Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Bureaucracy v. What I'll Miss

I swam through the murky, muddy waters of Turkish bureaucracy today, in a desperate attempt to get permission to visit the States in January. I got somewhat tangled in the insanity of it all - the arbitrary rules, the megalomaniac personalities, the darned language barrier which (perhaps fortunately) prevented me from expressing myself fully. But, as it goes, everything seemed to work out. Some tactful moves, a few stern statements, and a mostly level head pushed me through and saw that I got what was needed. In conclusion, I netted the deal. I'll be home January 14th through the 24th, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

I miss home - I really do - and a nice break to refocus the mind and the spirit ought to do me well. I'm half expecting a tea withdrawal as my daily intake is abruptly compromised from, say, 5 cups a day to 1 (maybe?). It'll also be quite strange to be in the presence of English speakers and non-smokers. I could go for a burger, too, but its not a worthy substitute for Turkish cuisine.

I've found myself recently surprised at how normal my surroundings have become. The call to prayer doesn't phase me as it did when I arrived (this happened in Cairo, too), and the idiosyncrasies of Turkish lifestyle are payed without heed. I know that when I leave for a longer amount of time, I will miss Turkey deeply. Yes, I'm happy to come home for this much needed break, but considering my more permanent departure is a deeply sad thought. When I'm feeling stressed and out-of-place, I need only pause for a sec and consider how lucky I am. To be greeted by the old minarets at the end of my street when I leave my flat in the morning, and to hear the streets awash with the call to prayer as the sun sets over the mountains. I know these are things I'll never expereince in the same capacity come June, and I yearn to hold onto a solid memory. It's kindling for future nostalgia, yessiree.

I'll leave you with an awesome final sentence. This weekend I'll celebrate the New Year in Istanbul.


Sunday, December 26, 2010

Sultanahmet, Istanbul

Christmas of the Most Turkish Kind

Celebrated Christmas this past weekend with a few Fulbrighters and some anonymous Europeans. Not one of the more traditional Christmas's I've had, but it was well put together and very thoughtful. We baked cookies galore, listened to Christmas music, and wore sweaters and hugs to maintain the holiday cheer. And when the wine began to pour, our spirits brightened a bit more to boot.

It was certainly a special time, and a Christmas not to be forgotten. The 'Yankee Swap' game we played with the Europeans was a hoot. There were a fair share of gag gifts interspersed with more thoughtful and generous donations, and about half of us walked away presents worth keeping, but all of us shared in the gift of laughter.

Returning to Bilecik felt a little more lonely this time. Perhaps it was a combination of a few things (exhaustion, preparing to confront another work week), but I heard the sound of my own footsteps louder than ever tonight. I felt the stares a little more cooly than normal. I'm looking forward to visiting the States again in a few weeks. It'll be nice to catch up with friends and family, especially soon after the holidays.

Next weekend will be spent in Istanbul. New Years in Istanbul. The thought alone makes my heart skip a beat.

Night ya'll.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Staying with the Times

Before arriving in Turkey, I viewed my journey as an opportunity to sink deep into Turkish culture. This meant, in part, detaching myself from the New York Times and American media sources and supplanting them with Hurriyet and Turkish media. I've sought to do the same with Pop culture (Atiye's "Dondurma" is a current favorite), food (which ain't hard), and general living habits.

But at the same time, I've grown much closer to the more tasteful US television series'. I watched the grand finale of 'The Wire' last night, and was simply blown away. Now of course I'm at a loss. I read fairly often, but sitting down to a good television program before bed as a means of unwinding is precious. It also helps alleviate the sometimes overbearing stress of culture shock by transporting me back to the good ole' USA (although Baltimore as depicted in 'The Wire' may not be a top choice of mine). A refreshing half-hour or so of American idiosyncrasies serves me well.

