SAYING “HOŞÇA KAL”

The past few weeks have marked of the end of my time here in Turkey… and, to be honest, it’s freaking me out. It’s so hard to believe that a year has come and gone since I first opened my email and found a message from the State Department inviting me to hop on a plane to halfway across the world at their expense. I can’t even begin to describe the crazy ups and downs of this adventure or how much I have come to love this place and the people I have met. So, rather than wallowing in my angst, I’ve decided to channel all my emotions into constructing the following lists:

THE TOP THREE THINGS I WILL MISS MOST ABOUT TURKEY...

1. Friendly strangers

Turkey is a country where you can receive a homemade-dinner invitation from the woman sitting next to you on the bus and where strangers will go far out of their way to help you. Take, for example, any of the following scenarios:

•  I was deathly ill within the first few months of being in Balıkesir (kidney infection… don’t get one). My roommates managed to somehow get my feverish self to the hospital. Upon realizing that I did not speak Turkish, half the nursing staff was engaged in the act of Google Translating communication between the doctor and me, then ten minutes later, someone from the radiology department showed up and announced that he knows a little English and may be able to help. 
• My roommate and I visited our friends in the neighboring sea-side province of Çanakkale, and we all took a day trip to a vineyard island called Bozcaada off the coast. It was off-season for tourists, and the island was quiet, so we decided to rent a car to explore. The man who we rented the car from mentioned that his family was having a mangal party (Turkish barbeque) on a beach across the island and invited us to drop the car off there once our time was up and join in. We met the whole group and were treated with grilled lamb, fresh sucuk (garlic sausage), köy ekmeği (village bread), cheese, and free-flowing homemade red wine brought in a plastic water jug from their vineyard. 
• My other roommate and I traveled to the Southeastern part of Turkey during one of our weekend breaks. After one of our day trips, we rushed back to Diyarbakır, where we were staying, to see if we could make it to a Kurdish cultural center before it closed. The place served as a center for Kurdish seniors to sing traditional songs in order to preserve their culture.* We got there 30 minutes before the center closed, but upon asking, we learned the singing was done for the day. A group of men heard us asking, though, and invited us to drink tea and ask questions. One of the seniors then agreed to sing a few songs just for us, and treated us to the song in the video below (hence the “Americans” reference at the end :) Our Kurdish friends then proceeded to give us a broad education in the history of Diyarbakır and even invited us to a Kurdish wedding (where it’s culturally appropriate for anyone in the neighborhood come in off the street).

Diyarbakır Dengbej Evi from Kealy Jaynes on Vimeo.

*Check out more about the history of Kurds in Diyarbakır here. 

2. Food

Food is an art form and a point of pride in Turkish culture, and for good reason—it’s delicious. After a year of constantly talking about it, eating it, buying it straight from farmers at the pazar, I can’t imagine what I’m going to do without it. Thankfully, there have been a number of people who have invited me into their kitchens and shared their secrets with me— even if the only thing I can somewhat confidently prepare at this point is Turkish coffee.

3. These people:

• Çiğ köfte lady who knows my roommates and I by name and our orders by heart. No other çiğ köfte in Balıkesir can compare. And no one else believes me when I say I want “bol acılı” (lots of chili sauce).
• Baklava guy was one of our first friends in Balıkesir. We owe our education on and addiction to baklava to him… A debt I can never repay.
• Yusuf Bey who I buy flowers from at the market each Saturday. He always remembers me, and puts together the most beautiful bouquets, which then prompt everyone else in the market to comment or ask me where I got them from for the rest of the day. 
• United Fitness Clubs staff: The people who work at our gym and who I see more than just about anyone else in Balıkesir. I started as the crazy yabancı girl training for a half-marathon on the treadmill in the corner, and friendship blossomed from there. None of them speak English, yet the friendship and jokes shared here have been some of my favorite memories.
• Turkish Friends: The English-speakers who were so gracious to invite me into their homes, cultures, and friend groups. The non-English-speakers who are incredibly patient and creative in sustaining a friendship via my pathetically limited Turkish.
• Fulbright Friends: My roomies in Balıkesir, my friends across the country, and the endless inside jokes that originate from our shared yabancı perspective.
• Students/Colleagues: The crazies that made every day at work memorable, who put up with my pushing, challenging, disciplining, pantomiming, ridiculous facial expressions, and silly games for an entire year— and maybe learned some English in the process. And my work friends, who helped us through the system and who always made downtime in the teachers' room fun.

