Best summer I've ever had.
Classes start Monday. Reality resumes.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Istanbul
The other night I was with a giant group of friends, well at least friends of friends of friends. All of us were sitting outdoor at a pub on a rainy night with the awning keeping us dry.
I have to admit that more than being a part of the crowd, I was enjoying just watching them instead.
[These are my last days here and I've been a bit quiet. Not because I am so sad that I am leaving (which of course I am) but because I am falling in love for the first time in my young life, and it is with a city often personified as a woman than a man.]
- Earlier that day -
I spent the day with a friend whose company I very much enjoy. We did light jewelry shopping, coffee/cafe, and some filming (she makes documentaries - currently just shooting Istanbul for some practice with her camera). Perhaps it was the filming that really put me in an observational mode, and I was noticing so many little details of the city that kept making me smile. It was the horrible kind of day where it's chilly and rainy (although my favorite weather). It is particularly bad in Istanbul because the mud gushes out from the cobble-stoned streets and down the many steep hills.
People always talk about the difficulty of living in Istanbul. The melancholy, the sadness, the hardship of the fallen empire weeping in the dilapidated buildings. Forgotten monuments that aren't cared for with skyscrapers pushing them aside. There millions of people of every class living in such close spaces is not always pleasant. It's a hard city. It tests you everyday. My parents couldn't handle it and sometimes I wonder if I won't be able to.
--
An old man with an accordion played for a bit.
Funny people telling funny stories.
Friends coming and going, all staying for a responsible amount of time according to their schedules. But it's easy to come and go, to fit and sit. To have a drink, have fun, and call it a night. It's all very doable.
At one point my friend turned to me and said, "Can you imagine this being your life?"
I knew she was referring to the possibility of mild but necessary social interaction after a hard day's work in a beautiful city.
"But doesn't this happen in New York (where she lives)?"
"Nah man, you can't do this in New York. It's impossible to get a big group to sit outside so comfortably without planning."
Eventually, we called it a night and headed home.
And I caught a glimpse of the top of the Galata Tower.
And I was happy - in love.
This is going to be my home.
I have to admit that more than being a part of the crowd, I was enjoying just watching them instead.
[These are my last days here and I've been a bit quiet. Not because I am so sad that I am leaving (which of course I am) but because I am falling in love for the first time in my young life, and it is with a city often personified as a woman than a man.]
- Earlier that day -
I spent the day with a friend whose company I very much enjoy. We did light jewelry shopping, coffee/cafe, and some filming (she makes documentaries - currently just shooting Istanbul for some practice with her camera). Perhaps it was the filming that really put me in an observational mode, and I was noticing so many little details of the city that kept making me smile. It was the horrible kind of day where it's chilly and rainy (although my favorite weather). It is particularly bad in Istanbul because the mud gushes out from the cobble-stoned streets and down the many steep hills.
People always talk about the difficulty of living in Istanbul. The melancholy, the sadness, the hardship of the fallen empire weeping in the dilapidated buildings. Forgotten monuments that aren't cared for with skyscrapers pushing them aside. There millions of people of every class living in such close spaces is not always pleasant. It's a hard city. It tests you everyday. My parents couldn't handle it and sometimes I wonder if I won't be able to.
--
An old man with an accordion played for a bit.
Funny people telling funny stories.
Friends coming and going, all staying for a responsible amount of time according to their schedules. But it's easy to come and go, to fit and sit. To have a drink, have fun, and call it a night. It's all very doable.
At one point my friend turned to me and said, "Can you imagine this being your life?"
I knew she was referring to the possibility of mild but necessary social interaction after a hard day's work in a beautiful city.
"But doesn't this happen in New York (where she lives)?"
"Nah man, you can't do this in New York. It's impossible to get a big group to sit outside so comfortably without planning."
Eventually, we called it a night and headed home.
And I caught a glimpse of the top of the Galata Tower.
And I was happy - in love.
This is going to be my home.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Nice to Meet You
"Your name?"
"Zeynep Karataş"
"Okay, sign here."
SIMPLE AS THAT.
None of that who? What? How do you spell that? Zeyda? Zanep?
And sure I love being the chick with the interesting name in the States, but I must admit that I do get a little self-conscious introducing myself. In fact, I dread dealing with it every time I meet someone new. That 2 minute awkward ordeal of correcting a person's mispronunciation..
I am just another Zeynep. And sometimes, that's nice.
"Zeynep Karataş"
"Okay, sign here."
SIMPLE AS THAT.
None of that who? What? How do you spell that? Zeyda? Zanep?
And sure I love being the chick with the interesting name in the States, but I must admit that I do get a little self-conscious introducing myself. In fact, I dread dealing with it every time I meet someone new. That 2 minute awkward ordeal of correcting a person's mispronunciation..
I am just another Zeynep. And sometimes, that's nice.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Pera
Hmm
Hmmmmmmmmmmm
Beyoğlu (silent g - or rather, "soft" g)
The hood.
The district I am staying in, Besiktas, is not the place to be at night but it is conveniently close to Beyoglu.
Beyoglu is huge - it is also a place where I have spent a lot of my time in Istanbul - this calls for some explaining.
There are different sections of Beyoglu, we'll start with Taksim.
Taskim is the sqaure. It is where you can find all forms - buses, cabs, subway - the whole shabang. It is the most convenient location in the entire city to get you directly where you need to go. Taksim is at the top of Istiklal Avenue.
Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue)
There isn't an hour when you won't find this street bustling. Along the pedestrian street there are neo-classical, neo-gothic, and art noveau styled buildings from 19th cent/ 20th cent Ottoman days.
On the ground floor of these buildings there are boutiques, posh shops, galleries, book stores and cafes. Running between these stores is a classic red tram that goes from Taksim (at the top) down to Tunel (bottom).
About half way down Istiklal Ave there are the gates to one of the oldest high school in Turkey, established in 1481, Galatasaray Lisesi is a French school.
Tucked away in just past the lycee hides on of my favorite cafes. It is named after the man known as the eye of Istanbul, Ara Guler (who I presume to be the owner). The old grouch sits in the corner as some of his most photographs decorate the walls.
(A couple of his photos and one of the man himself)
Moving on down Istiklal there are street performers from blind accordian players, to old men playing traditional folk instruments, to bohemian hippies instruments that I don't actually know the names of. Sure, they accept money but they also accept cigarrettes which I find a bit amusing.
But it isn't just on this 3k long avenue where all the life is - it is on the side streets. You turn onto one street that leads you to another hidden corner where you find another. On these streets where only the locals have an idea of where they are going there are establishments which everyone has their preference to.
Outdoor cafes, pubs, drinking on terraces, underground clubs - night life is all there.
And when it gets to be around 4 in the morn and you find yourself starving after some olympic style drinking there is the street food that never sleeps. Meals like baby lamb intenstines, liver, muscles filled with rice, and the "wet" burgers await you with their tacky flashy lights.
