The Blue Mosque and a Family Reunion

Istanbul: Conquered

Istanbul was my destination from late Thursday through Sunday. In the 3 full days I spent there, in constant motion - seeing new things, doing new things - I barely scratched the surface of this layered, ancient metropolis. I am frankly taken aback by its magnitude, it's history, it's power, it's elusiveness. But what I did see and experience, however, is as unforgettable as anything I've experienced yet. Istanbul is what Turkey is most noted for, and both Turks and travelers from all over the world consider it the greatest city on earth. Not since Cairo have I felt such a constant buzz of energy that does more to excite, seduce, and fascinate than overwhelm.

The trip started on Thursday evening. I met two Fulbrighters in Sultanahmet for a drink before heading to the hostel. We sat for a few serene moments in a nearby cafe, decompressing before dropping our bags off. On our way to the hostel we past both the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofya, illuminated in the dark, overpowering the landscape. The sight, even at night, took my breath away. I happily crossed a goal off of my bucket list before moving on. I went back the following day to take a closer look, but it was too late to go inside. No matter, I'll be back many more times.

I was fortunate enough to meet up with my cousin and her husband for dinner! My cousin was in Istanbul visiting her old college roommate, soaking in the sights, and having a wonderful time. We met up at the fancy Four Seasons Bosphorous for an exquisite meal and found ourselves watching the Republic Day fireworks display lining the Bosphorous. In fact, there were about 5 different points along the river from which they launched the fireworks, and from out point of view, we saw them all simultaneously. The celebration was clearly planned well as each display was perfectly in sync with the rest. Whereas the fireworks were spectacular, the highlight of the night was sitting down to a delicious meal and talking. It was wonderful to see family in Turkey, and made me a bit nostalgic for home.

The next day was spent in Ortakoy, a charming village on the Bosphorous, lined with cafes and vendors. While hanging out by the water, I met Ivan, a Venezuelan gentlemen currently residing in London and working in Istanbul for the week. He approached me and confessed to dropping his camera-phone in the Bosphorous the night before. He explained that he knew almost exactly where he dropped it and planned to retrieve it in hopes of salvaging his pictures (Good luck! yikes). As he changed into shorts, I watched over his belongings. His jumping into the Bosphorous caused quite a stir amongst people sitting in the general area, but lo! Ivan was successful! He retrieved his camera, dried off, and was on his way. We exchanged e-mails, and I plan to send my pictures of the "Bosphorous Swimmer" his way.

I walked around by myself for awhile, until a couple Fulbrighters arrived. We decided on a Bosphorous tour, boarded a ship, and cruised around for an hour taking pictures, chatting, and breathing in the sea air.

I spent the rest of my time with friends, eating, mostly, and walking around. I can't wait to do it again... The energy and soul of Istanbul are alluring and may only be aptly described over some fresh fish and a bottle of raki.

On a darker note, it wasn't until I had boarded the bus back to Bilecik that I got wind of the suicide bombing in Taksim Square, Istanbul. I immediately called my friends who hadn't left yet to check in. They were far from the incident. It's unnerving, but it's important to know that these acts can happen anywhere and at any time. Istanbul is by no means prone to such attacks, the last of which occurred in 2001. Fortunately, nobody was killed along with the perpetrator, but many (32) were injured and they and their families are in my thoughts and prayers tonight.

I miss you all, and wish you a peaceful existence. Time for some more class planning, and another hot chocolate.

Salam

Eskisehir

My friend is right. Eskisehir, Turkey is a perfect setting for the next romantic comedy. I traveled there this weekend having been exhausted by enthusiastic tales of its charm. Naturally, I went there with substantial expectations, but I wasn't let down in the slightest. It's a young city, which may have had something to do with it. But besides that, it's simply beautiful and full of life. It lies on either side of a small river, dotted with small boats that load customers and set off for voyages of 15 to 20 minutes. Sounds like Venice, yea? Not to mention the shop-lined canal, bustling with trendy fashionistas, young couples, and weathered old men puffing cigarettes and clutching newspapers. My enthusiasm for this city will not dwindle, and when I share in its charm, I can confidently say it's a wonderful wonderful experience.

