Istanbul Opportunities

Turkish Coffee, photo by Claudia Turgut, "A Seasonal Cook in Turkey"

Goodness, It has been nearly two weeks since I posted anything. Partly because of the long holiday we have been on, and partly because I am gradually finding a life! Last week, I spent the whole of Wednesday at a PTA Coffee Morning, followed by a board meeting. I absolutely hate walking into a brand new group of people, and striking up a conversation. I would rather eat dirt. But, in order to have comfortable old friends, you must make new ones first. So I grit my teeth, put a smile on my face, and utter all the friendly banalities that I can think of, just to get the ball rolling. In fact, I met several interesting women, with whom I exchanged email and phone numbers. I went home exhausted, relieved that it was over, but very glad I had forced myself to go.

The next day, I became a card carrying member of the IWI, which stands for the International Women of Istanbul. It is open to any woman living in Istanbul who has a passport from another country. This is the one organization that every ex-pat woman depends upon when she is over seas. It is usually well organized and professionally run, with programs and events open to all members. It was held at a luxurious hotel downtown, and was basically a meet and greet, but with lots of tables to visit that had various groups to join or services of interest to ex-pats. I signed up to work on the St. Andrews Day Ball (Dec. 5), joined the Art Lovers of Istanbul, and a knitting for charity group. I took home a glossy, color magazine, filled with events to attend in October. Each month, another magazine will be hand delivered, offering the next months activities. October offerings include, a "Turkish Wine Tasting" night (I'll sign us up for that one) a Turkish Cooking class, Touring the markets, or having a Bobbi Brown makover. I can see there will be amble opportunities to get involved. After the meeting was over, a group of us met on the patio overlooking the Bosphorus for lunch. By the end of the day, overcome with enthusiasm for my new found friends, I issued an impromptu invitation to three families for a "Seker Bayram" party to be held at our house.

Most ex-pat societies are pretty welcoming; In Istanbul, I have felt genuinely embraced. What a blessing. The tension inside me is gradually beginning to unwind.

Week End

Our weekend was spent quietly at home. On Friday, Jim called to alert me that the office was closing early, as more heavy rain was predicted, and the threat of more flooding was eminent. As his driver succinctly put it, "Sir, Disaster is coming!" Jim was home by 3:30, and as it appeared to be no weekend for sightseeing, we told our driver he would not be needed.

Jim had plenty of work to keep him busy, Devlin found movies to watch on his computer, and I did some light housework, read and watched some TV. I am always fascinated to channel surf when I'm in a different country. You just never know what new gem you are going to stumble upon.

We have a few English speaking channels. The ever reliable BBC, CNN Business (Bor-ing!) and Al-Jazeera. I am quite impressed with Al-Jazeera. Here I always thought that it was a terrorist news organization, and yet I find they do a super job of covering the news in the Middle East and Africa. Obviously, their reporters are allowed in to places that our American reporters are unable to go, so yesterday I watched the homecoming party for the Iraqi that threw his shoe at President Bush. And believe it or not, I watched a program on BBC called "Equestrian World",  and learned all about the newest star in the world of dressage. There's a program you would be hard pressed to find in America.

There is one channel that delivers a mishmash of different western programs, all in English, with Turkish subtitles. Devlin and I watched "Merlin", "My name is Earl" and my new personal favorite, the eternal "Dr. Who". This show has really been updated since the last time I saw it sometime back in 1975. Great effects, quirky plots and witty writing compared to standard TV fare. Even though all the shows are broadcast in English on this station, all the commercials are in Turkish. My favorite has something to do with a soccer team; I'm not sure what they are selling, but the theme music is catchy, and I find myself humming along when it comes on.

Jim caught Martha Stewart's show yesterday morning before I was up. Like many western shows, it was dubbed into Turkish. He found it pretty amusing that she was preparing a great big ham dinner. Not having found any pork products here yet, I think that episode probably didn't make the recipe box of many local viewers. 

Luckily, Disaster was averted. We did get rain, but not enough to flood anywhere. By Sunday the weather had cleared, and this morning Devlin returned to school. Life is returning to normal.