But it's not just the structures that make this place, it's the people. You meet a person one night and you see them the next day and you feel like you've known him/her for years. I'm constantly running into familiar faces, and it makes this huge city feel a little smaller.
Once I was talking to a friend of mine, who lives in Cihangir (a hip/Euro area of B-town), and I asked what other parts of Istanbul he liked and he said, "I guess I'm kind of like Orhan Pamuk. I don't leave Beyoglu if I don't have to." And though I can get tired of being around all the chaos of the area myself, it sucks you back into its madness. Eventually, you miss it and you crave the crazies. Maybe that's the beauty of Beyoglu.
(Galata Tower - at the end of Istiklal Cad)
*Some pictures I took. Some I did not.*
Hmmmmmmmmmmm
Beyoğlu (silent g - or rather, "soft" g)
The hood.
The district I am staying in, Besiktas, is not the place to be at night but it is conveniently close to Beyoglu.
Beyoglu is huge - it is also a place where I have spent a lot of my time in Istanbul - this calls for some explaining.
There are different sections of Beyoglu, we'll start with Taksim.
Taskim is the sqaure. It is where you can find all forms - buses, cabs, subway - the whole shabang. It is the most convenient location in the entire city to get you directly where you need to go. Taksim is at the top of Istiklal Avenue.
Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue)
There isn't an hour when you won't find this street bustling. Along the pedestrian street there are neo-classical, neo-gothic, and art noveau styled buildings from 19th cent/ 20th cent Ottoman days.
On the ground floor of these buildings there are boutiques, posh shops, galleries, book stores and cafes. Running between these stores is a classic red tram that goes from Taksim (at the top) down to Tunel (bottom).
About half way down Istiklal Ave there are the gates to one of the oldest high school in Turkey, established in 1481, Galatasaray Lisesi is a French school.
Tucked away in just past the lycee hides on of my favorite cafes. It is named after the man known as the eye of Istanbul, Ara Guler (who I presume to be the owner). The old grouch sits in the corner as some of his most photographs decorate the walls.
(A couple of his photos and one of the man himself)
Moving on down Istiklal there are street performers from blind accordian players, to old men playing traditional folk instruments, to bohemian hippies instruments that I don't actually know the names of. Sure, they accept money but they also accept cigarrettes which I find a bit amusing.
But it isn't just on this 3k long avenue where all the life is - it is on the side streets. You turn onto one street that leads you to another hidden corner where you find another. On these streets where only the locals have an idea of where they are going there are establishments which everyone has their preference to.
Outdoor cafes, pubs, drinking on terraces, underground clubs - night life is all there.
And when it gets to be around 4 in the morn and you find yourself starving after some olympic style drinking there is the street food that never sleeps. Meals like baby lamb intenstines, liver, muscles filled with rice, and the "wet" burgers await you with their tacky flashy lights.
But it's not just the structures that make this place, it's the people. You meet a person one night and you see them the next day and you feel like you've known him/her for years. I'm constantly running into familiar faces, and it makes this huge city feel a little smaller.
Once I was talking to a friend of mine, who lives in Cihangir (a hip/Euro area of B-town), and I asked what other parts of Istanbul he liked and he said, "I guess I'm kind of like Orhan Pamuk. I don't leave Beyoglu if I don't have to." And though I can get tired of being around all the chaos of the area myself, it sucks you back into its madness. Eventually, you miss it and you crave the crazies. Maybe that's the beauty of Beyoglu.
(Galata Tower - at the end of Istiklal Cad)
*Some pictures I took. Some I did not.*
Monday, August 1, 2011
Littlest Things.
One of my favorite things about Turkey is the newspaper culture. Unlike America, newspapers a remain habitual practice of daily life. Even papers in English are easily accessible (for my lazy brain). You know, the little things.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Backstrokes
The Justice and Development Party (AKP) is the current party in power led by Prime Minister Tayyip Erdogan.
Turkey is a secular nation. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, as a I have mentioned before founded this country with staunch secular principles, but with recent events it is evident that things are changing.
Another fundamental in the make up of the Republic of Turkey is that if the government expresses too much power and magnetizes towards a theocratic government, then it is the job of the military to overthrow the party.
Well.
The AKP has some unsubtle Islamic leaning tendencies.
- There was a headscarf ban in public spaces, including schools and universities (public and private), courts of law, government offices and other official institutions, which was implemented in 1984. This ban was lifted by the AKP in 2008 though I think it was later annulled they are still informally permitted. Symbolically, Erdogan's wife and two daughters wear the headveil.
- In September of 2010, a constitutional amendment was passed that gave the ability of civilian courts to convict members of the military. This was an obvious direct hit to Ergenekon (an alleged clandestine, Kemalist ultra-nationalist organization in Turkey with possible ties to members of the country's military and security forces).
AKP is a very power party. They won this summer's elections with a landslide victory. They have the support of many of the lower class, uneducated, village people because they follow up on their monetary promises.
A friend was telling me about his friend's father's business located on the outskirts of the capital city of Ankara. This business has a few thousand blue collar workers and AK Party members said to the father (boss) that if that district doesn't vote for them then that company will be done for. Shut down. Goodbye. So this man (who would never vote for AKP) ended up giving his vote to the party and made sure his workers did the same. That's the way it works.
The state of Turkey is now polarized in women who veil and those who don't. I must admit I judge someone harshly who chooses to veil because in all honesty, a woman who wears a headveil is presenting a political identity, not spiritual obedience.
A couple days ago, a four top military commanders resigned.
The defenders of secularism - quit.
Papers say they this in protest to the trials against members of the military that have alleged ties with Ergenekon.
My thoughts: I am worried about the future of Turkey. The exaggerating pessimist in me likens 2011 Turkey to 1979 Iran.
http://english.aljazeera.net/programmes/insidestory/2011/07/201173194112483174.html
Turkey is a secular nation. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, as a I have mentioned before founded this country with staunch secular principles, but with recent events it is evident that things are changing.
Another fundamental in the make up of the Republic of Turkey is that if the government expresses too much power and magnetizes towards a theocratic government, then it is the job of the military to overthrow the party.
Well.
The AKP has some unsubtle Islamic leaning tendencies.
- There was a headscarf ban in public spaces, including schools and universities (public and private), courts of law, government offices and other official institutions, which was implemented in 1984. This ban was lifted by the AKP in 2008 though I think it was later annulled they are still informally permitted. Symbolically, Erdogan's wife and two daughters wear the headveil.
- In September of 2010, a constitutional amendment was passed that gave the ability of civilian courts to convict members of the military. This was an obvious direct hit to Ergenekon (an alleged clandestine, Kemalist ultra-nationalist organization in Turkey with possible ties to members of the country's military and security forces).
AKP is a very power party. They won this summer's elections with a landslide victory. They have the support of many of the lower class, uneducated, village people because they follow up on their monetary promises.
