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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Istanbul Skyline from the Bosphorous

Turkcesi ne?

I realize it's been a few days since I've contributed to the blog, and I apologize for my absence. I have no excuse. I've been wasting a great deal of time for the first time in a few years. Class planning isn't as strenuous as cranking out papers or preparing for exams. And because much of my life in Turkey is still in flux (for instance, who the &%&$ is paying for my residence?), I've used it as a good excuse to remain stagnant. If I remain still, maybe the chronic, inevitable barrage of problems won't see me?It's as if I've been so violated by bureaucratic policy, I'm afraid to topple my delicate, vulnerable situation. I'm paralyzed with fear. At least the police haven't paid me a visit (the same can't be said for everyone in the program).

When convenient, I've gotten around to studying Turkish, which I employ in the classroom to get a rise out of my students. I hate class if it's boring, so I employ broken Turkish to maintain their attention. They LOVE it. And I swear, if I were to ask for anything in Turkish, I'm 75% more likely to receive it. Not because they don't understand my English, but because they can identify with abandoning their linguistic comfort zones. They appreciate my efforts just as I appreciate theirs.

This weekend I celebrated Thanksgiving with some Fulbrighters in Balikesir (literally 'Fish City'). I realized, too, just how much I have to be thankful for. In the absence of family and close friends, I realize just how important they are and how much I truly love them. "For that which you love most in (friends and family) may be clearer in (their) absence, as the mountains to the climber is clearer from the plain," to quote Khalil Gibrain. I am especially thankful for my father's health. Thank God for him - the rock of my life.

The event was good. Good food, good people, and hearty adventures. As for this weekend? I'm planning on visiting Duzce - a town north of Bilecik near the Black Sea coast. Exploring new places is an important part of my life. I feel a sense of ease in the chaos. That's love.

I hope you are well well back in the States! Stay in touch, ya'll.

View off of Prince's Island

The Good, the Bad, and the Mundane..

I got back to Bilecik before the beginning of this week, began the work week, and BLAM, was assaulted by an overwhelming mix of stubborn Turkish bureaucracy, language barrier anxiety, nostalgia, and uneasiness. Being abroad is special - truly special, however I felt myself losing sight of its magic, its appeal in a more dramatic way than expected. A few meditations later, I've pulled it together but that was a scary few days. It's required a step back, wide-lens review of my purpose, my goals, and my responsibilities. But everything happens for a reason, right? More of a coping mechanism than a life philosophy, I'd say, but the intention is good.

But, as promised, a few words on Prince's Island: A spectacular destination off the Bosphorous, about 45 mins by boat from Istanbul. My friends and I spent an entire day there, which included the boat ride in, followed by a seafood lunch, a bike ride around the island (the views were spectacular), and a couple drinks followed by nargile with a smaller group of comrades. I couldn't have asked for a better day and Prince's Island, characterized by an interesting assortment of mostly European architecture, and cliff-side views, is a favorite place of mine. It's a place I will return to, time and time again, well into my future to soak in the sun and to remind myself of what life is all about.

Tomorrow I sojourn to Balikesehir for an authentic American Thanksgiving meal. That was an optimistic last sentence, but we'll do our very best to find a turkey in Turkey for TurkeyDay. My focus for tomorrow's feast? The salad. Inshallah I find the ripest tomatoes this side of the Tigris, and the most luscious lettuce this side of Lebanon. Inshallah. Inshallah.

On a side note, I'm sitting in a cafe, in a somewhat secluded corner, avoiding the inquiring stares from students of mine who, I'm sure, find me wayyy more interesting than I actually am. A few students even gave thanks for me during the Thanksgiving lesson today. I'm comfortable being shrouded in a veil of secrecy, and I haven't awarded the students enough information to reveal my true nature. A few of them think I'm a spy, and that's awesome as far as I'm concerned.

I have much to be thankful for this holiday: a healthy Mom and Dad, the opportunity for self-reflection and world travel, exposure to others perspectives and beliefs, and some truly special friends.

Happy Thanksgiving ya'll

The Aya Sofia

A Clustercuss of Culture

I spent the last week in Istanbul with Fulbright friends, mostly from Turkey, but also from such far-reaching places as Oman and Dubai for the Bayram holiday. My stay in Istanbul, unlike last time, was substantial and yet I still feel I'm only peeling back the preliminary layers of its history, its mysteries, and its vibrant and seemingly amorphous culture. Its culture alludes and confuses me like the swarming tides of people saturating Istiklal Caddesi. In one store, you'll saunter through rows of pricey apparel, victim to the blare of sexually-explicit pop music before stumbling upon a smiling cashier in a veil. You'll hop to the adjacent store, and notice a tatted-up hipster perusing religious manuals and ancient text. It's intellectually maddening. It's alluring. It's fascinating.