Every Tuesday I walk by at least 3 corn vendors. These corny little corn kiosks charge 1 TL for a cup of corn, buttered and salted, although the options for corn toppings don't stop there. YOU CAN REALLY MAKE A MESS OF YOUR CORN, LET ME TELL YOU! I'm not sure exactly how nutritious these cups of corn are, and I'm suspicious of their capacity to provide a solid source of vitamins and nutrients, but they're damn tasty and sure do beat out, say, a bag of chips.

As I stopped at the corn vendor nearest to campus, I finally graduated my "Turkce komusmiyorum" (I don't speak Turkish) go-to phrase, and instead used a new favorite: "Turkce az biliyorum" (I understand a little Turkish). I'm proud of myself, and look forward to saying it hundreds of more times before I finally get around to something like, "I can sometimes understand what you're saying, but often not. Please be patient as I sort through my dictionary in search of the most appropriate word for this situation. Thank you." Inshallah, I'll get there.

Iyi aksamlar.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Bosphorus Sunset

Suits and such..

I was apparently starved of fiction when I picked up Capote's "Breakfast at Tiffany's" this weekend in Eskisehir. Books in English are tough to come by unless you venture into the big city. I was lucky enough to pick Capote on a whim, because I discovered that the story was tremendous, and its message pertinent. I took away both the uneasiness and anxiety of settling down in a world so open and captivating, and the paradoxical rest-assured importance of presence. It was a serendipitous find.

I'm incredibly thankful that Christmas will be spent with a few colleagues/friends in Balikesir - a town I've mentioned a few times by now. We're planning a gift swap, which means I need to purchase a gift, which I find somewhat disagreeable because I know it's going to be an endeavor. I'm too fickle to buy gifts (or anything for that matter) even though its the right thing to do and it makes me feel great. I planned to buy a suit while over here (Turkey is the land of suits), and it's been months combing through different hues of colors, sizes, styles. I've narrowed the field down to a few hundred shades of grey and blue and bluish-grey. Something to showcase my blue eyes, and something that makes me look distinguished in a rightful, moral way. I don't want a flashy suit. The fit matters, too. Not too big, not too small, naturally.

I'll let you know in a few months how the search is progressing. Expect very little of it.

All is well. Stay in touch.




Sunday, December 19, 2010

Thursday Morning Class

Thoughts Whilst on the Speed-Train

I can see it when the travel to cities like Bursa and Ankara - cities that only a few decades ago were smaller, far less developed. I happen to use Bursa and Ankara as examples because they're my most recent destinations, but also because of their commercial enterprise which is impressive by any standard. Bursa's Ataturk Caddesi is lined with bustling businesses and a gigantic shopping mall with its signature Blue Pyramid. Zafer Plaza is actually as nice of a mall as I've ever been to. The Turkish version of Starbucks, Khave Dunyasi, stands to compete with Starbucks, located a mere floor above. On the top floor is a food court with just about any US chain you could ask for. No wonder many view globalization as Westernization, or more specifically, Americanization. But for the record, I'll take Khave Dunyasi over Starbucks any day.

I visited Ankara just this weekend, and reconnected with a high school classmate of mine I only recently discovered to be there. We got a bite to eat and trounced around the trendy, happenin neighborhood of Kizilay with its abundance of bars, shops, and kokorec (sheep intestine) vendors. It had been a few months since I'd been there last for Fulbright orientation.

On the bullet-train from Eskisehir to Ankara and back, I couldn't help but consider how significant Turkey is becoming. With the second fasting growing economy in the world, a fierce sense of nationalism, and a liberalizing political trajectory (I said 'trajectory,' not to be confused with current political reality), Turkey is indeed an emerging power. It's ability to embrace the Western nations without dissolving its ties to the Middle East aid well in its economic and political development. This is one reason I hope to get some Turkish under my belt. The potential for an influential Turkey is great as indicated by Obama's frequent references of general support for the country. WikiLeaks got in the way a bit, but I can't honestly belief what was divulged was by any means a surprise.

Christmas is coming soon! I'm again headed to Balikesir to celebrate with wonderful friends. Let there be Christmas lights, freshly baked cookies, and tunes to abet the occasion.