A friend was telling me about his friend's father's business located on the outskirts of the capital city of Ankara. This business has a few thousand blue collar workers and AK Party members said to the father (boss) that if that district doesn't vote for them then that company will be done for. Shut down. Goodbye. So this man (who would never vote for AKP) ended up giving his vote to the party and made sure his workers did the same. That's the way it works.
The state of Turkey is now polarized in women who veil and those who don't. I must admit I judge someone harshly who chooses to veil because in all honesty, a woman who wears a headveil is presenting a political identity, not spiritual obedience.
A couple days ago, a four top military commanders resigned.
The defenders of secularism - quit.
Papers say they this in protest to the trials against members of the military that have alleged ties with Ergenekon.
My thoughts: I am worried about the future of Turkey. The exaggerating pessimist in me likens 2011 Turkey to 1979 Iran.
http://english.aljazeera.net/programmes/insidestory/2011/07/201173194112483174.html
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Ramazan
The Islamic month of fasting is approaching and I have to admit I am looking forward to it.
I've never experienced Ramazan in a Muslim country before so it will be interesting to see how the people change their lifestyles.
People who choose to fast cut off all food and even water when the sun is up(Ramazan is a big topic to explain but I wont even try so I can actually make my point).
Though I won't take part in the fasting/praying/spiritual experience of Ramazan I think it will be a good reminder for me to slow down.
I must admit that I've been raging a little too much lately and often find myself biting my fist out of embarrassment in the mornings as my memory resurfaces.
I need to adapt and shed my American state school girl (leatherneck). This is İstanbul, Türkiye not Macomb, Illinois.
And really, that's what Ramazan is about; it's a cleansing process.
I'm just half-assing it.
I've never experienced Ramazan in a Muslim country before so it will be interesting to see how the people change their lifestyles.
People who choose to fast cut off all food and even water when the sun is up(Ramazan is a big topic to explain but I wont even try so I can actually make my point).
Though I won't take part in the fasting/praying/spiritual experience of Ramazan I think it will be a good reminder for me to slow down.
I must admit that I've been raging a little too much lately and often find myself biting my fist out of embarrassment in the mornings as my memory resurfaces.
I need to adapt and shed my American state school girl (leatherneck). This is İstanbul, Türkiye not Macomb, Illinois.
And really, that's what Ramazan is about; it's a cleansing process.
I'm just half-assing it.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Speak
Turkish is a very fun language.
It is can be stretched, pulled, pushed, twisted, and liquidated.
Everything can turn funny.
Anything goes.
I wish I had the words to give a better understanding but I am left speechless.
It is can be stretched, pulled, pushed, twisted, and liquidated.
Everything can turn funny.
Anything goes.
I wish I had the words to give a better understanding but I am left speechless.
Monday, July 18, 2011
What Said said.
The other night I was out looking at posters and postcards for sale and kept coming across odalisques... This is where my mind went.
Wiki insert: An odalisque (Turkish: Odalık) was a female slave in an Ottoman seraglio. She was an assistant or apprentice to the concubines and wives, and she might rise in status to become one of them. Most odalisques were part of the Imperial Harem, that is, the household of the sultan.
Orientalism is an concept that fascinated me ever since I first saw Ingres's Le Grand Odalisque in my art history class.
Orientalsim is how the West interprets the East.. So naturally, accuracy is minimal.
Istanbul.
The city that bridges the East to the West - How cliche of me.
But there is truth to it. Besides just literally, with two Bridges that start in one continent and end on another.
Side note: I never will cease to be fascinated that ferry boats here are used as just another form of public transportation. Example: My friend from work, Ekin (like many other Istanbulites) lives in Asia but commutes to Europe on a daily basis. All very doable.
Istanbul. Ex-residence for sultans and concubines.
Istanbul. Desperate to enter the EU.
One of the strange things the confusion of Turkish society my mother once explained to me:
When I would go to the deli in Etiler (a posh district of Istanbul) I would have to ask specifically for the the non-ham products (being a Muzzie and all). And the man working would give me a look, like he was looking down on me. Though he would never eat any ham himself (being a Muzzie and all), he would be looking at me like I was of lower class. It was okay for him to accept his Muslim-ness but for an upper-class westernized woman, it wasn't. The elite try so hard to occidentalize that they end up denying their religion, their language, and their traditions. Our society is turning into something very strange.
Then there are places like the Grand Bazaar which self-orientalize.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Bazaar,_Istanbul
A tourist trap.
The only people to actually go to the Grand Bazaar (other than the people who work there) are tourists. It's just where Westerners go to look at what they have imagined Turkey to be for so long. Spices and belly dancing costumes.
The Grand Bazaar seems to embrace the heritage of the east, perhaps solely for attracting some $ or €.
Push west. Pull east.
A confused people.
Wiki insert: An odalisque (Turkish: Odalık) was a female slave in an Ottoman seraglio. She was an assistant or apprentice to the concubines and wives, and she might rise in status to become one of them. Most odalisques were part of the Imperial Harem, that is, the household of the sultan.
Orientalism is an concept that fascinated me ever since I first saw Ingres's Le Grand Odalisque in my art history class.
Orientalsim is how the West interprets the East.. So naturally, accuracy is minimal.
Istanbul.
The city that bridges the East to the West - How cliche of me.
But there is truth to it. Besides just literally, with two Bridges that start in one continent and end on another.
Side note: I never will cease to be fascinated that ferry boats here are used as just another form of public transportation. Example: My friend from work, Ekin (like many other Istanbulites) lives in Asia but commutes to Europe on a daily basis. All very doable.
Istanbul. Ex-residence for sultans and concubines.
Istanbul. Desperate to enter the EU.
One of the strange things the confusion of Turkish society my mother once explained to me:
When I would go to the deli in Etiler (a posh district of Istanbul) I would have to ask specifically for the the non-ham products (being a Muzzie and all). And the man working would give me a look, like he was looking down on me. Though he would never eat any ham himself (being a Muzzie and all), he would be looking at me like I was of lower class. It was okay for him to accept his Muslim-ness but for an upper-class westernized woman, it wasn't. The elite try so hard to occidentalize that they end up denying their religion, their language, and their traditions. Our society is turning into something very strange.
Then there are places like the Grand Bazaar which self-orientalize.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Bazaar,_Istanbul
A tourist trap.
The only people to actually go to the Grand Bazaar (other than the people who work there) are tourists. It's just where Westerners go to look at what they have imagined Turkey to be for so long. Spices and belly dancing costumes.
The Grand Bazaar seems to embrace the heritage of the east, perhaps solely for attracting some $ or €.
Push west. Pull east.
A confused people.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A Secular Deity?
Today I was sitting at a cafe forcing myself to read some Pamuk one last time, but I finally decided to give up.
As my idle mind wondered to thoughts and my eyes to the streets, I saw a familiar face.