What's more is the breath-taking display of architecture, reminiscent of more magical times (at least from our perspective) and the constant transfer of powers praying to make Constantinople or Istanbul an archetypal symbol of their grandeur. I was lucky to enter the Aya Sofya this time around. For those who are unaware, the Aya Sofya was originally a Greek Orthodox patriarchal basilica, later a Roman Catholic cathedral, and then, in 1453, it was converted to a mosque. It wasn't until 1934 that the cathedral was secularized and turned into a museum. Through it all, however, original mosaics of Jesus and various prophets remained. The mix of Christian and Islamic art, architecture, and religious artifact is an explicit display of the layers of Istanbul's history, and also, in an ironic sense, a reminder of the interwoven nature of the great religions and perhaps a visual representation of peaceful coexistence. I could have spent hours there.

Besides that, the highlight of my week was simply spending time with good people. More to come on my trip to Istanbul. I'm dying to say a few words about Prince's Island.

Miss you all.

If knowledge of mysteries come after emptiness of mind, that is

illumination of heart. - Rumi

Home for Dad's Surgery

Hi All:

I've spent the last week back in the States, tending to Craig after his major operation intended to reconstruct his abdomen after a series of invasive procedures. While this doesn't have much to do with my experience abroad, it's provided me a peek back into US culture from an alternative vantage point. Thrust back into the mayhem of US hyper-reality, I am. Everything seems so fast-paced, excessive, impersonal. But at the same time, it's nice to be home, even if for only a few moments.

Dad's surgery went well, and thank God for that. I don't want to detail the significance of the operation, but it saved his life. He's looking good right now, with a fair amount of color in his face and a cool ginger ale on the bedside table. He stood up today and went for a brief walk around the hallway, IV bag in tow. Overheard the nurses talking about mango-salsa and grilled salmon, and yelled at 'em for talking about food (he hasn't eaten solid food for a few days now). With his new six-pack abs and sympathetic countenance, he's scoring major points with the nurses.

I was very fortunate to have been able to come home for this. Dad is relieved, and that's all I can ask for. He's excited to return the favor and visit Turkey sometime in the Spring, when the weather is warmer and he's entirely healed. I can't wait. Now I have to work on getting Mom to visit too.

I head back to Istanbul for Bayram - a delicious nine-day holiday that's sure to be a good time. Some fellow Fulbrighters from the south of Turkey are making the excursion northward, so it will be wonderful seeing them for the week. I'd like to say something like, "Istanbul isn't ready for us," but it's survived countless invasions and I can't pretend to be any more imperial than the Romans.

Wishing you all the best.

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.

Bilecik, Turkey. My New Hometown.

Teaching, Teaching, Teaching.

Classes have started and I've been thrust into the world of teaching University. I have an astonishing number of students - upwards of 180 - who are bound to keep me on my toes. Luckily, despite all the rhetoric I've heard of students disliking English, they seem very enthusiastic and engaged. This is good given my emphasis on verbal communicative English. Now if only my Turkish would suddenly kick in, I'd be able to identify important questions and rude comments. As of now, however, I've encountered no problems. It's especially nice to see them outside of class, tossing me a wave from across the street, or issuing an enthusiastic handshake. The place I'm currently staying is in the center of town. I literally cannot be outside for more than 10 minutes before a student waves me town or tries to engage in some conversation. It's nice.

One unexpected reality is that the students are very new to speaking English. This does not necessarily mean, however, that they are unaccustomed to reading and writing English. From what I've gathered, students know grammar quite well. Speaking is simply a realm of language learning they haven't yet entered.

Walking about town and on campus is a hoot. The stares I acquire are enough to make anyone blush, especially a tall, fair-skinned, non-Turkish anomaly of a man. It's fair to say I could walk around Salt Lake City in fish nets, and a huge purple Willy-Wonka hat and inherit the same stares. I'll get used to being the foreigner, and by that time people will be over it. Go figure.

It's nice to have meet the people I work work directly with. They are younger ( in their 20s) and incredibly helpful. I am heavily indebted to their hospitality and resourcefulness. I'm sure I will grow close with them, and establish some meaningful relationships in this beautiful country.