Stille Nacht, from the other side of the world.

Be back soon, inshallah.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Aya Sofya: Mosaic of Jesus Christ

The New Year's Tree

I taught Christmas to a receptive group of students this week, and learned that the Turks have sabotaged nearly all of our Christmas traditions for their New Year's celebration. I taught them about the Christmas tree, which I've learned is their New Year's tree. I said, "We put gifts under the Christmas tree for our loved ones on Christmas." Their response: "We put gifts under the New Year's tree for our loved ones on New Years." Frustrating, isn't it?

Now to be clear, this isn't some mind-blowing coincidence. These traditions did not evolve independently of one another, and as far as I'm concerned, we had them first. Now I know I'm supposed to be bridging the cultural divided here, but at what point does cultural understanding give way to criminal complacency? Maybe I'm overreacting.

A few of our Christmas traditions have yet to be imported. The mistletoe is a baffling tradition, as is the Nativity scene, as you may imagine. But I was happy to have a receptive audience throughout my entire presentation. I played some Christmas music to boot, which they enjoyed. Although it's not like celebrating the holidays at home, I'm fortunate to be able to share my passion. If little else, my students understood the values promoted this time of year: goodwill, charity, compassion, and peace. Their head nods told me so.

With Christmas coming soon, I'm planning a trip to Iznik or modern-day Nicea. In Christianity, Nicea is known as the site of the First and Second Councils of Nicea, the first and seventh Ecumenical Councils, and the Nicene Creed where the doctrine of the Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost) was established. Such history translates into Nicea being one of the most important historical citied in all of Christianity. I'm looking forward to spending time there.

From what I've heard, Iznik is quaint, and is said to take only a day to explore. It lays next to a lake with a number of small cafes and restaurants making it a preferred summer destination for Istanbulites seeking some R&R.

So those are my plans thus far! I'll keep you updated. Love and miss you all.

Take Care.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Street in Bilecik

Lesson Planning Under the Watchful Eyes of a Stranger...

Modals are scheduled for tomorrow. Don't ask me what they are, I only learned about them a few moments ago, but by 4:00 tomorrow, I'll be Master of Modals, Sire of the Shall's and Should's, King of Can and Could. Lesson planning really means simply staying one step ahead of your students. It's an art devoted to anticipation. I enjoy it.

So while the teaching is a pleasure, other aspects of my Fulbright experience can't measure up. Being an American in a small Turkish town is strange, odd, exciting, compelling, and often frustrating, especially when you're used to being anonymous.

As a somewhat private person, the chronic staring has taken its toll. My work isn't quite as enjoyable under the watchful stare of groups of friends in the dimly lit cafe. I can't get over the aggressive, or suspicious, looks of men on the sidewalk. Most people meet my gestures with smiles, but those that don't make their presence felt, and it can be heartbreaking. I can't blame them for not understanding why it is I'm here. It's like seeing an elephant in a herd of bison. Some bison will be excited to meet the elephant. Others prefer bison. I can't necessarily communicate my mission to everyone at the University, or in the town itself. And its for that very reason that I need to continue to be aware of the reason I am here. Cultural understanding is sometimes a difficult thing to cultivate, but I need to press on.

I must acknowledge that I won't bleed into society. My appearance, my mannerisms prevent that. I bear the burden of an outsider. Amongst those who appreciate my presence, I'm more of a novelty (the elephant can do tricks). But what I would do to be a normal person on the streets of Bilecik.

Soon enough, I'm hopeful my presence won't cause quite a stir. The sooner I learn the language, the customs, the culture, the sooner things are bound to fall into place. A few more sojourns to the corn stand down the road, and the corn stand man will understand that I like my corn just like everyone else likes their corn. Just because I'm American doesn't mean you need to inundate my cup of corn with chocolate sauce, sir.

Stay in touch. Send me e-mails, facebook messages, the like. Miss ya'll.

