Istanbul

Ankara'ya

I just returned from the Fulbright mid-year meeting, which played out more like a motion picture than some dull, polite, check-up from the organization. As a few of my colleagues noticed in retrospect, the meeting served as an appropriate case-study for examining the program at least up until now. Every ETA was to give a 5 minute presentation on their experience. For some, 5 minutes only provided enough time to forewarn listeners of the host of logistical, cultural, political issues they've confronted during their stay. Therefore, the meeting had to sacrafice key segments for lack of time. Typical. For the most part, people's experiences were positive. For a few too many, however, their Fulbright year has been rife with stressful issues surrounding housing, payment, and the like. The program has, at times, dropped the ball. But we were frequently reminded that our experience - in particular - being the first year of an expanded program - was different than any other ETA experience in the world. We, unlike so many, have been placed in relatively undeveloped towns and cities throughout Turkey. You will not, for instance, find Bilecik, Karabuk, Osmaniye, Kars, or Duzce in your Turkish guide book. And though I feel awful for some of my colleagues who have had experiences more akin to the Peace Corp than Fulbright, I'm genuinely grateful for the opportunity to live - to completely saturate myself - in small-town Turkey. As I've said, Bilecik is very Turkish. Cultural milieu's are pronounced and pervasive, and although I embarrass myself nearly every day in my chronic struggles with the language and the customs, I'm having an experience well worth the sacrifice. I take the vision and the mission of the program very seriously, even if many townsfolk, students, and colleagues can't fathom why I'm here. I am part of a very important idea - one that places face-to-face diplomacy and education ahead of bureaucratic jargon, economic trade-negotiations, sanctions, or warfare. I am an American in Bilecik, Turkey exposed to all the privileges and shortcomings that my identity provides.

We stayed at the Ankara Hilton, which is somewhat regrettable when I realize that I won't likely stay in a Hilton anytime soon. I've reached my peak, folks, and I'm only 22. I closed my eyes for a few moments during the divine and complementary Turkish breakfast just to soak in the moment. The olives, the fruits and nuts, the breads, and the fresh juices were all too much to handle. I have a slight feeling that this program is setting unfair expectations for the futures of its participants. And no kidding, meeting Ambassador Ricciardone revealed that he too was a Fulbright ETA in Italy. His experience as you might imagine was quite different, but according to his testimony, it allowed him to really internalize what it is to see the US from an outsiders perspective. I echo his sentiment of a greater appreciation for the US while also understanding on a more personal level how our actions effect the lives/perceptions/sensibilities of others. This, in turn, compels us to be more inquisitive and perhaps more critical of what we do. It's an understanding I will take with me wherever I go in life. Empathy is an especially important intellectual and emotional register that inevitably dissolves a certain blind bliss, but also brings you so much closer to other people.

More on the Hilton later. It really was awesome.

Goodnight.

Monday

Happy Monday readers! There's nothing like the fresh feeling of starting a new work week. Now before I continue, you should understand that I care deeply for my students. I wish them the greatest amount of success and happiness, and long to contribute to that. With a dodgy sense of the English language, however, the gap between what's said and what's meant is often wide.

That's why, when a student today suggested I "should come to bed," I nearly lost it. The class quickly caught on, and ignited in hysterical anarchy. There was a violent volley of exuberant high-fives, heads buried in each others' arms, a loss of humanity amongst my most serious and devoted disciples. While the young men nearly foamed at the mouth, and the women choked on air, I did my best to calm them down. I believe in leading by example, and so I stood erect (too soon?), hanging onto a calm expression with all I had. And lost it again. Sometimes you've just gotta devote a hearty 10 minutes of class time to laughter. I'm justified because I make my own rules here.

I don't feel all that bad about the student and his overzealous invitation. I struggle each and every day with a language I've only been exposed to for a matter of months. I find myself combining the most unnaturally designed combinations of words, and rely way too much on certain words. For all I know, I've answered "very beautiful" to questions regarding the most heinous things. It's a wonder I'm able to convey basic ideas. It's a wonder people sometimes take me seriously.

That's all for now. The stares at the cafe I frequent are burning through me. It's not animosity, or appreciation even. It's simply that in rural Turkey, there aren't many foreigners. And by "not many," I mean that there aren't any. At all. I'm it - the village foreigner with the charming smile. Time to get back to it.

I miss you all deeply. More to come soon.

Suleimaniye Camii

Istanbul is Rather Nice

I finally managed to escape sleepy Bilecik and spend some more time in Istanbul with a friend who lives in the lovely neighborhood of Beskitas. I've come to know my way around the city quite well, and as I explore deeper and gain a sense of familiarity with my surroundings, certain spots reveal a once-concealed charm. Beskitas is among them, with its cobble-stone streets and buzzing fish market, where cats congregate in hopes of a fresh meal and for general recreation. The dog population of Beskitas is evolved. They are by no means going hungry, and they're particularly adept at getting from place to place without causing trouble. Their motions are deliberate, as if they've got an important meeting to attend, or as if they've simply routinized their day. They carry themselves with poise, never stooping to sniff the ground and they enjoy the company of people, choosing to idly share their company if not running late for something.