At night, if I'm not lesson planning, I'm outside at a cafe reading and sipping tea. A few nights ago, I sat alone at the cafe nearest my hotel smoking nargile (hookah), drinking chai, and dipping into Orphan Pamluk's "My Name is Red." The call to prayer, what I missed dearly from my time in Cairo, rang out and saturated the streets. It's an indescribable feeling, hearing the call to prayer on such a night. A mix of wonder and peace - a feeling I truly appreciate. Everything seemed to slow down, and I absorbed the moment fully. It was good.

So I'm thinking I may slip downstairs and sit at a cafe for a bit now. I could go for some tea.

Bu-bye for now.

The Mausoleum

Bilecik, Turkey. My New Hometown.

The first part of my blog entry will be formatted similarly to a visa/mastercard advertisement. I feel it's an appropriate and direct portrayal of my first few days in Bilecik.

Cigarettes offered: 10

Cups of tea presented: 27

Compulsory tours of the town: 3

Handshakes: 13

Turkish Hospitality: priceless

Upon entry to Bilecik, I let out a long sigh of relief. My hopes were confirmed when I arrived at the bus station, took a look around, and noticed people, buildings, civilization. You see, I wasn't sure if a town of 45,000 meant dispersed farmland, or, as I've encountered, a small albeit bustling metropolis. For a town with so few people, this place is buzzing. And wonderfully enough, my guide person (a colleague at Bilecik University), showed me to a nice hotel for the next few days until an apartment is found. I have a small balcony that looks over onto a small park where people drink chai until late hours of the night.

One thing I'm wary of is the fact that few (very few) people speak english. My conversations, then, are limited for the time being. I find myself writing down new words frequently, and consulting the Turkish-English dictionary ad nauseam. The turkish word for car is 'araba' for all you inquisitive folks out there.

So despite getting a handle on my digs, I still have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow. I'll be picked up at 8:30 and driven to campus where I have an office with said colleague. I believe tomorrow is more devoted to logistical/administrative things than teaching, which is probably best.

But don't mind that... Turkish hospitality: what a wonderful thing! I've been treated like a King, and to fill you in, guests are traditionally treated as guests from God. I'm pleased to see the tradition lives. I'm apparently very interesting, and I've been inheriting a barrage of bewildered, or cautious, or warm stares from people around town. I feel, in a way, like a pet monkey. I see, I do, and that's how it works. Simple tasks, like saying "thank you" are met with silly smiles and rapid dialogue amongst friends. I'm toying with the idea of telling people I'm Matt Damon, and that I'm taking a year off of acting to teach english at Bilecik University. I'll let you know how that goes.

So now I'm back in my hotel room, absolutely exhausted. It's funny how the unfamiliar functions as an energy drain. It only hits you when you lay down, but it's effect is instant and nearly paralyzing. Goodnight all. Sleep well.

Off to Bilecik

I have to admit, I'm a little uneasy. I've planned my day up until I get off the bus from Ankara to Bilecik, but the vast unknown awaits. I imagine I'll be picked up from the station. That's what I've been told. But then what? I have no idea where I'll be living, what I'll be teaching, who I'll be teaching, whether English is a futile language in such a place, and most importantly, whether I'll find some souls to spend time time. Its daunting, considering all of this, but so be it.

Orientation in Ankara was wonderful. I met a ton of great friends who find themselves in similar situations. We'll support one another well, I know, and provide a couch to sleep on come travel time. Some of the areas of interest we've visited were wonderful. The mausoleum for example (resting place of Turkey's founder Kemal Ataturk) was exquisite and powerful, and the Kocatepe Mosque was breathtaking.

Well it's time to finish packing (again), say a prayer to whatever's out there in the cosmos, and hit the dusty trail. I'm sure there'll be more to say soon. Insha'allah I'll have internet connection enough to help me do that.

Night Off

Evenings for the past week and a half have been active. As a result, I'm fending off an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. Tonight, I finally decided to take a break and work on lesson plans, write a blog post, play with my new cell phone, and people watch instead off walking around the city of Ankara, frequenting cafes (nargile & chai!), and overwhelming myself at the seeming impossibility of learning the language. I suppose just being surrounded by the unfamiliar is exhausting enough. I rarely know what I'm getting myself into, and every expereince feels like a blind experiment. Am I entering a cafe, or some sleazy tattoo parlor? I typically don't know until either I'm approached with a menu, or a vibrating needle. Everyone is friendly, so either way I'll be taken care of.