...AND THE TOP THREE THINGS I DIDN'T EXPECT TO MISS BUT PROBABLY WILL

1. The things that keep me on my toes

• Walking past the fish market and knowing exactly which pavement stones NOT to step on in order to avoid dousing my shoes with fish water… and sometimes still forgetting. 
• Still almost getting run over every other time I attempt to cross the street. 
• That physical whirring noise that I swear I hear in my brain whenever I am tired or distracted and someone starts speaking to me in Turkish: “…what… oh… response… words… English… no… Spanish… no… something in Turkish… hadi, tamam…” 

2. The smells

Çay, cigarettes, body odor thinly masked by the same deodorant smell that every Turkish man wears, döner on the street, limon kolonya, the weird musty smell that never seems to leave our apartment no matter how clean it is…

3. The sounds

The train blaring its horn outside my window at all hours of the night, the musical calls of vendors at the market or simit sellers on the street, hearing the same 3 Turkish pop or American top 40 songs everywhere, car horns...

And lastly, because it makes me sad to think about leaving Turkey, I'll end on a happy note… My motivation for returning (apart from friends and family, of course, and not surprisingly, all food-related):

FIVE THINGS I AM MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO ABOUT GOING HOME

1. California burritos

Anything giant with black beans, avocado, and multiple types of salsa

2. Coffee

Preferably from a snobby shop where the barista talks about bean origin, served in a cup that I can take with me that will take more than 10 minutes to drink, and with any number of vegan milk substitutes

3. Salad

As a main course. Topped with sprouts, nuts or avocado.

4. Trader Joe’s

Enough said.

5. Indian food/Thai food/Chinese food/Vietnamese food/Macn’cheese

Or basically any ethnically-diverse food option that I don’t have to cook myself.

HOLIDAYS FOR DAYSSS

It’s been a while, so I will attempt to blitz-recap the past few months, via the major holidays: 

THANKSGIVING

Ironically enough, this Thanksgiving was probably one of my favorites to date despite the fact that I was celebrating it as an expat. It started with a very complicated attempt to make apple pie to share with my adult night class and Turkish colleagues. 

The crust was rolled out with a jar and it was deep-deep dish given that the only round pan in the house was a bread pan, but it was a hit nonetheless. It in fact sparked a tradition within my night class of someone bringing food to share each week. 

Çok ekmek in true Turkish style

We also traveled to Afyon (a small town in central-western Turkey, literally named "Opium" until the official name was changed to Afyonkarahisar or “Opium Black Fortress” in 2004— which I still find hilarious) to get together and celebrate with the Fulbrighters in western Turkey. There were about 30 ETAs, Turkish friends, and one cat crammed into the Afyon group’s apartment, as you can see in this adorable family photo… There was even a turkey, bussed all the way in from Bursa, where a Fulbrighter had a student whose family farmed the birds. 

CHRISTMAS

Valuable English vocabulary

Christmas in Balıkesir was nice and relatively uneventful. I made my university students listen to (and sing) Christmas carols each week of December— the perfect English comprehension lesson, sure, but really just an entertaining excuse to hear a roomful of adolescent Turkish males impersonate Frank Sinatra. Hilarious. I had to say goodbye to my classes for the rest of the year, surprisingly sad for as sassy as they are. My A1 class wanted a group picture: 

Christmas Eve was the night of my last class with my adult speaking class, so as per tradition we had lots of food. And several even brought me gifts! They are my extended Turkish family. :)

I found a dusty, vintage ’70s cookie press in the back of our apartment and some good ole American green food dye from a box of mysterious St. Patrick’s Day paraphernalia (repurposed as Christmas decorations), so I made a massive batch of my family’s traditional Christmas cookies.

Christmas Day was especially chill, I went for a run, then spent the rest of the day watching Elf, sipping peppermint mochas, and skyping friends and family. 

 

NEW YEARS

After our last exam we all headed to Istanbul, where we met up with other Fulbright friends. We used the extended time to expand our Istanbul experience from the typical coffee-Mango-and-Shake-Shake haunts to include the usual touristy circuit. Istanbul definitely lives up to the hype as one of the most amazing cities in the world.

The Blue Mosque (Sultanahmet)

We were there through New Years, then parted ways for another month of adventures.

TATİLER

Our university had no classes between exams in December and the beginning of February, so for my tatil (or holiday) I spent some time in Ankara, and then went to Israel for a week. It was a much needed break from our everyday school schedule, and I even studied some Turkish (çok inanılmaz!).

View of Jerusalem Old City from the Mount of Olives

The week in Israel was a whirlwind and surprisingly far too short a time for such a tiny country. Apart from a few security fiascos in the airport (apparently living in a predominantly Muslim country raises red flags there... who knew?), the trip was incredibly smooth. I had a blast catching up with some Pepperdine friends who live in Tel Aviv, exploring Jerusalem, making new hotel friends, and attempting to absorb an overwhelming amount of sights of historical, spiritual, racial, and political importance. By far my favorite part of the trip was traveling to the West Bank, where I was completely floored by the injustices I saw and also inspired by the Palestinians I met and the stories they told.