Goodnight.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Turkish Coffee in Ortakoy

Wednesday's in Bilecik

Wednesday’s are weird. I wake up earlier than sin for class at 8:00 and teach through to 12:00. I don’t teach again until 8:20, and that’s only for a 45 minute session. Not a bad afternoon, then. I nap, e-mail, and nosy around the Internet for future job and school opportunities. I catch up on errands, which always takes an unexpectedly long time. That last sentence may not have made sense to you, but it makes sense to me. Trust.

I traversed to the nearest TurkCell store hoping to exchange large amounts of money for inadequate services and an inevitable gauntlet of inconveniences. TurkCell is Turkey’s premier cell phone service provider, and I am their victim. I have remained a loyal victim since my arrival and I don’t intend to stop. I like their orange and blue logo, and despite not having to pay to see it, I do anyway. But I digress…

I needed minutes for my phone, and that’s all. A half hour later, I’m chatting it up with the TurkCell employees, tea in hand, minutes nowhere to be found. Forty-five minutes later, my Turkish and my tea has run out. They’re finally getting around to the minutes, and when they do, I realize I need a blank CD (my colleague wants American music). Twenty minutes later, I leave TurkCell with everything I need minus a few Lira.

If nothing else, such experiences have taught me to leave my pride at the door. After all, my level of pride freshman year of college should last me through a few decades. I’ve chilled out… I stumble through broken Turkish, looking up words, and trying to substitute “confused” with “sexy.” Today was fun because I finally broke free of any reservations I’ve had with the language. I laughed, pointed, danced (interpretively), jumped, yelled, and swayed to get my point across. By the end, I wonder if the employees learned more about musical theatre than my desire for a blank CD. Probably. And in the midst of it, I felt like shouting: “All American’s are like this!,” but I didn’t.

I’ve realized singing “I’ll be Home for Christmas” doesn’t help.

I’ll try to teach Christmas without being accused of proselytizing.

Wish me luck. Goodnight, readers.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The Blue Mosque in Istanbul

Hanukkah on the Black Sea

Last weekend I visited Duzce, a town nearly destroyed by the earthquakes in 1999 and 2000. Now, save for the farmland, nearly all of the buildings are new, stocky, sturdy, albeit relatively bland and standard. In general, the town lacked a certain charm I'm lucky to have at home in Bilecik. But my company was wonderful, and made even more special by a somewhat impromptu Hanukkah celebration. I learned about the Maccabees and their travails, and ate a delicious home-cooked meal of latkes, casserole, garlic bread, wine, and other goods. It sure filled me up right.

Because Duzce is so close, we were able to visit the Black Sea. Encountering new bodies of water has always been a cool experience for me. It has a way of orienting me, allowing me to comprehend how far away, or close to, certain places I am. On the other side of the Black Sea lies Russia. Does that make me qualified to run for President? I actually think it might.

Lately my head has been buzzing and I'm not sure why. It could be the nature of the holidays - the great emphasis on friends and family. This, in light of my absence, makes the holiday season especially acute, and so I ponder, weep, and write. But to get back on track, I’m devoting myself a bit more to learning the language. I’m on chapter 4 of my “Teach Yourself Turkish” book in pdf form, and I look forward to dropping a Turkish word or phrase in the middle of class, just to see the students’ faces light up.

Though I’ll be missing Christmas in America, and New Years’ too, Dad bought me ticket back for a number of days in January. I’m looking forward to it, but the complex and mixed emotional side effects of traveling back and forth are cumbersome. It’s a tease.

One aspect of my time here that I try not to overlook is my gratitude. Gratitude has a way of masking other emotions, and it’s a damn good thing to have. There are moments I pause for a moment and consider where I’d be otherwise. This journey is all about growth and self-exploration, and that I have the privilege to be a part of it is lovely.

So long for now. I’ll write sooner next time, and throw some pictures of Turkey your way. I’d appreciate an occasional e-mail, facebook post, anything. Onward and upward.