Ayvalik

Background:

Ayvalik is a summer town. In the winter it has a population of nearly 40,000 but in the summer season it spikes up to maybe 200,00 people. My grandmother stays in this coastal town year round.

My ancestors came to this area of Anatolia from the Greek island Mytilini (aka Lesbos... Yes, Lesbos. Lesbians. The ancient Greek poet Sappho was born on the island and famously remembered for her themes of passion for both genders.) Mytilini used to be inhabited by Turks and Ayvalik was inhabited by Greeks, but in 1923 there was a population exchange. Makes sense right? Turks live in Turkey (The Turkish Republic was founded in 1923 at the Treaty of Laussane as a successor to the fallen Ottoman Empire) and the Greeks live in Greece. Here in Ayvalik, you can still see many remnants of its ex-inhabitants like broken down monasteries or beautiful old Greek styled homes (like the one my mother grew up in). Even today there are people in this town that know the old language that belonged to this area and there are ferry boats from Greece that come to town on market days.

The reason why I explain all this is because the history of the exchange is prevalent in Ayvalik's society today. My family is considered "Ayvalikli" meaning belonging to the town. From this town. My grandfather's ancestors came from Mytilini and obtained acres of olive trees. A rich man with an olive oil manufacturing business, he left his company to his four sons, the youngest being my Dede (Grandpa). Unfortuanately, they couldn't keep the business running and it closed around 76'/77'ish.

The society here is divided. The declining bourgeoisie and the nouvelle ... not necessarily riche but the nouvelle. The noobs. The ones that dont belong in this town. Their ancestors didnt come from Crete or Mytilini. Instead, they moved here from other parts of Turkey like Ankara. The Ayvalikli are small society who hold onto family's reputations. Over the past years I have learned it is not necessarily important to know my new friend's name but instead to know his/her father/grandfather's name because that will be the first thing my family asks me.

The small town feel can be a double edged sword. On the positive side, I feel safe here. Every few steps I can see a familiar face, but that same face can turn to the phone just as I pass by and give my grandmother a report of what I childish mischeively I've been up to (its happened).

It is nice to belong to a small circle but the gossip is absurd. The rumors that rome these cobbled stones streets are nearly pathetic. Perhaps they may be true, but I dont think I need to go into detail about the downside of gossip.

"Did you know that there are only 5,000 genuine Ayvalikli people left here?" my grandmother brought up over lemonade at my great-aunt's last night. I bit my tongue in frustration. "What does it matter?!" I wanted to scream. The more I learn about this close-closed circle of people with familiar last names labeled all throughout town, the more upset I get about the pretentions of my family. I asked my grandmother trying to mask my disgust, "Then what am I?" She replied, "You're more Ayvalikli than these other people coming here." But how is that possible? I am just a visitor. I question whether I am Turkish or American on the daily but now I have been stamped with Ayvalikli, a town I spend only my summers in. This pompous group is slowly dying one by one and they grip onto something they feel lets them own this beautiful scenic slice of the country... but there is something about it that just irks me. Irks me very much. And though my grandfather's name will only greet me with kind regards in here, I wonder if I even have an identity. It doesnt matter though, I am Yener's granddaughter.

Whatever, I'm going to the beach.

Time to Pretend

When in Konya I realized I had to eat. I was off doing other things and I only had 20 minutes to get a meal in. Konya is a really Islamic/traditional city and I didnt really blend in well with my Zeyenp dress, my Zeynep earings, and my Zeynep boots. I didnt blend in because it seemed like I was the only person with knees or hair in the city.
Anyway, I say this because women dont seem to go into many cafe sort of places here. There are mostly mens club kind of cafes. Strictly men. And I dont know if they would have denied service to a woman.. but trust me, I dont think a woman would go in any of these places.

But I didnt have time to sit down at a restaurant.

So I walked into one.

Oh shit. I panicked. Eyes on me. I messed up. Not badly but a Turkish woman wouldnt make this cultural mistake..

So before I could prove myself as an independent woman or try to change traditional social orders... I did something that required less self-confidence.

I pretended I didnt know Turkish.

Just another tourist.

Trust me, I didnt look like I belonged in this town so it didnt take much to convince them..

"Um... Hello!"

I walked up to the counter..