EVDE

Now, I am evde (at home) and slowly trying to get back into the swing of things with our new university schedule, exciting new gym down the street (stories to come... be excited...), and the scary spectre of future job applications on the horizon.

More updates to come.

Görüşürüz!

WINTER WONDERLAND

This is a story of a one little Californian who journeyed to a place called Balıkesir, Turkey and encountered a phenomenon she had never experienced before— a thing called winter. Sure, she had hiked through some snow and visited the fabled East Coast in the dead of slushy February a few times in years past, but winter had never been quite so close to her backyard.

Then one night, she witnessed snow falling softly on her way home from work, and went to bed with this sight out her window:

Only to wake up to this:

Literally overnight the surrounding city had been thrown into the dead of winter, and the poor girl had no idea what to do. Luckily she had caring roommates— all East-coasters well-versed in the art of winter— who patiently undertook teaching her how to function in the snow. Roommates who asked insightful questions like, “Is this made of wool or polyester?” when she attempted to pick out winter clothes, and who lent her functional boots when she realized her shoes were as unprepared as she was.

The girl was also blessed with sweet students, like those in her adult night class who advised her where to buy Turkish Winter Tea and who brought her beautiful woolen gloves from the handmade market. 

And slowly but surely the girl started to learn important life skills for the long days ahead— like how to walk over ice without falling on her face, how to layer and unlayer and relayer and unlayer clothes, and most importantly, how to enjoy the beauty of the snow.

Now at peace with the weather outside, she is (almost) fully prepared to hunker down and spend the cold dreary days crocheting yet another hat or scarf and drinking delicious salep (imagine hot Turkish horchata) next to their tiny fake Christmas tree*. Happily ever after.   

*Said Christmas tree was found tucked into the back of the water-heater closet— one of the many mysterious items left over from past Fulbrighters. Its lone decoration is a strand of glittery thread from the yarn nook we frequent alongside a billion other Turkish teyzes. The saleswoman was sweet enough to give it to us for free because she was so confused about why we were attempting to buy only 3 metres of yarn.

UPDATES: fun running and salsa dancing— free time in Turkey

In the interest of not falling tooooo behind with blogging, here are a few odds and ends from my life these days:

"Ellerine sağlık"

 Turkish saying literally meaning ‘health for your hands’ said to the cook after a shared meal or gift of food.

After jealously drooling over the billions of pumpkin/fall/spiced baked goods posted by friends to Facebook and Pinterest, I was overjoyed to find that pumpkins had indeed popped up at our local farmer’s market one weekend. They were massive and rock hard, but they were pumpkins nonetheless. So I bought a kilo (they just busted out a saw and handed me a massive chunk), and then spent the next few days contemplating how exactly I was going to make pumpkin bread from an actual, raw chunk of pumpkin in the tiny toaster box posing as our oven.

It turned out better than I expected, and I brought some to share with my Turkish colleagues. Who were confused by the idea of “pumpkin bread.”

This exchange:

“If it is bread, in Turkey, it is not sweet.”

“…I’m not sure why it is called bread, come to think of it. We have banana bread too.”

“Banana?! In bread??”

Turned into this exchange:

“Ah, it is not bread. It is more like cake…”

“Mmm, it is like carrot cake!”

 

Fulbrighters Are Fit

A few weekends ago, a big group of Fulbright teachers from across Turkey all went to Istanbul for the Istanbul Marathon. Several ran various lengths of the race— most either the 10k or the 8k “Fun Run.” The Turkish Fulbright commission even jumped in and helped organize, giving us all blue “Fulbright” t-shirts, and Fun Run registration for those of us (like me) who missed initial sign-up.

Advertised as a “trans-continental marathon,” all three distance courses involved running from Asia to Europe via the Bosphorus Bridge. The Fun Run ended up being more of a Fun Walk/crowded-shuffle at times, but it was amazing nonetheless. Everyone was packed together, waving Turkish flags, chanting and cheering, eating simit and drinking tea, and stopping for numerous selfies over the strait. The energy was crazy, and it was a great way to spend the weekend catching up with Fulbright friends from all over.

"BIR IKI ÜÇ DÖRT, BIR IKI ÜÇ DÖRT"

So one day Sophia and Lisa went to get their hair trimmed, and the stylist who cut their hair happened to speak great English. Friendship was born. We later found out that this same friend’s secondary job is teaching Latin dance class at the “American Culture Center” in Balıkesir. Thus last Friday night, we found ourselves in a small room packed with other young Turks learning to tango and salsa, tripping over our feet, and counting out the beats in Turkish.