Perhaps the most difficult thing to get used to is the constant barrage of staring city dwellers. Make no mistake, I look like an absolute American, which means I look very little like a Turk. My friends and I play celebrity night in and night out, engaging with the onlookers and embarrassing ourselves with our lack of Turkish language. It's fun, but I can feel it getting old. It'll be interesting to experience the gaze of onlookers in Bilecik, many of whom have never seen a strapping, handsome American gentlemen. In fact, many of them have never seen an American period, so I'll be an anomaly of sorts.

In all sincerity, I hope to quietly blend into society, make a few friends, and invest my energies in teaching and learning. I also hope to travel, and my list as of now includes destinations across Turkey's vast geography, and potential visits to Egypt, Lebanon, and elsewhere.

Wish me luck.

Orientation (and other things) in Ankara

So I find myself in Ankara, Turkey with very little sense of how to survive. I rely on the hospitality, warmth, and understanding of the Turks to guide me through my days here in central Anatolia. To be fair, however, the solid language skills of my roommate have helped immensely. It took me a few days to learn how to properly pronounce our hotel, Baskent Ogretmenevi. If you're trying to pronounce it, please stop. It sounds nothing like it's spelled in English.

My time in Turkey will be spend teaching English and introducing US culture to students at Bilecik University in the small city of Bilecik. The orientation has been useful at teaching us Fulbrighters basic pedagogical, cultural, and linguistic elements of Turkish culture. It is exhausting though, and because my jet-lag persisted, I've had a hard time making it through the day without a nap or two. I'm writing this with my eyes half shut right now.

I've had some unusual things happen to me, as seems to be the case with anyone entering a foreign land without knowledge of the language or the culture. The first involved a small elderly man in an elevator, who, without warning, reached out and grabbed my neck. It wasn't an aggressive thrust of the hand. He didn't try to take me down, Bruce Lee style. Instead, he quietly reached out and wistfully groped my throat. If the man wasn't so adorable I would have gone berserk. I was trying to piece together counter-attack maneuvers I remembered from taking karate as a little boy, or from Jason Bourne's collection of ass-whooping tangos, before making eye contact. So maybe, I thought, this was some sort of cultural practice. Do I gently reach out and touch his throat? Where would that leave us? Two men, grasping one anothers throats in perfect peace and harmony, bridging the gap between East and West? Is this all anyone has ever hoped for? Tender throat-grabbing between two placid and understanding gentlemen? It turns out that he was a doctor, and a tad concerned about the possibility of my having an enflamed esophagus. I think I'm OK, and so does he.

More bizarre than that was my experience at the Merkez Sengul Hamami. A hamam is a Turkish bath. I'll leave it at that. I don't know how I was influenced into going to this place. It seemed more of a tongue-in-cheek dare than genuine, innocent curiosity, but maybe I'm only searching for an excuse.

I entered the lobby of the hamam with a couple of friends and saw two men, in towels, sipping chai in chairs around an indoor fountain. I assumed that I was to change into my towel and chill out around the fountain, sipping tea, shootin' the breeze, and never really understanding why I couldn't do all this with my clothes on. I was then commandeered into another room by an eager Turkish man, only this time, the experience as a whole started to make more sense. I encountered a group of naked men (towels covered the essentials), being soaped, lathered, and massaged by other men, equally as naked. Everything seemed OK. There wasn't an overwhelming sense of impropriety, but to be fair, I'm looking at this man-fest through an American lens and discretely counting the exit signs, taking note of the angles they reside, and even seeking out implements to ward off overzealous suitors. Before I knew it though, I was on a hot slab of marble being tossed around like a rag-doll by a 275 lb., fleshy, naked, Turkish masseuse. The gentlemen was skilled though, and I relaxed enough to enjoy it. I was scrubbed handily, and walked out feeling both cleaner and dirtier than I've ever felt before. Would I do it again? You bet. I'm thinking once a month, at least. It's good for the skin.

Today was spent at the Ankara Citadel and touring the beautifully ornate Kocetepe Cammi (mosque). Pictures will come to those who seek. Besides that, evenings have been spend sitting at cafes with friends, smoking nargile and drinking chai. It's a good life.

My nerves about Bilecik are getting a little more pronounced, mainly because I'll be the only grantee there, but I was happy to note that they have an international office and Turkish language lessons aplenty. Besides that, I know nothing. I'll make sure to share when I have deets, however. That's all for now! Keep in touch and I'll keep these coming.

Gorusuruz!