"Hi. I dont have much time and need something quick to eat." (In English)

"Ughh. One minute! (One minute is a cultural joke about the Prime Minister because its bascially the only thing he knows to say in English)"

He got one of the tea servers who had very good English to help me out. I went on pretending I was a tourist that didnt understand...

Got a toasted sandwich and tea on the house as I waited. The one guy sat with me and we chatted in English.

I would hear the other workers talk to one another.

Its funny what people say so freely when they think you cant understand you..

Trippin'

I just got back from an action packed 3 toured trip. Everyone else on the trip was AT LEAST 30 years older than me and I went alone so that was.. interesting. Still enjoyed myself loads. Saw amazing things. I cant really go into too much detail of everything because it was a lot so I'll try to break it down.

-Leave Aegean Coast town of Ayvalik ("home")
- First place we went was Hacıbektaş - A town in central Anatolia named after the Islamic mystic/thinker/philosopher who lived from 1209-1271. He lived there. His museum is there. Eh. I was a little unimpressed but the mosque was pretty all right I guess. Theres pretty much nothing in that town. Moving on.

-Cappadocia. I dont really know how to describe this place. Its a whole different world. No picture will ever do it justice because it has to impossible to capture something so... grandiose? So... out of this world? ... with just a snapshot.

Cappadocia is packed with so much historical and geological .. stuff? Its crazy! Tim! You have to go! I have to steal from wiki to explain it.
So here:
The Cappadocia region is largely underlain by sedimentary rocks formed in lakes and streams, and ignimbrite deposits erupted from ancient volcanoes approximately 9 to 3 million years ago, during the late Miocene to Pliocene epochs.The rocks of Cappadocia near Göreme eroded into hundreds of spectacular pillars and minaret-like forms. The volcanic deposits are soft rocks that the people of the villages at the heart of the Cappadocia Region carved out to form houses, churches and monasteries. Göreme became a monastic center between 300—1200 AD.

Anddd thennn people went and lived in these rocks.
-Cave labyrinths. Super complex and scary cave labyrinths. The walls breathed and there was such a smart system of air circulation that it's insane.

- Also! Cave churches and chapels! Like painted scences from the Bible of everything you know. Pantocrator/Deesis and the Transfiguration and Crucifiction... There was one that I went to that blew my mind. I was alone in this fairly large church with frescoes made of lapis lazuli that dates back to early 10th century. But the color is still so bold! This one was called the Buckle (Tokali) Church. Mind-blowing, honestly. You couldnt take pictures in the churches though :/

- Also went hiking down Ihlara Valley (which was beautiful) and there were churches in caves as well (not as cool as the ones in the open air museum) that were from made by early Christians escaping Roman soldiers.

- Ate in a restaurant inside a cave... pretty neat. I ate the most delicious meat I think I've ever had. I'm also pretty sure it was prepared in a terra cotta amphora of some sort.. No idea how.

- Wine tasting. Self-explanatory.

-On the way back we stopped in Konya, the final home of Rumi. Went to the museum/mosque and saw his mausoleum. I was in awe. So ornate and intricate. Blew my mind.

And now, "home"

Pictures will come sometime soon. Its hard to even understand what I am saying without some sort of imagery. And I know this post is really scattered but so was my trip. So much history to explain with each of these that I couldnt possibly cover...


So glad I went. Being a history major and visiting places like these just reconfirm over and over again how much I love what I've decided to do. Sometimes I forget back in America because its never really in my face, but here it's everywhere.
.. Now how can I import my goons here to make my life perfect?...

What Tea Means

Breakfast is a pretty set up. Mornings consist of a table spread with breads, feta cheese, sucuk (like beef sausage.. But not at all), black "Greek" olives, green olives, homemade jams, butter, honey, cucumbers and tomatoes (maybe with olive oil, maybe without), and of course çay (tea). Çay is the opium of this country. It is morning, day, and night. It is at home, at the office, and offered everywhere (even at the gas station). The funny contrast I see between çay here and tea in America is not only the appearance, and perhaps not even just the vast difference in the amount of consumption, or even the preparation, but it is the gender role it plays.