"Öğretmenler Günü" 

 

photo credit: the instagram queen herself, Lisa Hoca.

Today (Sunday) was Teacher’s Day in Turkey, and our department organized a group meal at a nice restaurant outside the city. The menu was fixed and included: ayran, soup, bread, köfte (lamb meatballs), chicken, rice, salad, and dessert (höşmerim and some sort of peynirli tatlı or cheese dessert).  (Note that “nice meal” in Turkey is synonymous with meat and that french fries are served with almost everything.)

SNAPSHOTS: becoming more turkish.

"The first thing you will learn about Turkey is to drink tea, and tea, and tea..."

-Fatih hocam (my boss, a boss)

***

Sophia and I were vicarious and serendipitous guests at our neighbor's wedding, which took place outside our apartment building for about 45 minutes...

***

We also discovered the Saturday pasar (the most gigantic farmer's market I've ever seen!), which is conveniently right across the street from our apartment...

After filling our refrigerator with fresh fruits, veggies, and cheese, we decided to make dinner together for the first time. 

Aww, happy domestic Balıkesir family... :)

AMBIGUITY

a gorgeous sunset in Balıkesir, near my apartment

 

"You need to help them learn to manage the ambiguity!"

The regional language officer from the U.S. branch in Ankara was an enthusiastic woman with a booming voice and commanding presence that lent an air of the dramatic to her insistence on an English-only classroom.

"There will always be a time in learning a language when it seems a bit overwhelming and incomprehensible. Your job as a teacher is to create space for students to dwell in that ambiguity and to be okay with it as they learn."

***

Turkey is by far one of the most fascinating countries I have ever been to. It is at once both European and Middle Eastern, secular and Muslim, modern and traditional. In fact, the more I learn about the country and its culture, the more I see this play out in the history (NATO alliances and the ongoing EU acceptance debate, for example), language (which draws on French, Arabic, and Farsi), and current events (relations with the Kurdish population, recent political riots and the ongoing Syria conversation).

At the end of our 10 day orientation— in which expert after expert, Turkish, Americans, historians, politicians, and government officials all endeavored to explain different facets of this complex country— I was only left with that strange feeling that I knew less than when I started. It seems that Turkey, in many ways, is a country full of incomprehensible paradoxes.

It is striking to me (all theories of L1 in language teaching aside), how many areas of life likewise dwell in ambiguity.

Turkey is not alone. I see similar themes in the U.S. as it struggles to reconcile its own schizophrenic identity in every aspect of policy, from immigration to abortion to foreign affairs.

I see this in my friends and I as we have graduated and struggle to move forward into the ambiguous void of the future. We have 50 interests and 500 options. We feel conflicting loyalties to 5 different hometowns and at the same time none at all. We have no choice but to navigate the unknown.

Likewise in faith I am forever struck by the beautiful and often frustrating mystery that shrouds the intersection between the knowable and the impossibility of ever fully knowing. Or even the ongoing struggle to walk the middle ground between what St. Augustine expressed as, “one soul which is torn between conflicting wills.”

Now, as I strive to quickly settle into my new host city, the word ambiguity has never been quite so apt. Preparation to start teaching on Monday has so far consisted of being told to stick to a textbook that I won't receive until hours before my first class, in a classroom I have never been to, at a time still unknown to me. It seems that managing ambiguity is more akin to a way of life in Turkey than it is any particular teaching model. Thus with all due respect to the RLO in Ankara, at this point I think my students will likely be better at it than I am. I will however gladly take her advice and learn to enjoy the ride. :)

ANKARA

The view from the citadel in Old Ankara.

WHY TURKEY?

People ask me all the time “Why Turkey?”

I could burn hundreds of words trying to explain how I narrowed down the list of Fulbright countries, regions, statistics, and opportunities, but in reality that would only give a portion of the story. 

What I really wish is that I could invite others into way my dad and grandparents have excited over the opportunity to share a portion of their past with me— their memories of those few years living outside Ankara in the late 1960s while my grandfather worked for Mobile Oil. The clipped newspaper articles about Turkey mailed by my granddad, my Nana’s home cooked meal from her old Turkish recipes, and my dad’s shared memories of junior high antics and reactions to life in the Middle East.

Stories of eating handful upon handful of pistachios in class and shoving the shells under desks so that “every time you moved the furniture or pushed a book in underneath, all the shells would come clattering out like the payout of a slot machine.”

Or of driving a VW bus full of blond children across the countryside and being mistaken for Germans.

Or of the brief and tragic saga of the family pet lamb that imprinted on the family pet dachshund.

I can’t wait to come back with stories of my own to contribute. :)