What's interesting about Eskisehir, though, is that it's virtually unmentioned in the guidebooks, which makes it a gem for visitors who come to visit me. It's only an hour and a half by bus, and only 40 minutes by car, which makes for an easy day-trip. What I found unique about the city in particular, was it's European essence, especially as my friends and I cruised the canal with its boats, statues, and beds of flowers. Not that these are uncommon in Anatolia, but a European spirit was pervasive in a way unfelt in Bursa or Ankara. It's tough to put into words, but a quick trip to Khave Dunyasi might solidify the same notion in your mind. Think of the overwhelming scent of coffee and chocolate, mixed with a light tang of cigarettes lingering in the cool air, and finally, soft house music adding electricity to our surroundings.

We stayed with some wonderful hosts who showed us a good time on Friday night and through till Sunday. Their hospitality was overwhelming, and the conversations we were able to have were compelling and meaningful. We talked, for awhile, about religiosity in Turkey and in a broader sense - its power, benefit, curse, and its role as divisive weapon and also as a safehaven and an often necessary refuge. The contradiction between the beauty of values and meaning found in nearly all religions, and its corrupted practice, will baffle the mind for ages. Love and war have a funny way of overlapping, it seems. Everyone's opinion was shared, valid, and considered. I can't thank our hosts enough for their warmth, generosity, and openness.

I'll post some pictures for you all to enjoy. I'm enjoying my days, despite the dreaded and incessant phone calls from disagreeable bureaucrats. But I keep trudging onward and upward like I should. I've stayed so open to this experience and I thank God for that.

Goodnight.

Classes on classes

The hilarity of teaching ESL, especially to University students, is a major motivation when I wake up in the morning. I recall just a few classes ago, asking a student to write a simple sentence on the board as we worked on proper sentence structure. I should have resisted allowing a student so enthusiastic about the exercise to showcase his craft. And when he finished, and abruptly ran back to his seat, I found myself reading aloud to the rest of the class, "Ahmed likes muscular girls." I turned to the other teacher in classroom who was doing his best, (though woefully failing) to suppress his laughter. It was a great sentence, both grammatically and artistically, and its wonderful to see your students shine in such moments of glory.

Not to mention, being the only native english speaker in the class has its quirks. A rapid tangent burns off negative energy, and leaves students laughing and confused. If I speak quickly enough, students have no idea what I'm saying, a probably for the better. The same goes for them, of course. So any other teachers in the classroom have the benefit of understanding both sides of the aisle and reveling in the jokes offered up by the Turkish collective, and that nutty American teacher. We covered morning routines today, and when it came time to include "putting on your clothes," I stopped and told everyone that this was especially important. My colleague started to tear up, and the students blankly and innocently gawked back at me. It's moments such as those I cherish.

Turkish is coming slow. In an ironic twist, I find myself a decent teacher of language, and a struggling learner. English and Turkish are so different, unlike, say, English and Spanish, which can sometimes feel similar save for a drastic accent change (necessary - necesitar, police - policia, etc. You get the point.)

This weekend, I'm exploring Eskisehir, a city only about an hour south of Bilecik. I'm interested, because this is apparently where everyone from Bilecik goes for the weekends to spend time with friends, shop, visit family, see a movie, socialize, write a book, walk a dog, save a life, shake hands, ....

The night is coming to a close. My eyes hurt because I'm tired and because my computer screen is too bright against the backdrop of the dimly lit cafe.

