing to another.
But from this distant point we can't hear Izmir—the constant rush of traffic and bleating horns that fill its streets or the low, muttered requests of the occasional crouched woman shrouded in baggy clothes, damaged children sitting beside her, hoping for a coin to drop. We can't hear the constant hawking of simit—the local sesame coated bread—or mops and brooms, or fresh mussels or tourist trinkets. Clinging to the edge of a high cliff, we can only hear the clink of heavy silverware and the breeze rustling leaves on the fig and apple trees.
Esra Eren points north of us to a tower nestled in a nearby hillside. "That was my high school," she says. "That tall building is where the director lives." Beyond the director's home, sharing the same faded yellow color, with the same rust-colored roof tiles, are low rectangular buildings. Closer in and below us, perched on every rooftop, is a pair of solar panels connected to two horizontal water tanks, stacked one on top of the other. Out of sight a few kilometers west is one of Turkey's only wind farms, and far below us is percolating the geothermal energy that Turkey has begun to tap.
I'm having lunch with Eren and her brother Koray, who has brought us to this fascinating place. Koray, 30, is a consultant for Philips Electronics. His lunch is punctuated with cell phone calls from clients and suppliers in Portugal and Turkey inquiring about television parts shipments. After lunch, he will take us to Ege University, where Eren studied chemical engineering. But she has struggled to find me someone to interview. One professor, who teaches renewable energy, is annoyed that her former student is promoting petroleum products. Another, she says, doesn't believe in foreign- language education, even though he teaches at an English-language university. He won't encourage her graduate work at an American university by speaking with me. Her mentor is out of town on vacation. Thankfully, the acting director, Zehra Ozcelik, is willing to talk to me.
Ege University, where Eren earned a master's degree in chemical engineering. Photo by Suzan Erem
Over chicken shish and grilled Turkish meatballs, Koray offers informed opinions about Turkey's resources and governmental policies.
"We have pipelines from Azerbaijan and Russia, where we receive natural gas," Koray tells us. But he is skeptical. "We have more natural gas in Turkey, I believe, but we're not digging. It's a government decision. We have to buy something from [these countries] to maintain relations." I learn later that Turkey had recently hosted a major international conference addressing its role in the development and transportation of petroleum and natural gas to Europe in a shifting world energy market.
Koray is well-versed in Turkey's role as conduit. "Petroleum from Iran and Iraq comes through Turkey," he says. "Natural gas from Azerbaijan and Russia to Europe passes through Turkey. And we charge them for that, of course." He adds that what doesn't travel in pipelines goes by ship from Adana, a Mediterranean port in southeastern Turkey, near the Iraq border.
When I ask Koray how Eren has changed in her last year in America, he hesitates.
"Time passes, and even if she stayed in Turkey, we would see some changes," he says finally, looking her up and down. "We see some kilos, but the operating system is the same." He smiles at his little sister. "America has not taught her respect for brothers!"
Minutes later, while Koray negotiates Izmir's nerve-wracking traffic, he explains that Ege University was founded as a partnership between the agricultural school and the engineering school. ( "Engineering" here includes not only the electrical, computer, chemical, biological, civil and industrial emphases Americans are familiar with, but such Turkish specialties as textile and leather engineering.) Entering the campus, we pass the ag school's greenhouses to get to the chemical engineering building. Currently, Ege has about 10,000 students, most of them away for summer vacation.
Zehra Ozcelik, one of Eren's professors at Ege University. Photo by Suzan Erem
Zehra Ozcelik is a wiry woman with bright eyes and a quick smile, though she appears weary from six hours of today's teaching, including administering the stack of exams now resting under her right elbow.
What opportunities do the scientists at Ege have to learn about technology from other countries? Zehra sighs.
"Conference fees are very high," she says. "Most of us cannot go, but in two weeks I will go to Prague for a chemical engineering conference." It's possible she is attending the only conference available to faculty this year. But Ozcelik lights up when Eren reminds her of a new student exchange program that sent three Ege students to Portugal last year—adding, with obvious pride, "Two Portuguese students came here!" Next year, 11 students will go to Greece, Germany, Spain, Italy, and Portugal.
The scarcity of funds makes Eren's Turkish Petroleum Corporation scholarship to Penn State all that more cherished.
Even to a casual observer like me, Turkey seems to be making the most of its energy resources. Geothermal power heats homes and the greenhouses that supply Europe with fruits and vegetables. Natural gas heats heat homes and industry. Nuclear power is debated on television and in the newspapers. Wind power furnishes some portion of the energy for a resort town not far from here. Solar power provides hot water in most homes in the country, and Turkey harnesses its rivers for hydroelectric power. Coal is still the mainstay for many areas, and Turks still burn asphaltite as coal. Petroleum continues to fuel over-the-road travel—from the semi-controlled chaos of its city streets to the impressive high tech bus system that operates throughout the country. But with an annual growth rate of more than 5 percent in each of the last five years, Turkey is drawing more than ever on its energy reserves and imports. Eren's future work could play an integral role in Turkey's energy outlook.
"My job is just a little part of the chain," she says. "When I finish my thesis, there won't be big differences in the country or Turkish Petroleum. Everybody knows that. But I will help my company analyze samples maybe more quickly, maybe more clearly." As she faces returning to Turkey with the knowledge she's acquired, she struggles to put her opportunity into the proper context.
"I'm just 25, my colleagues are over 40. I have been in the U.S., a really big country, and have gained technological knowledge, but they have more experience. I don't know which one is better right now. This is my question."
In the end, she decides, the greatest energy source of all could be Turkey's young minds. "I believe that there is a linkage between the energy inside the brains, bodies, and souls of Turkey's youth—more than 60 percent of our population—and our ability to find alternative, sustainable energy sources," she says.