Flood

When living in paradise, it's always a shock when the snake rears it's ugly head. The recent heavy rains have caused flash floods here in Istanbul. Over 30 people have died, and several more are unaccounted for. Because we live so far away from the damage, and are so new to the area, we are using internet news agencies to give us the news. In-depth coverage is hard to come by--at least, in English. But the pictures I’ve seen are horrific. From the accounts I have read, rapid urban growth seems to be at the root of the problem.

About 15 years ago, Istanbul held two million residents. Today the population is estimated to be around fifteen to eighteen million. Most of those inhabitants came from the countryside, and chose to build houses or businesses wherever there was a vacant spot, with no regard for whether or not it was legal. After the buildings were completed, the local government was petitioned to put in the required infrastructure. They complied, so after the fact, sewer, water lines and roads were added. Sounds crazy, but that seems to be standard operating procedure around here.

In the grab for land, many river basins were filled with roads and housing flats. So when we were hit with such unrelenting rain Monday and Tuesday, and the rivers spilled over, flooding was the natural result. In the newspapers today, there has been lots of finger pointing. I’m not sure who the last person pointed at will be, but there is plenty of blame to go around.

Our complex at Istinye is built on higher ground; it’s actually quite hilly here, and we are fairly high up on the hill. We are right around the corner from the American Embassy. I figure those guys always do there homework when it comes to picking out a safe place, and indeed, someone told me yesterday that Istinye was selected because it was considered earthquake safe. Hopefully that is one disaster that will never befall this city.

Birthday!

Friday was Jim's birthday. Guess what the best gift of the day was? He got a HOT shower! As did both Devlin and I. What a great start to the day. And with the water heater problem fixed, I was able to meet for coffee with a lovely woman from our complex. She has been living here since January and generously shared all that she had discovered in the past 9 months. Among other things, I now know where to go to take Turkish lessons, where the closest dry cleaners are, and most importantly, where get my hair done. Just spending time chatting face to face with another woman improved my whole day.

Jim called later in the afternoon, to see if I would like to go out to dinner. One of the fellows from work had asked us out to celebrate his birthday. Always eager to try a new restaurant, I assented, and put my cooking plans on hold. Since the birthday boy got to pick the venue, Jim chose a place called "Dukkan" (correctly spelled with two dots over the u)

I know now why my husband, the carnivore, chose it. It was a meat lover's paradise. It has gained a reputation for being the premiere steak house in Istanbul, but oddly enough is located in a decidedly low rent neighborhood. Originally a butcher shop, it is now a very small restaurant, with butcher block tables and benches for community seating. As you enter, there is a refrigerator case filled with dry aged beef. Once a table is procured, you select your cut of meat, tell them how you want it grilled, and they take care of the rest. Nearly 8:45 at night, the restaurant was crowded and there didn't appear to be any open tables, so the two of us stood and waited with a glass of wine. We didn't think much about it, since Friday nights in Houston are much the same way. However, they take their hospitality seriously in Turkey, and It didn't take too long before a waiter found us a seat by shooing a couple of guys down a bench. Our host joined us shortly afterwards, and a bottle of South American red was brought to the table along with a large bowl of green salad. Olive oil, vinegar and a thick pomegranate juice are provided as dressing.

The first course consisted of a platter of dried beef prosciutto, piled atop a butcher block serving dish. The men dug in, but I held back, wanting to save my appetite for the main course. I was talked into trying a piece, however, and it was thinly shaved and flavorful, but honestly, it seemed to be something that would taste best as a sandwich. The next course presented were the veal link sausages. Slightly flavored with fennel and browned to perfection, they were absolutely delicious. Once the sausages were cleared away, along came the meat patties. I'm not sure if it was beef or lamb, but they too were seasoned perfectly, and were scrumptious. However, I was really starting to fill up. Three different meat courses before the main dish will do that to you. Despite my sated appetite, our Porterhouse steaks were brought out shortly, each one presented alone on a fresh slab of butcher block, perfectly seared and sizzling. Accompanying the steaks were smashed potatoes--small white potatoes that had been oven roasted whole, slightly caramelized, then put on a platter and smashed with a spatula, so they resembled thick potato discs. My stomach was groaning by the time I had eaten half my steak, so I let Jim finish it--which he did with no problem.