Balikesir, Kedilar, ve Baliklar

Tamam, how do I begin? I haven't written an entry in awhile for a few good reasons. The first is that the University Guesthouse I've occupied for the last week or so was without internet. Nowadays, the only places without internet are Jungles and Turkish University Guesthouses, or maybe just those in Bilecik. But the second reason is far more positive. The weekend was spent in Balikesir, visiting a fellow Fulbrighter. Balikesir is located about 4 hours West of Bilecik, in the Marmara region, where the climate is a bit warmer, and palm trees have just enough sustinance to survive. Balikesir literally translates to "Fish Slave," and for obvious reasons. My friend and I took full advantage of the fish market, selling the freshest sea creatures for wonderfully cheap prices. It wasn't long before we had picked out a pair of fish, lathered them in olive oil (the fish were getting their own little hamam experience), and placing them in the oven. After 25 minutes or so, they came out tasting perfect. I was longing for a home cooked meal (which is ridiculous if you've had my Mom's cooking. I'm not saying she's a lackluster cook, but the options are limited. She sometimes gets a tad overzealous, and creates a storm of a casserole, or something that wasn't supposed to be a casserole but became a casserole. But actually, she makes a hell of a macaroni and cheese, and her sautéed veggies are unbelievable. If you're reading this, Mom, I love you and your cooking. Don't pay any attention to this. You're a great cook), and this hit the spot.

But just as enthralling as the fish was the town and all it had to offer. My friend is a lucky guy, living in Balikesir. I won't say a word about his apartment, except that it was pristine. And the numerous cafe/bars, shops, markets, and mall stores were enough to put any consumer American at ease. Balikesir was about as sweet as the rice pudding I devoured on my final night there. Inshallah, I'll be back sooner than later.

As for Bilecik, the University gladly accepted my suggestion to live in town and promptly moved me back to the original hotel I've been staying at. I'm at the hotel indefinitely, though I've met an English teacher looking for a housemate in town. That may be a possibility, depending. This English teacher is associated with a private English-teaching firm that has expressed interest in having me work. I'm currently working 20 hours, and may take up that opportunity. It may be wise to do so, especially if I'm thinking of summer work teaching English in, say, Istanbul.

My Turkish is coming along slowly but steadily. If only my memory were sharp. I am finding, however, that I'm able to identify individual words and suffixes in sentences, and that's the first step I think, so things are looking up! For now, I'm just going to kick back, respond to some e-mails, read a little Zinn, and hit the hay. Love and miss you all.

Uh oh

In the midst of all this hectic paperwork for my pending residency permit, bank account, and whatnot, I was abruptly moved to an isolated location on the outskirts of Bilecik University. I am all by myself in a guest house of sorts, miles from town, surrounded by stumpy trees, and without internet (I'm currently at a cafe). So while I describe my new living arraignment, I'm simultaneously establishing the ideal setting for a horror flick. I'll try not to think on that further..

And so my efforts for the next few days will be spent trying to get out of that housing situation and hopefully finding a suitable place closer to town. Frankly, it doesn't even need to be "suitable," it just needs to be "closer."

Besides that, I'm doing just fine. I've become a "regular" at a few local cafes and I'm learning the streets better each day. This weekend I had the pleasure of sleeping in until 11:00 and further exploring the town at my leisure. It felt like one giant Coca-Cola commercial as I passed kids playing soccer on the streets, little old men in little old houses, and rambunctious feral cats. The only thing missing was an actual bottle of Coke. I made the juvenile mistake of closely approaching a large mosque at prayer time. My eardrums payed the price as the wall to prayer swept across the mountainous landscape. The echoing bellows bounced around for quite awhile before being swallowed up by the air. As the prayer faded out, the sounds of military exercises in the distance stole any sense of silence. I marched back down the steep streets and enjoyed a Turkish culinary special, lahmacun, at an undiscovered little restaurant. Lahmacun is what you might expect to be Turkish pizza: cheap, crispy, meaty, and filling. It's best with lettuce, pickled cabbage, and fresh squeezed lemon juice over the top.

I make sure to keep everyone updated on my housing. Even if you don't particularly care, I need to get it off my chest. Environment is so very important.

I've enjoyed getting lost in this blog for awhile. Back to reality and, soon, my isolated-beyond-belief guest house. You couldn't find me with a satellite. Miss you all! Goodnight.