Çay is served in small tulip shaped glasses in a saucer most often with blue or red surrounding the interior edges. It has the figure of a woman. It is a lovely little drink with a near deep burgundy color that is near sexy. But although I personally believe that çay has all the powers of the feminine mystique, I also see the masculinity of the man that drinks it. Yes, everyone in this country drinks it. Men, women, and everything in between. But when I see old men at their coffee houses (Turkish coffee is an entirely different matter) with their holy beads in one hand and their fingers gripping the edge of their hot, dark, bitter, çay in the other.. I see a man loving the beauty of a woman. As an ultra-mannish man sips on his sugarless, dark çay (bitter to prove his masculinity), I see a romance.

Though this trendy food revolution that is spreading Whole Foods throughout the states, I don’t believe that the obsession with Yogi Tea, or Darjeeling imported tea, or anything else that these new age hippies claim to feed your soul and cure your mind or train your dog, can compare to çay.

Because, what compares to making love?

My Friend Ali

In this small summer town the season hasnt started. Schools in Turkey typically end around mid-June so this place is silent and still. None of my regular friends have arrived yet but on Facebook on a dull night I saw that my friend Ali was in town. I immediately jumped at the opportunity to see him.

The reason Ali, now 26-years-old, is here unlike the rest of our friends is because he recently finished university and even more recently finished his mandatory military service. In Turkey, men have a to serve in the military for 18 months if they didnt finish university and 6 if they had. It is a cultural understanding here that whenever a soldier finishes his service he will forever be talking about his time there. I was pretty excited to meet up with my friend because I knew he'd have stories and Ali is a talented talker if there is such a thing. He is a great conversationalist and the best story teller, he could probably embellish a tale about a snail.


So we did the usual, grabbed some beers at the mini-market (and by mini I mean the size of Shannen's closet) and walked down to the seaside. After I told him about my typical first year experience at a typical American university, and after light gossip about what the rest of our friends have been up to, and even lighter conversation on the coming elections that we both are hopeless about we warmed up enough for him to tell his 6 month experience.

I dont think I've ever laughed at one's misery to hard before. He told me about how early he would get up, his daily chores, and how he had to shave every single day. He then explained his special responsibilities. Ali landed a spot as a sort of secretary but with much more stress and responsibility. It was his job to organize security for the routes the country's most important politicians would be taking. Instead of the usual physical labor that comes with being a soldier, Ali's job was more mentally straining and also required more hours out of the day. Unlike his mates that would be the actual security that Ali would have to organize, he would work 12 hours a day instead of 6-8 hours.

Then he told me about the aburd details that came with his job. Ali had to answer every phonecall that came through. He told me about the strange calls he would often receive.
Ring.
Ali - Yes, Commander
Commander- Ali Soldier, what day is it today?
Ali - It is Monday, sir.
Commander - Okay. That is all.
Click.
Ring.
Ali - Yes, Commander
Commander - Ali Soldier, what day will it be tomorrow?
Ali - It will be Tuesday, sir.
Commander - Okay. That is all.
Click.
When he explained this part I wondered if the Commander had heard Rebecca Black's single hit this year...
When my friend explained this to me I didn't believe it. He had to be kidding. Why would some commander waste his and another's time like that? But Ali contested that it was, unfortuanately, no joke. He recalled the worst of them all.
Ring.
Ali - Yes, Commander
Commander - Ali Soldier, can you name me all the dates of Mondays in the month of April?
Ali - Errr.. 1,8,15,...
Commander - Thank you Soldier.
Click. And he said before his hand even released the phone RING
Ali - Yes, Commander
Commander - Ali Soldier, could you name me all the dates for Tuedays in the month of April?
Ali (furious and frustrated at this point) - 2, 9, 16...
Commander - Thank you, that is all.

Some sick joke, right? Bro, just add a day.
After 170 days he is finally home happy to be back. But now a job, wife, and a new life are expected of him.

Here we go

A few people have suggested that I create a blog about my summer in Turkey so I guess I will.

Where and When:

- I am spending a month in Ayvalik, a small town on the coast of the Aegean.

- I leave Ayvalik for Istanbul and will be there from July 1st- August 16th. I will be interning at Rahmi Koc Museum.

Also, I dont really know how the structure of this blog .. so I'm just going to see how this goes

Also, for pictures many of you know that I dont use digital. Once I get them developed I will put them up.

Also, I like the word also. You've been warned.