But the meat courses were not quite finished. After removing our plates, and letting our stomachs rest for a little while, a dessert meat dish was presented. Who knew there was such a thing? I think my mouth dropped open in amazement as a plate was placed in front of me that contained thick piece of grilled sausage, atop a slice of toasted french bread, By this time, there was no way I could have possibly eaten one more piece of meat. Our host assured me that it would settle my palate. However I had grave doubts about that, and after taking a tiny bite, shoved it over to Jim. He showed no compunction about gobbling both of ours down.

Our dinner was outstanding, and the conversation flowed, as only it can when one is enjoying fine food and wine. Our host jumped up and went to the bar, returning with a grappa for me and a bottle of cognac for the two of them. Thank goodness the bottle was only a third full, because dinner wasn't over until the cognac was gone. Oh, I forgot! And yet one more course was brought to the table. This time it wasn't meat. It was a slab of dark chocolate--and entire slab, about the size of my laptop and twice as thick. With a big old carving knife stuck into it, we were able to chip off and eat as much as we desired. If only they had brought it first! I had a piece, but only a modest one. I was just too full to even contemplate eating more.

It was midnight before we finished, and we had long been the last patrons in the place. Unlike Houston, there was no push to get us to leave; no glaring waiters, no one running a vacuum cleaner near our toes. Just a tired but patient staff, wishing us well as we finally left, reminding us to come again. Which we will assuredly do, anytime another carnivore comes to visit.

Hot Water, part 2

I really hate to revisit a subject, but in fact, life without a working water heater is dominating my life. Since last Monday, I have had a repairman in every day (except for the weekend of course) and we still don't have hot water. On Monday, I had two different sets of repairmen in fact. One set to take out the heater, and another set to haul it off to the shop. Yesterday, it arrived back at our flat, with the assurance that all was well. Thirty minutes later, a repairman arrived to re- install it.

I will admit to being a bit nervous during that installation. He had tinkered for more than an hour, when I began to hear a strange noise coming from the kitchen. A noise that sounded rather like a pressure cooker hitting full steam. A few minutes later, the smell of gas seeped into the living room. “Oh my God, I thought, I have flown 3000 miles from home, just to die in an gas explosion." The smell of gas didn't dissipate, and I tried to figure out how far I would have to run in order to escape certain death. Surely if my water heater blows, it will take down at least my building, but will there be a domino effect? Will it take down the row of buildings surrounding us? Will it reach my only safe haven, Istinye Park Mall? Having no answers to those questions, and reminding myself that my imagination was working overtime, I forced myself to remain calm, opened the patio door and continued reading my book. A few minutes later, I heard the shrill and relentless sound of an alarm in the distance. Hoping that it was a smoke alarm in another building, I opened my front door, only to hear the sound rachet up several hundred decibels. Great. Now at least I know what the alarm for gas leaks sounds like.

I kept an eye on the repairman, figuring that if he yelled or ran, I would follow. Some things just don't need to be translated. Unbelievably, he stayed calmly working another half hour or so. I continued to hear scary sounds & smells, but he called me into the kitchen a while later and between a mix of Turkish and sign language, explained that it was fixed, and to keep the windows open for awhile. (actually, that didn't need translation either, as the smell of gas was still pretty strong) I was delighted and excited to find the water pouring into the sink was steaming hot. I thanked him kindly, and sent him on his way around 2:30 (oh wait, I mean 14:30) By 17:30, the hot water was cold once again, and I was confronted once again with the bleak realization of cold morning showers for all.

So I am again sitting at home, waiting for service. In fact, much of my time in Turkey so far, has been spent in waiting. I am anxious to get this water heater problem taken care of, so I can get out and actually have some experiences worth blogging about. In the meantime, I will practice my Turkish so I’ll be ready.

By the way, I spoke to Emily this morning, and she has had hot water for 3 or 4 days running now. Last week, the contractor came by and repaired some holes in the a/c ductwork that squirrels caused (at least we hope it was squirrels) I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he fixed it, because I have this strange idea that somehow our fates our linked in this no hot water situation. If she has hot water, then surely I can’t be too far behind.