Besiktas moreover rests on the water, with ferry boats frequently floating across the Bosphorous to Kadakoy, on the Asian side. Simply sitting by the water with a chai and some good company is enough for a memorable afternoon. There's something about sitting by the Bosphorous. The relentless, unexpected gusts of wind, the salty air, the layers of history lying literally beneath your feet, or to your left or right. The cities historic landmarks bleed naturally into the cityscape. They're not unnaturally highlighted for a lucrative tourist industry. Rather, church ruins lean lazily into ancient palaces, bank buildings, or active mosques, themselves over 600 years old.

Bilecik itself has the trappings of ruins of conquerers and past empires. Minarets of old mosques destroyed by the Greeks lie tattered, but standing, near the center of town. On my walk to the Business Administration Faculty, where I teach more frequently this semester, what seem to be old stone fences or barriers wind themselves up and around a large hill.

Some changes to Bilecik have occurred over the past month and a half. It took me a few days to notice the brand new TurkCell store that opened up near my bank. This is Bilecik's third TurkCell store, and I wonder how many are to come. I'm reminded of Greenfield's absurd number of fast food restaurants. I don't include Dunkin' Donuts in that category, because there is always need and appreciation for more of those. But TurkCell seems to be wanting to take over things around here. It's a fascinating company, and I'm slightly threatened by their powerful allure. Their color scheme, orange and blue, is enough to rope any sucker into a more expensive cell phone plan. I'm dropping Turkish Lira like its hot.

One thing hasn't changed in Bilecik. I still sometimes feel like a zoo animal. The stares are comically frequent and deliberate and long. My students, at least, need lessons in what it means to be discreet. And maybe I'll teach them. I am the teacher, after all. Alas, I am being observed carefully as I type. No sudden movements or my stalkers heads might explode. I don't have major self-esteem issues, but this is getting to be a bit much. I know I'm handsome, but I'm a few push-ups and hair gel dabs away from Brad Pitt, ya know?

Sultanahmet Camii in the Evening

Annnd They're Back!

The students have arrived. My routine is beginning to take shape once again, and this is helpful. I've been having fun creating unique lesson plans that are hopefully exciting and memorable for the students. At times though, I've found myself compromising a full-fledged smile for a stern look and a few moments of unspoken condemnation. In general, however, I'm flattered by the appreciation and warmth shown by my students. They understand that I'm a normal 22 year old, with the same humor and the same exuberance.

Having taken over a few new classes, I've confronted students far behind the class material I taught last semester. It's frustrating mainly because I realize it's no fault of the students. Some of them have simply been left behind by instructors who don't care. I've truly inherited a sense of what it takes to be a good teacher, and for the record, I think I'm a good one.

So much of being an effective teacher is establishing a culture of confidence amongst students. I don't shy away from humor, and I do my best to keep the classroom environment light albeit focused. But enough of that.

While the last number of days were spent in a sort of suppressive haze, birthed from somewhere inside, today was different. The liberating effect of routine kicked in. I donned my new suit, my modern-day suit-of-armor, and tore threw my classes with grace. This weekend, I travel to the most beautiful city in the world to walk along the Bosphorous, smell the salty air, and feel the buzz of the Grand Bazaar, or nighttime in Besiktas, Istiklal, or Beyoglu.

As always, feel free to stay in touch.

Refugee by the Sea (Lake Iznik)

Shenanigans in North-Western Turkey

Before I forget.. my friend from Egypt and I visited Iznik as part of our tour of NorthWestern Anatolia. Iznik, known by Christians as Nicea, was a quiet, subdued town on the edge of a great lake. It was peaceful, insanely historic, and surprisingly close to my very own hometown of Bilecik.

Places like Iznik (Nicea) make Turkey such a treat. Here we find a small Turkish town, devoid of the trappings of touristy glits and glam that come to encompass parts of Istanbul, the Aegean coast, and areas to the Mediterranean South. It was authentically Turkish in its quiet, gentle disposition, only it, as my friend aptly declared "pooped out artifacts" in insane quantity. Not only were we able to enter the Aya Sofya Church, where the ancient Christian Nicean Council essentially established the Christian doctrine, but we walked through passageways and overhangs inscribed with ancient Roman text. We stumbled upon an ancient amphitheater where we found the only other tourists we'd seen all day. It was marvelous.

Besides nearly firebombing my lungs (we smoked cigars on the lakefront), it was a tremendous day and the perfect capstone to a series of adventures. An uncorrupted, small Turkish town of the most incredible historical/religious significance! Who knew? Just another day in Turkey, I guess.

And this time, I'm serious. Goodnight!

Classes begin... sort of...