I called out and he took a seat. This was Jared a.k.a. J-Date (he recently decided to only date Jewish girls).
Jared is a new acquaintance of mine. He is a graduate student at Columbia University and is spending his summer in Istanbul. His field of focus is on the sociological interrelationship of the nation and religion in Turkey.
Turkey is a secular Muslim republic founded by the national hero, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
After the Ottoman Empire fell, the Turkish Republic rose with radical changes implemented by Ataturk. The ideology of Kemalism is the foundation that this country was built on. One of the vital fundamentals of Kemalism is secularism.
Ah.. now we begin.
Ataturk was a staunch secularist. He abolished The Caliphate and sought to 'modernize' and 'Europeonize' the new found nation.
Kemalism supported the equality of all religions by keeping them equally distant from state affairs.
Now if you don't know what Mustafa Kemal Ataturk looks like, you will find out the first second you step on this land. His image is EVERYWHERE. And by everywhere, I mean it.
In every office of every department of every&all (non)official buildings.
There is a statue of him in every town or city. His image appears on the currency. Even on the walls of streets throughout Istanbul, there are pictures of his days in power hanging.
Hero.
To deny or diss him is a crime because he transitively represents the state; therefore you insult the country.
Ataturk, father of the Turks, is this country. Turkiye is Ataturk.
But what J-date and I found so interesting about this (not just national) personal hero of mine is that there are confusing parallels between him and a deity.
J-date brought up a partıcularly interesting example of how a Turkish friend of his was told when she was young that she wasn't allowed to draw a picture of Atatürk. Why? Because it would never be good enough. And although that may not be the same reason a Muslim isn't allowed to recreate the image of Muhammad (Muzzies are against iconography for people might place the prophet before Allah) both of us couldn't help but get a little excited about the connection.
He is the creator.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Holy..
The other day I was on the bus and I think we nearly hit another car. Something of that sort happened where the bus made a hard, quick move that made everyone stumble a bit.
While everyone on the bus cried, "Allah!", I (as a reflex) called out, "Jesus!".
Heh.
While everyone on the bus cried, "Allah!", I (as a reflex) called out, "Jesus!".
Heh.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
A Spot of Bragging
This is my room for the next month. NBD.
.......jk
That’s the view from my window. I could gaze out that chair all day.
I think that desk chair is very pretty as well.
I never want to go back. Anywhere else seems like a joke after this.
.......jk
That’s the view from my window. I could gaze out that chair all day.
I think that desk chair is very pretty as well.
I never want to go back. Anywhere else seems like a joke after this.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Pergamon
Before I forget to mention...
I took a day trip to this ancient city. It was incredible.
I visited the ruins of the Acropolis, the Amphitheatre, the Red Hall (Serapeion), and the Asklepion.
awesomebawsomelawsomemawesome.
I think my favorite part was being at the amphitheatre which was crazy steep (approximately 70 degrees) and hearing the prayer echo from the city.
I took a day trip to this ancient city. It was incredible.
I visited the ruins of the Acropolis, the Amphitheatre, the Red Hall (Serapeion), and the Asklepion.
awesomebawsomelawsomemawesome.
I think my favorite part was being at the amphitheatre which was crazy steep (approximately 70 degrees) and hearing the prayer echo from the city.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Bliss
I started my internship yesterday.
So far it's been nothing but amazing. My only complaint is that I dont have enough to do yet but I've only just begun.
Yesterday, I edited the English section for the manuscript of a new book they are working on.
Then I translated a bio about the Turkish artist, Ali Sami Boyar.
Those both were a bit difficult but I loved everything about it. It felt right.
And the people here are great. I am in the curators office with 3 other ladies. One just graduated college, one seems to be in her mid-twenties, and the boss is probably in her 30s. They are very warm and sweet. Then there is Erol who comes here from the restoration department to chill here to basically crack jokes.
It's great just being in this office with artifacts cluttering the room.
But perhaps the best part is their taste in music.
This morning I was finish up some translating I started yesterday and as I sat working with my tea, Tugce started playing Edith Piaf.
Cool.
After we had enough Piaf, Ayse turned on some Radıohead.
Awesome.
And after lunch/tea with everyone we get back to the office Tugce one ups Ayse with some Beirut.
Perfect.
So far it's been nothing but amazing. My only complaint is that I dont have enough to do yet but I've only just begun.
Yesterday, I edited the English section for the manuscript of a new book they are working on.
Then I translated a bio about the Turkish artist, Ali Sami Boyar.
Those both were a bit difficult but I loved everything about it. It felt right.
And the people here are great. I am in the curators office with 3 other ladies. One just graduated college, one seems to be in her mid-twenties, and the boss is probably in her 30s. They are very warm and sweet. Then there is Erol who comes here from the restoration department to chill here to basically crack jokes.
It's great just being in this office with artifacts cluttering the room.
But perhaps the best part is their taste in music.
This morning I was finish up some translating I started yesterday and as I sat working with my tea, Tugce started playing Edith Piaf.
Cool.
After we had enough Piaf, Ayse turned on some Radıohead.
Awesome.
And after lunch/tea with everyone we get back to the office Tugce one ups Ayse with some Beirut.
Perfect.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
What’s your business?
Last night my friend Elif and her new/first husband convinced me to come to the island.
There are a few islands an hour or so away from the city called the Prince’s Islands. They were at Buyuk Ada (translation: Big Island). I’d never been to the islands and the only plan I had for the next day was to familiarize myself how to work by public transportation so I won’t find myself arriving late on my first day.
So this morning, I woke up fairly early and figured out which bus would take me to Kabatas Iskele (dock where the ferry leaves). Done.
Make it to island in an hour. Done.
Have an INCREDIBLE day filled with seriously serious biking (no cars on the island, just horse-drawn carriages and bikes !), gorgeous views, witty banter, and two remarkable people. Done.
Go back to Istanbul in an hour. Done.
Then I had to figure out where the fuck I was, where the fuck I was going, and how the fuck I was going to get there.
I lost count of the number of subways and bus rides I took. Too many. Too, too many.
These roads make no sense. They twist and turn to places you didn’t know there were places. It’s messy/confusing/intense. Since Istanbul is so old I think they just never planned anything out. They just kept building wherever anything could fit. Then one thing would collapse and lean over and they just kept filling the holes (but you cant just fill holes)
I kept thinking to myself that I am a sad lost little puppy. Over and over again puppy puppy puppy.
And once more I went underneath the city to the subway and found myself sitting across from a puppy in a cage between its owner’s feet.
He was a tiny, super uber ugly dog, so ugly it’s like a joke. And I just kept staring and staring at this other puppy (me being puppy 1& ugly being puppy 2) imagining myself stealing the puppy so we could live ugly lost puppy lives together and how we deserve love too and we could live merrily puppy after. He (assuming it was a he) stares up at me with his buggy eyes and telepathically queried, “What the fuck is your business in this city?”
