Spring Fun Night

The PTA Spring Fun Night was held last Saturday evening. I had volunteered to be on the planning committee back in January, but because of bad weather, the committee didn't meet till mid February. As usual, the group was short on volunteers, and long on ideas. I offered to handle ticket sales, thinking I would sit there and collect tickets the night of the event. Much to my dismay, the job entailed all the logistics of pre-selling tickets to a two campus community distributed all over the city of Istanbul. It also meant dealing with large sums of money and keeping track of numbers--jobs to which I am not at all well suited. But! I had wanted to get involved in something that would get me out of the house and working with people, and this fit the bill nicely.

When I take on a project, I love the planning part. I enjoy getting down on paper, how to get from point A to point B, creating forms, making lists, and even writing letters. I hate the worry that every new project brings. Have I done it the right way, will it be successful, have I forgotten something....all those niggling worries and doubts that plague us all in the wee hours of the night. Added to that, was the fact that the event was hitting it's stride about the time I had visitors, and was grinding to completion the week I went home to Houston.

I arrived back in Istanbul 3 days before the event, and hit the ground running. Like every volunteer event I've ever been concerned with, the last 48 hours are filled with last minute details and disasters that need to be addressed, and I could hardly keep up with the phone calls and emails that were flying back and forth between committee members all day Friday. On Saturday, Jim and I arrived early to set up. Wait, I should say, we traveled together, but when Jim took one look at the mass of confusion in the room, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and quickly disappeared downstairs. I couldn't blame him. One Turkish woman was directing several workmen in hanging swathes of tulle all over the room. A German family was dutifully blowing up helium balloons and tying them to resemble flowers. Others were hauling up crates of silent auction items to be displayed, and amidst it all, the service help were setting up tables, glassware and cutlery for the evening. With only three hours before the guests were to arrive, I couldn't imagine how everything was going to get done in time.

But of course, it did. The evening was billed as a fundraiser, and the 85 TL each price tag started the profits. However, it included a full course buffet, with unlimited cocktails---the only PTA I have ever been connected with that allowed alcohol. Along with the silent auction, there were ongoing raffle tickets being sold for on the spot prizes, bingo, a "Name that Picture" game, and a quiz night sheet--which every man playing used their high tech phones with which to google the answers! Later, an oldies band provided great music for dancing.

The night was an unqualified success! Despite the cat fight I had to break up at the silent auction table, everyone seemed to have a great time, as it was well into the wee hours of the night before the party broke up. I don't think Jim nor I have had so much fun since we came to Istanbul. The taxi we took home dropped us off at the gate and the guards took one look at us and decided we were in no shape to walk up the hill, so they put us on the back of their golf cart and drove us. The size of my headache on Sunday was in direct proportion to the amount of fun I had the night before.

On Wednesday we had a committee meeting, where I learned that we made somewhere in the neighborhood of $20,000 profit! But even more meaningful to me, was the warmth with which I was greeted by everyone, and the feeling of camraderie that a group has for one another when a project has come to a successful conclusion.

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March Madness

March is disappearing in a whirl of activity. Devlin's spring break came the first week of March, and the two of us spent most of it in London. It was fun to be a tourist in a different city, especially one where there is no language barrier. We visited the Tower of London, the British Museum (twice) the Imperial War Museum, Covent Garden, Bankside, Marylebone and of course, Madame Tussaud's. One night, we walked to the theatre and saw the revival of "Oliver". We ate at some great restaurants, and some, not so great, and even enjoyed watching the BBC. (Britain is big on quiz shows)

The most astonishing thing I learned, is that Istanbul is cheap when compared with London! Just riding the tube cost 5 pounds a pop, which is roughly $7.50. Here I ride for roughly $1.00.

We got back just in time to get ready for Amy and Landon's arrival. They spent 5 days here, and we were on the go again: Aya Sofia, Blue Mosque, Topkapi palace, the Cisterns, the Spice Market, The Grand Bazaar, and the Bosphorus. It's always fun to see your city through the eyes of a guest, and even more wonderful to do it with loved ones. Luckily the weather was pretty good--still cool, but no rain, and mostly sunny. Istanbul always shows well, and you can't get a bad meal here. The days were full, and flew by much too quickly. 