The week really took it's time coming to end, unfortunately sliding into an even slower, more mundane weekend. After fending of illness, I was excited to begin classes. I looked forward to meeting my new students. Even the classroom changes had me walking with an extra bounce in my step. But alas, while classes have indeed started, the students have not.

It was a long week, then. I would visit my empty classrooms and walk around a bit before walking out the door and back to my office or my flat. I tried to make myself busy by doing taxes, running, hoping from cafe to cafe, or trying to count the dust particles on my shoes. I read online today that Gene Hackman played the voice of Nuclear Man in the 1987 film, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. I also learned that too much incense can cause cancer of the respiratory tract, similarly to too much of anything. I tore through a fair amount of a book I've been reading, and wanted to go exploring Bilecik a bit more, but my legs were drained from the morning run. And left to my own devices, my mind creeps, and slips and slides around, lingering on the bad spots. When I'm bored, I'm bothered, melancholy, and all-together anxious.

So I'm going on a day-trip tomorrow. I'm going to Eskisehir to walk along the canal, relax at Khave Dunyasi, hopefully find a park to look at. Next weekend? Istanbul. I always have things to look forward too, and I'm fortunate for that.

I could be suffering from vacation withdrawal - a very real possibility considering the stimulation, excitement, and insanity of what I've confronted and witnessed this past month. Home was beautiful to see. It was beautiful to see my parents, my beloved dog Otis, and those closest to me. And of course, Cairo.

Or, maybe, it's the empathy I'm feeling for those confronting difficult times and events in their lives. It hasn't been one instance this week of something gone wrong, it's been several, and my heart devotedly extends to the people in my life in tough times. We all go through 'em, that's for certain.

Now it's time for my students to get over whatever's ailing them and show up next week. If you're a student of mine, and you're reading this, come to class. Come to class because I love teaching and I need something to do.

Finally, I've been saving the latest episode of 'MadMen' for tonight. I'm suped. What a show!!

Goodnight all! Stay in touch and keep it real.

As I write this, CNN and all of the major networks are announcing Mubarak's resignation. And despite having been relieved to get out safe and sound, part of me wishes I was back there where the electricity and the promise of change buzzed, sparked, and cracked. Egypt is free!

Demonstrations in Tahrir

February 8th

I needed a few days to unwind, and unwind I did. From the mayhem of mid-Revolution Cairo, I caught the emergency flight to Istanbul where I stayed in a dirt-cheap (but not at all unpleasant) hostel for a few nights before my friend doing a Fulbright in Egypt arrived. Prior to his arrival, I did very little but to catch my breathe. I slept as much as I could, missing breakfast for three consecutive days, before leisurely showering and sidestepping crowds of tourists on my way to a cafe in Sultanahmet. There I read articles, analysis, and watched interviews concerning the goings-on in Egypt. The first night, I treated myself to a nice dinner as a way to unwind. A good meal always has a way of steadying the mind.

By the time my refugee Fulbright friend arrived, I was glad to entertain. We moved my bags down the street to another hostel, where we made plans to see the major sights of Istanbul in a short two days. We would then head down to sleepy Bilecik to explore the surrounding area. It was nice having my first official visitor, despite the unexpected circumstances. We toured the city quickly, then hoped a bus south. We visited Bursa, then Iznik, before he had to head back to Istanbul for a Wednesday flight to the states. Given the situation in Egypt, the Fulbright program there said they would contact him in no less than 30 days with a definitive answer as to whether the program would continue.

I'm still following the events in Egypt with great interest. I'm dismayed by the US approach as they try to walk a tight-rope between appeasing long-time ally Mubarak and asserting their supposed principles. Any support of recently-appointed Vice President Suleiman seems suspect, especially given his suggestion that Egypt is not yet ready for democracy. The likelihood of a religiously-motivated political movement exploiting the power vacuum seems unlikely. We're talking about the Muslim Brotherhood here, not the Iranian clerics. The MB's embrace of democratic principles and more progressive positions of controversial social issues have maintained their popularity and their viability, and in such a political situation, I can't see them turning back on those values. Their tactful pragmatism has allowed them to survive the most pressing and uncertain circumstances, and they're not about to throw that all away. As has been mentioned, these demonstrations were ignited by the young, the educated, and the secular. But what's kept the fire ablaze have been the contributions and support of all fragments of society, from the Islamists to the communists. So while Suleiman spouts fire, the millions protesting have other thoughts. From what I've been reading, protestors in Tahrir are not moving. They are overcome with the feverishness of hope in the wake of long-suppressed freedom and opportunity. Regardless of what sort of political reality takes shape, Egypt has changed. Mubarak will be gone, hopefully sooner than later.

Most recently, I ran into a bout of sickness. After 48 hours of hibernation, my heads a little steadier and the legs a little less wobbly. I polished off an orange and some tomatoes, and am back on my way to feeling great. Classes have resumes, although the students have taken it upon themselves to prolong vacation for another week. It is what it is. I'll see them soon enough.

A day at a time, my friends. Stay in touch.