Images of Bilecik

Hello's and Goodbye's

As I teach my students proper greetings and goodbye's, I thought I'd divulge an element of Turkish culture I have yet to grow accustomed to: the old faux-double-kiss-on-the-cheek. I believe you know what I refer to. And although it's common here, I feel caught off-guard every time someone "leans-in." In a few weeks I'm sure I'll get the hang of it, but I haven't mastered the transition from smile to handshake to (complete transition of the hands) cheek-tap, not to mention the timing, which has resulted in some awkward lingering just centimeters from the face of a colleague or a student.

On a less uncomfortable note, I've been spending a good amount of time acquainting myself with the city. I appreciate seeing some of the same faces every day, and although we won't speak the same language, their presence is comforting and helps me feel less alone. The family-owned restaurant I regularly eat at, the cafe down the road, and the lobby of my hotel are comfortable spots I'm feeling increasingly familiar with. Right now, in fact, I'm at a favorite cafe (Khaverengi, which also means 'brown') that seems popular with the university crowd. I usually find a table by myself, work on lesson plans, determine future plans, edit writing samples, and compose blog entries. The stares of most people haven't ceased, but it's provoked a few good people to introduce themselves. Their limited English and my limited Turkish make matters a little tough, but if you can flash a few smiles at just the right time everything seems to work out just fine.

Also, I'm starting to get acquainted with the various personalities at the University. I can't help but smile when I run across the Turkish version of a friend back home. That's happened quite a bit and it's always a joy, not simply because it's funny, but because it's nice to keep friends in mind. I've even been compelled to defend my thesis to a colleague in the Economics department. For those unfamiliar, it was a comparative study of democratization in Egypt and Turkey, and I'm glad for the input and the criticism. It's revealed to me the limits of academic research from outside the environment I've studied.

That's it for the time being. I'll head back to my hotel, watch an episode of 30 Rock, and hit the hay. I'm thinking of a trip to Izmir. We'll see. Goodnight.

A Cafe in Bursa

BURSA

This past weekend, I took a brief trip to Bursa where I met up with a fellow Fulbrighter and sought out adventures. I must say how fortunate I am to be located in Bilecik, which is close to so many points of interest, Bursa being one of them. Unlike the town of Bilecik, Bursa is a booming metropolis. It's famous for its role as the first capital of the Ottoman Empire, and in a more contemporary context, it's role as an important commercial center.

I can't say we toured any businesses, or got a sense of Bursa's business district, but we had ourselves a wonderful time exploring mosques, a bustling indoor/outdoor marketplace, and the most beautiful cafe area I've seen. I was recently informed that it's a remnant of the glorious silk-trading days, and functioned as a spot for the silk-merchants to mingle, deal, and compare silks (?). Today, it's home to four or five individual cafes, and provides the perfect place to sit, drink chai, and chat for hours in a tree-laden court yard of sorts.

But that wasn't the best part of my trip to Bursa. Oh no, not even close... The experience I'll likely never forget was dipping into my first Iskender Kebab - a disorganized amalgamation of bread, meat, tomato, yogurt, and butter sauce. Words can't describe... All I can say is that, should I find myself on death row some day, my final meal will be a heaping portion of Iskender Kebab with a side of lobster and maybe a slice of cheescake, or two, or three if I'm trying to eat myself to death before the guards do me in via lethal injection. The meal was outrageously decadent and cost a pretty penny too (we were told our restaurant was the place that invented the stuff way back in the mid nineteen-hundreds). It was easily worth it, however.

I really can't neglect how beautiful this country is. Bursa itself is a city partially on the slope of a mountain. It's characterized by old, multi-colored Ottoman houses that just scream foreign romance film. I've heard the region is popular for its skiing, and I can believe it. The mountains are prominent and powerful. A skiers paradise, really.

Bursa was a blast. My friend and I took a quick look around their famed shopping plaza, Zafer Plaza, complete with giant blue pyramid indicative of a project with more money than they know what to do with. The mall was nice - I mean really nice. I resisted a trip to their Starbucks - a nicer Starbucks than any I've seen in the States.

That's all for now. I'm running on empty after a long day of teaching. I believe my students (all 180-200 of them) have been having fun. Stay tuned.