My giggle crescendoed into a full blown chortle. Done.
Istanbul, day one is done… You bitch.
There are a few islands an hour or so away from the city called the Prince’s Islands. They were at Buyuk Ada (translation: Big Island). I’d never been to the islands and the only plan I had for the next day was to familiarize myself how to work by public transportation so I won’t find myself arriving late on my first day.
So this morning, I woke up fairly early and figured out which bus would take me to Kabatas Iskele (dock where the ferry leaves). Done.
Make it to island in an hour. Done.
Have an INCREDIBLE day filled with seriously serious biking (no cars on the island, just horse-drawn carriages and bikes !), gorgeous views, witty banter, and two remarkable people. Done.
Go back to Istanbul in an hour. Done.
Then I had to figure out where the fuck I was, where the fuck I was going, and how the fuck I was going to get there.
I lost count of the number of subways and bus rides I took. Too many. Too, too many.
These roads make no sense. They twist and turn to places you didn’t know there were places. It’s messy/confusing/intense. Since Istanbul is so old I think they just never planned anything out. They just kept building wherever anything could fit. Then one thing would collapse and lean over and they just kept filling the holes (but you cant just fill holes)
I kept thinking to myself that I am a sad lost little puppy. Over and over again puppy puppy puppy.
And once more I went underneath the city to the subway and found myself sitting across from a puppy in a cage between its owner’s feet.
He was a tiny, super uber ugly dog, so ugly it’s like a joke. And I just kept staring and staring at this other puppy (me being puppy 1& ugly being puppy 2) imagining myself stealing the puppy so we could live ugly lost puppy lives together and how we deserve love too and we could live merrily puppy after. He (assuming it was a he) stares up at me with his buggy eyes and telepathically queried, “What the fuck is your business in this city?”
My giggle crescendoed into a full blown chortle. Done.
Istanbul, day one is done… You bitch.
Monday, June 27, 2011
An Introduction
I leave for Istanbul in two days.
Though it's definately not my first time going to the old city, it is the most excited I've ever been to go. Reason being, I'll be an Istanbulite for 48 days. Technically, I lived in Istanbul for three years but those were the first years of my life so naturally no memory of that is left. This time I will be forced to learn the roads, deal with the 13 million people, and listen to the chaos.
Introducing Istanbul to someone is ... impossible. Its too complex.
Its likely the majortity of my upcoming posts will be all about the gargantuan city because there is plenty to say.
In the last book I read, The Saint of Incipient Insanities by Elif Shafak (highly recommend it), she says this for Ist.
"So the roofs shriek in Istanbul, but it is the streets that talk. It is on the streetsthat life throbs in a mélange of fuming and frustraed, aching and buoyant voices; the squawk of horns splintered by the piercing yell of street vendors, emergency sirens, prayers from copious mosques, and the clangor of distant church bells; a hovering humming accompanied by the constant swish of the sea, as if it intended to wash away this pandemonium once and for all. It is a city of infinite quarrels - between men and men, men and women, and life and death. The hubbub is so dense that even the faintest click fuses with an outcry far away, absorbing therefore, a touch of the overall tune. If you listen attentively, you'll notice there is an underlying rhythm. Streets are cadenced in Istanbul, far more harmoniously than the beat of the lives that slither upon them."
She also does this awesome TedTalk.
http://www.ted.com/talks/elif_shafak_the_politics_of_fiction.html
Though it's definately not my first time going to the old city, it is the most excited I've ever been to go. Reason being, I'll be an Istanbulite for 48 days. Technically, I lived in Istanbul for three years but those were the first years of my life so naturally no memory of that is left. This time I will be forced to learn the roads, deal with the 13 million people, and listen to the chaos.
Introducing Istanbul to someone is ... impossible. Its too complex.
Its likely the majortity of my upcoming posts will be all about the gargantuan city because there is plenty to say.
In the last book I read, The Saint of Incipient Insanities by Elif Shafak (highly recommend it), she says this for Ist.
"So the roofs shriek in Istanbul, but it is the streets that talk. It is on the streetsthat life throbs in a mélange of fuming and frustraed, aching and buoyant voices; the squawk of horns splintered by the piercing yell of street vendors, emergency sirens, prayers from copious mosques, and the clangor of distant church bells; a hovering humming accompanied by the constant swish of the sea, as if it intended to wash away this pandemonium once and for all. It is a city of infinite quarrels - between men and men, men and women, and life and death. The hubbub is so dense that even the faintest click fuses with an outcry far away, absorbing therefore, a touch of the overall tune. If you listen attentively, you'll notice there is an underlying rhythm. Streets are cadenced in Istanbul, far more harmoniously than the beat of the lives that slither upon them."
She also does this awesome TedTalk.
http://www.ted.com/talks/elif_shafak_the_politics_of_fiction.html
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Adventureland
Yesterday, I was sitting with Bora and Asilcan discussing our oldest memories.
"Wait a second. Zeynep, how long have we been friends?" Bora asked.
And the three of us started counting on our fingers. Nine years. I met Bora and Asilcan nine years ago. I am nineteen now, so to me thats a pretty big chunck of time.
"Oh man! Has it been that long? How did the time go by?" then Bora turned to Asilcan, "That only means that you and I have been friends for even longer!"
Looking like men, they laughed like boys.
Lately, I have been thinking of the time I have spent here. This summer will likely be the last one that I spend here for an extensive period of time. We've all outgrown these neighborhoods. We've had our childish fun and are ready to move on.
Every year I would look forward the freedom of summer. Lawless, reckless, and retarded summers. Its something I never got to experience in the suburbs.
So we reminisce. These are somethings that I have/havent been apart of since our group has formed...
- Being thirteen (without licenses), outrunning the cops in my friend's father's moped from steep cobble-stoned backstreets.
- Being fourteen, getting drunk, and jumping in a pool with all my clothes on.
- Bora drunkenly crashing the set of a show filming here. He stopped the filming and attempted hitting on the star of the show.
- Bora climbing on the roof of the tinytiny mini-mart (basically a hut) to retrieve a soccer ball and having the owner throw potatoes at him (potatoes?!.. how foreign)
- Going to a swanky club and my friend drunkenly climb the tree inside and jumping off.
- Grown men in their earlier 20s playing drunken hide and seek in an abandoned home.
- Going out on a broken paddle boat fit for 4 people.. We took 9. Got stuck at sea.
- Baby lamb intenstines at 4 in the morn.... Mhmmmmmm
- 4 idiots in 2 cars racing. Asilcan's car flipped 4 times.
......... And so many other things I cant think of.
These mostly root from the lack of law here.
Good run. See you later Ayvalik.
"Wait a second. Zeynep, how long have we been friends?" Bora asked.
And the three of us started counting on our fingers. Nine years. I met Bora and Asilcan nine years ago. I am nineteen now, so to me thats a pretty big chunck of time.
"Oh man! Has it been that long? How did the time go by?" then Bora turned to Asilcan, "That only means that you and I have been friends for even longer!"
Looking like men, they laughed like boys.
Lately, I have been thinking of the time I have spent here. This summer will likely be the last one that I spend here for an extensive period of time. We've all outgrown these neighborhoods. We've had our childish fun and are ready to move on.
Every year I would look forward the freedom of summer. Lawless, reckless, and retarded summers. Its something I never got to experience in the suburbs.
So we reminisce. These are somethings that I have/havent been apart of since our group has formed...
- Being thirteen (without licenses), outrunning the cops in my friend's father's moped from steep cobble-stoned backstreets.
- Being fourteen, getting drunk, and jumping in a pool with all my clothes on.
- Bora drunkenly crashing the set of a show filming here. He stopped the filming and attempted hitting on the star of the show.
- Bora climbing on the roof of the tinytiny mini-mart (basically a hut) to retrieve a soccer ball and having the owner throw potatoes at him (potatoes?!.. how foreign)
- Going to a swanky club and my friend drunkenly climb the tree inside and jumping off.
- Grown men in their earlier 20s playing drunken hide and seek in an abandoned home.
- Going out on a broken paddle boat fit for 4 people.. We took 9. Got stuck at sea.
- Baby lamb intenstines at 4 in the morn.... Mhmmmmmm
- 4 idiots in 2 cars racing. Asilcan's car flipped 4 times.
......... And so many other things I cant think of.
These mostly root from the lack of law here.
Good run. See you later Ayvalik.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Cost of Learning
Discussion topic with 3 friends: The price of education.
All four of us are university students and they were curious about the price of education in America.
"I go the cheapest state school in my state, and for a year I pay about $18,000"
Their jaws dropped.
"My sister goes to a private school and hers costs about $50,000 a year," I continued.
"Dollars?!"
"Ha, well of course," I replied.
Normally government owned schools in Turkey are about 1,000 Turkish Lira a year and the most expensive private school in the country is 20,000TL .
So my cruddy state school nears the cost of the top private school in the nation.
Though we were looking at the subject all too simplistically (not mentioning financial aid and what not), Merve asked why a person wouldnt just take that money and start their own business.
I choose to tell her one out of the many reasons why that wouldnt work out well.
Franchises.
America is all about franchises. Its very difficult to keeo up a profitable self-owned business. Unlike the hookah cafe that we were sitting at where the owner is a friend's father, there isnt much of a personal attachment to a business.
Have I ever met the owner of Target, Jewel, Gap, Walgreens, or Chipotle?
No.
Growing up in the suburbs has a very melancholic lonely air because there is nothing unique about the land. Cruising from one burb to another, I've observed the same companies repeat. Its difficult to tell one town from the next.
But walking through town I am in direct contact with the owners.
There is:
- Turan Abi (Abi means big brother) at the photoshop. Eccentric man who sports a ponytail.
- Servet Abi at the sandwich/panini mini-cafe. He has a crappy tattoo from his jail days and calls me his American darling.
- Hasan Abi from the mini-mart. He is a Marxist and named his shop after the famous political activist, Deniz Gezmis, who was killed by the governmnet.
-The guy at the cafe I go to nearly daily, whose name I dont know but always takes the ashtray off my table knowing I am not a smoker.
- Deli Gungor ("Crazy" Gungor) The weirdo ice cream man who has the best mulberry flavored ice cream.
Just the people I come across who own their own modest little business, making modest money, with modest lives. Simple. Likely uneducated. Personal.
All four of us are university students and they were curious about the price of education in America.
"I go the cheapest state school in my state, and for a year I pay about $18,000"
Their jaws dropped.
"My sister goes to a private school and hers costs about $50,000 a year," I continued.
"Dollars?!"
"Ha, well of course," I replied.
Normally government owned schools in Turkey are about 1,000 Turkish Lira a year and the most expensive private school in the country is 20,000TL .
So my cruddy state school nears the cost of the top private school in the nation.
Though we were looking at the subject all too simplistically (not mentioning financial aid and what not), Merve asked why a person wouldnt just take that money and start their own business.
I choose to tell her one out of the many reasons why that wouldnt work out well.
Franchises.
America is all about franchises. Its very difficult to keeo up a profitable self-owned business. Unlike the hookah cafe that we were sitting at where the owner is a friend's father, there isnt much of a personal attachment to a business.
Have I ever met the owner of Target, Jewel, Gap, Walgreens, or Chipotle?
No.
Growing up in the suburbs has a very melancholic lonely air because there is nothing unique about the land. Cruising from one burb to another, I've observed the same companies repeat. Its difficult to tell one town from the next.
But walking through town I am in direct contact with the owners.
There is:
- Turan Abi (Abi means big brother) at the photoshop. Eccentric man who sports a ponytail.
- Servet Abi at the sandwich/panini mini-cafe. He has a crappy tattoo from his jail days and calls me his American darling.
- Hasan Abi from the mini-mart. He is a Marxist and named his shop after the famous political activist, Deniz Gezmis, who was killed by the governmnet.
-The guy at the cafe I go to nearly daily, whose name I dont know but always takes the ashtray off my table knowing I am not a smoker.
- Deli Gungor ("Crazy" Gungor) The weirdo ice cream man who has the best mulberry flavored ice cream.
Just the people I come across who own their own modest little business, making modest money, with modest lives. Simple. Likely uneducated. Personal.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Kurdish Issue
At the end of last semester, a friend and I started watching documentary called Iraq in Fragments. I didnt get the chance to finish it but when I went to his room the next day I saw little post its he scribbled down to help him understand the different religious/ethnic groups in the tumultuous country. I couldn't help but find his efforts to better understand on the differences between Shiites, Sunnis, and Kurds a little cute. When I asked him how the doc ended, he said it was pretty interesting. He added that the Kurds seem to be the most reasonable out of the Iraqi factions.
"Kurds are tight" - He said
and unthinkingly I responded..
"Fuck the Kurds.. Wait. No. Fuck the PKK."
Wiki insert: The Kurdistan Workers' Party, commonly known as PKK, is a Kurdish militant organization which has since 1984 been fighting an armed struggle against the Turkish state for an autonomous Kurdistan and greater cultural and political rights for the Kurds in Turkey. The PKK is listed as a terrorist organization internationally by a number of states and organizations, including the United States. Turkey labeled the organization as an ethnic secessionist organization that uses terrorism and the threat of force against both civilian and military targets for the purpose of achieving its political goal. The PKK leader said on an interview that the only reason they have been put on the 'Terrorist organization' list is due to political pressure from Turkey, who he accuses of falsifying accounts and unfairly demonizing the organization.
My conversation with my comrade had me thinking of everything I know or have seen about Kurds in Turkey. I'm fromt the Western coast and they live in the East so I haven't had much personal interaction.
I kept thinking.. What do I know?
- I remember watching a documentary on the music of Turkey called Crossing the Bridge: The Sound of Istanbul. A Kurdish woman sang a beautiful song in a language I didnt understand. But she and others explain how they 10 years back, they werent allowed to sing in Kurdish. French, Italian, and English songs were fine but the language of people who actually belong to the land was forbidden. A man explained that in 1990 the law against speaking in Kurdish was removed but expressed his disappointment in the governments reasoning for the laws dismissal. He says that Turkish government only did so to please the European Union and increase their chances of accesion into the western club.
I kept thinking...
When I returned home after the semester, over some post-breakfast tea I asked my mother about the PKK. I asked if they really had faced hardships, whether people were openly discrimitive, why they were terrorists, etc..
Honey, they live in a very difficult area. Eastern Turkey is dry, cold, and poor. Its not just the Kurds that are suffering, it is all those people in the poor villages in the east. Then the PKK comes to these Kurds living in mountains and recruits young boys. They say, youre a Kurd. Youre one of us. You and I are fighting the same against these Turks. Your pain is mine, and mine is yours. We are brothers. But my mother explains that is all the people living in the east that face harship.
My dear, she says, Turkey isnt America. Turkey is not a rich country and cant just open schools and hospitals like America can. Thats what those people need but find themselves going far distances to seek. And since they are uneducated, they are easily brainwashed by the PKK.
---
Then my grandmother and the rest of our family.
My aunt become very rich after her father died, he left her a lot of land and farms.
My rich cousin fell in love with a Kurdish girl that worked oon one of the farms. He wanted to marry her and my family didnt approve. He eloped :)
My grandmother's sister went nuts. She called grandma in hysterics. I thought someone died. No, I thought EVERYONE died. My grandmother was calming her by predicting divorce in a year..
As I was laughing about the ridiculousness of my family over the phone with my mother, shes like its actually really sad. Its even dangerous. She explained that
A. They are going to struggle, its hard not having your family approving of marriage.
B. What if her family doesnt approve either? And she has uncles and brothers? They could kill him.
Sad young lovers..
"Kurds are tight" - He said
and unthinkingly I responded..
"Fuck the Kurds.. Wait. No. Fuck the PKK."
Wiki insert: The Kurdistan Workers' Party, commonly known as PKK, is a Kurdish militant organization which has since 1984 been fighting an armed struggle against the Turkish state for an autonomous Kurdistan and greater cultural and political rights for the Kurds in Turkey. The PKK is listed as a terrorist organization internationally by a number of states and organizations, including the United States. Turkey labeled the organization as an ethnic secessionist organization that uses terrorism and the threat of force against both civilian and military targets for the purpose of achieving its political goal. The PKK leader said on an interview that the only reason they have been put on the 'Terrorist organization' list is due to political pressure from Turkey, who he accuses of falsifying accounts and unfairly demonizing the organization.
My conversation with my comrade had me thinking of everything I know or have seen about Kurds in Turkey. I'm fromt the Western coast and they live in the East so I haven't had much personal interaction.
I kept thinking.. What do I know?
- I remember watching a documentary on the music of Turkey called Crossing the Bridge: The Sound of Istanbul. A Kurdish woman sang a beautiful song in a language I didnt understand. But she and others explain how they 10 years back, they werent allowed to sing in Kurdish. French, Italian, and English songs were fine but the language of people who actually belong to the land was forbidden. A man explained that in 1990 the law against speaking in Kurdish was removed but expressed his disappointment in the governments reasoning for the laws dismissal. He says that Turkish government only did so to please the European Union and increase their chances of accesion into the western club.
I kept thinking...
When I returned home after the semester, over some post-breakfast tea I asked my mother about the PKK. I asked if they really had faced hardships, whether people were openly discrimitive, why they were terrorists, etc..
Honey, they live in a very difficult area. Eastern Turkey is dry, cold, and poor. Its not just the Kurds that are suffering, it is all those people in the poor villages in the east. Then the PKK comes to these Kurds living in mountains and recruits young boys. They say, youre a Kurd. Youre one of us. You and I are fighting the same against these Turks. Your pain is mine, and mine is yours. We are brothers. But my mother explains that is all the people living in the east that face harship.
My dear, she says, Turkey isnt America. Turkey is not a rich country and cant just open schools and hospitals like America can. Thats what those people need but find themselves going far distances to seek. And since they are uneducated, they are easily brainwashed by the PKK.
---
Then my grandmother and the rest of our family.
My aunt become very rich after her father died, he left her a lot of land and farms.
My rich cousin fell in love with a Kurdish girl that worked oon one of the farms. He wanted to marry her and my family didnt approve. He eloped :)
My grandmother's sister went nuts. She called grandma in hysterics. I thought someone died. No, I thought EVERYONE died. My grandmother was calming her by predicting divorce in a year..
As I was laughing about the ridiculousness of my family over the phone with my mother, shes like its actually really sad. Its even dangerous. She explained that
A. They are going to struggle, its hard not having your family approving of marriage.
B. What if her family doesnt approve either? And she has uncles and brothers? They could kill him.
Sad young lovers..
Friday, June 17, 2011
Poor Little Rich Girl
There's a few lines that keep running through my mind from a Spektor song.
1. Poor little rich boy, all the couples have gone
You wish that they hadn't, you don't wanna be alone
2. You're reading Fitzgerald, you're reading Hemmingway
They're both super smart and drinking in the cafes
3. You're so young, you're so goddamn young
A. I am here alone.
I'm staying with my grandmother until the end of the month and although I appreciate everything from her, I really have a difficult time understanding how we are related. Again, with all due respect, she can drive me nuts with her good intentions. But it is not familial contact that I desire but like any 19-year-old, it is social. Slowly, I am socializing as I usually do but I wholeheartedly miss my friends Americana.
B. Every morning, I face the decision dilemma. What will I do with myself today? Beach or cafe? Usually, it's cafe. Reading Shafak and Maugham in the cafe. Writing here, reading there, drink beer, and inhaling the Aegean air. My time here is so open that I have the privilege to think.. and think.. I may be learning more here than my past semester of univeristy. Larry from The Razor's Edge is in my mind.
C. Fitzgerald's themes of the privileged & youth. I am so damn young. It's a shame that I'm summering while the rest of my friends are desperately trying to support themselves. I do not want to give the impression that I live in luxury but my parents are willing to pay for my everything.. It's shaming.
My difficulty is my boredom.
White people problems..
1. Poor little rich boy, all the couples have gone
You wish that they hadn't, you don't wanna be alone
2. You're reading Fitzgerald, you're reading Hemmingway
They're both super smart and drinking in the cafes
3. You're so young, you're so goddamn young
A. I am here alone.
I'm staying with my grandmother until the end of the month and although I appreciate everything from her, I really have a difficult time understanding how we are related. Again, with all due respect, she can drive me nuts with her good intentions. But it is not familial contact that I desire but like any 19-year-old, it is social. Slowly, I am socializing as I usually do but I wholeheartedly miss my friends Americana.
B. Every morning, I face the decision dilemma. What will I do with myself today? Beach or cafe? Usually, it's cafe. Reading Shafak and Maugham in the cafe. Writing here, reading there, drink beer, and inhaling the Aegean air. My time here is so open that I have the privilege to think.. and think.. I may be learning more here than my past semester of univeristy. Larry from The Razor's Edge is in my mind.
C. Fitzgerald's themes of the privileged & youth. I am so damn young. It's a shame that I'm summering while the rest of my friends are desperately trying to support themselves. I do not want to give the impression that I live in luxury but my parents are willing to pay for my everything.. It's shaming.
My difficulty is my boredom.
White people problems..
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Visitor
My friend Talia came to visit and we had a swell time. Here are some of her pictures that I stole.
All-inclusive
-Boat trip
-Talia stepping on a sea cactus
-Touching an octopus
-Relaxrelax
-Dancedance
-Greek ruins
Friday, June 10, 2011
Apparently
There is a fine for not voting.
I think that's interesting. I like it.
Election day on Sunday.
Sadly, the party I would like to win is only to get the current party out of power. But that is not likely to happen.
So pessimism all around!
I think that's interesting. I like it.
Election day on Sunday.
Sadly, the party I would like to win is only to get the current party out of power. But that is not likely to happen.
So pessimism all around!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Gentlemen & Comrades
Gentle
Men
Gentlemen
hmm..
My friend Talia was visiting me and we went out. Sitting outside at a cafe with many passerbys to watch I spotted a friend of mine in the crowd. I would have called him over but this year I am a little worried my old friend wouldnt recognize me (funny how much my appearance has changed in a year, the last time I saw him). I asked our waiter, who seemed to know him as well, to stop drooling over my pretty friend and call him over.
Salih greeted Talia and I warmly and invited us to join him and his friends on the boat that they were hanging out in.
After we finished our drinks we walked over.
We got on the boat and the four guys immediately stood up trying to give us the best seats and give their hand for proper introduction. 1.
As the hours passed, I suggested that Talia and I leave before we missed the last bus home.
Batu insisted that he would drive us home (way out of his way). 2.
After an enjoyable evening with old and new friends we made our way off the boat. Kerim offered his hand to guide us off the boat. 3.
Salih even opened our door. 4.
I had to comment.
Sure, I have seen chivalry over and over again in Turkey. My friends (mostly guys) have always been nothing les than thoughtful gentlemen. No, their intentions didnt have alterior motives (most have my friends have been so for years).
Tonight in particular, I was a little culture shocked by this excessive kindness.
I still cant tell if it bothers me or not.
"What gentlemen you all are.." I chimed.
"This is how we were taught by our fathers. If we didnt take care of you, we would be uncomfortable. We take ownership upon ladies," replied Kerim.
THOUGH I dont think Kerim meant ownership like we his property, and the good intentions of his statement were lost in translation the patriachy is still obvious. I know he meant he wants to take care of us. Be good to us.
But cant I take care of myself?
Sure the staunch feminist in me finds chivalry outdated and nearly degrading.. But I hate to admit that I am a little flattered.
Perhaps it is the comfort of comfortable. I dont have to have my guard up at all times. Its a sweet comfort.
Still though, I cant bring myself to be okay with this.
The only way I can convince myself that I can accept this is special treatment is fooling myself that this is not so special. Even to each other these guys are overly hospitable. Or rather its not overly, just more than I am used to seeing. Any friendship here, cross gender or not, is exceedingly thoughtful.
Ok.. I think I am digressing from chivalry to Turkish comradery vs. American comradery. Another topic that I think should be mentioned.
I think I learned friendship in this country. I learned to be thoughtful, and to care. To truly care. To love a person and to show it. In America, I've always felt a cold energy in 90% of my friendships. A fakeness. A greed. Even a rush. People were quick claim a closeness that never was there in the first place. But the warmth of the people here is felt even from the intial handshake.
I think Arundhati Roy said it best when commenting on America in The Checkbook and the Cruise Missile: Conversations with Arundhati Roy.
Thanks for the assist Google Books.
Men
Gentlemen
hmm..
My friend Talia was visiting me and we went out. Sitting outside at a cafe with many passerbys to watch I spotted a friend of mine in the crowd. I would have called him over but this year I am a little worried my old friend wouldnt recognize me (funny how much my appearance has changed in a year, the last time I saw him). I asked our waiter, who seemed to know him as well, to stop drooling over my pretty friend and call him over.
Salih greeted Talia and I warmly and invited us to join him and his friends on the boat that they were hanging out in.
After we finished our drinks we walked over.
We got on the boat and the four guys immediately stood up trying to give us the best seats and give their hand for proper introduction. 1.
As the hours passed, I suggested that Talia and I leave before we missed the last bus home.
Batu insisted that he would drive us home (way out of his way). 2.
After an enjoyable evening with old and new friends we made our way off the boat. Kerim offered his hand to guide us off the boat. 3.
Salih even opened our door. 4.
I had to comment.
Sure, I have seen chivalry over and over again in Turkey. My friends (mostly guys) have always been nothing les than thoughtful gentlemen. No, their intentions didnt have alterior motives (most have my friends have been so for years).
Tonight in particular, I was a little culture shocked by this excessive kindness.
I still cant tell if it bothers me or not.
"What gentlemen you all are.." I chimed.
"This is how we were taught by our fathers. If we didnt take care of you, we would be uncomfortable. We take ownership upon ladies," replied Kerim.
THOUGH I dont think Kerim meant ownership like we his property, and the good intentions of his statement were lost in translation the patriachy is still obvious. I know he meant he wants to take care of us. Be good to us.
But cant I take care of myself?
Sure the staunch feminist in me finds chivalry outdated and nearly degrading.. But I hate to admit that I am a little flattered.
Perhaps it is the comfort of comfortable. I dont have to have my guard up at all times. Its a sweet comfort.
Still though, I cant bring myself to be okay with this.
The only way I can convince myself that I can accept this is special treatment is fooling myself that this is not so special. Even to each other these guys are overly hospitable. Or rather its not overly, just more than I am used to seeing. Any friendship here, cross gender or not, is exceedingly thoughtful.
Ok.. I think I am digressing from chivalry to Turkish comradery vs. American comradery. Another topic that I think should be mentioned.
I think I learned friendship in this country. I learned to be thoughtful, and to care. To truly care. To love a person and to show it. In America, I've always felt a cold energy in 90% of my friendships. A fakeness. A greed. Even a rush. People were quick claim a closeness that never was there in the first place. But the warmth of the people here is felt even from the intial handshake.
I think Arundhati Roy said it best when commenting on America in The Checkbook and the Cruise Missile: Conversations with Arundhati Roy.
Thanks for the assist Google Books.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
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