The last night we ate at "Meyyali", a traditional Turkish restaurant near by. We chose several different mezes to start: eggplant in yoghurt, red pepper salsa, flat bread, eggplant and tomatoes, just to name a few; they were all were delicious. Then, we were brought a couple of mezes we didn't order. After greedily digging in, I realized it was fried lamb's liver. That was one dish that we never finished. Then of course, the main entree, and after dinner, a complimentary dish of desserts, followed by tea and Turkish coffee. I wasn't hungry again till Friday night.

Next Tuesday, I leave for the U.S. for a week. Emily has been patiently waiting for me, so we can go wedding dress shopping. We have a few other wedding details to attend to also, but the big push is to "Find the Dress!" I arrive back to Istanbul on the 31st, just in time to turn the calendar to April.

Taxi!

I am a suburbanite, and have always had a car at my disposal. So learning to use public transportation is brand new concept. My familiarity with taxis are confined to what I've seen on movies and television--you jump in a cab, tell the driver where you want to go, and moments later, you arrive. Not so true here. You never quite know what you're in store for when you jump in an Istanbuli cab.


The biggest shocker was that cab drivers here usually don't have any more idea on how to get to the destination than I have. The first time I watched a cabbie stop and ask for directions, I thought maybe I had a brand new driver. But when every subsequent driver did the same thing, I realized this was considered normal. The school where I take Turkish lessons is probably a five or six mile drive from my apartment. With a knowledgable driver is should take 15 minutes and cost under 10 lire. However, on one occasion, the driver stopped three different times for directions--that ride cost 20 lire and I was late to class. Yesterday, not only did my driver take the long way, but he also stopped at a gas station to air up his tires.

Luckily, as I've gotten my bearings and learned a bit more Turkish, I can now help the cabbie along---"Dus, dus!" (keep going straight) "Sola! (turn left). But even then, some of them don't believe me, and stop and ask directions anyway.

I've gotten used to the way they accelerate into traffic, directly in front of a city bus or dump truck, or how they think nothing of turning left in front of incoming traffic, even how they slam on their brakes, blow their horns and curse at whomever is slowing them down. But I just can't get used to how they tear hell-bent for leather down narrow streets crowded with pedestrians. At that point, I just close my eyes and pray.

However, a couple of weeks ago I had an incident occur that tempered my Taxi Angst. I realized one Tuesday morning that I couldn't find my cell phone anywhere--I'd searched the apartment, and sorted through the contents of my purse that I had dumped out on the table. My last hope was that I had forgotten it at Monday's class, so I decided to wait till after Wednesday's lesson before declaring it officially lost. Late Tuesday afternoon, Jim called me from the office to tell me that my cell phone had been found. Since I hadn't even told him yet that it was missing, I was a little befuddled. As it turned out, it had dropped out of my purse when I was paying the cab driver the day before. The driver used the phone directory and found the only Turkish name in it--Gokan, our driver. When Jim and Gokan went to pick it up, Jim tried to tip him, but the driver refused to take any payment. So in a city of 18 million people, one of them was lucky enough to have her lost phone returned to her, due to the kindness and diligence of a Turkish cab driver.






I think of that incident every time I get into a cab. It gives me the heart to sit down and experience the next wild ride.

Turkish Lessons

I am learning to speak Turkish!

L-R: Victoria, Me, Martina in green, Elisa and Lise

I enrolled at a language school that came highly recommended and attend class twice a week. (Mondays and Wednesdays, from 10:00 till 12:00) The class has been the best thing I have done since arriving in Turkey. Although I am still at the beginning level, my speaking skills have vastly improved. Not only can I now call for a taxi--and it arrives--I am able to give the driver basic directions instead of just sitting there patiently, waiting to find the destination. My reading skills are better than my speaking, and my speaking is better than my listening comprehension. With reading, one can take the time to think and decode the words--with listening, one is forced to decode instantaneously.

The language is so different than English. They put their words in a completely different pattern. In English, the sentence "I am going shopping at Istinye Park" becomes "Istinye Parkta alisveris yapiyorum" or "Istinye Park to shopping I go."  So even when I know the vocabulary, I need to think about how to place it. In Turkish, the endings of the words are extremely important, so it forces you to listen differently. (and that's why google translations of webpages are pretty useless!)

I love the structure having a class brings to my week. No more days of trying to find ways of filling the hours. Learning a language is something that takes a great deal of time, at least for me. Homework is always assigned, and I usually spend an hour or two extra each day, learning vocabulary or practicing sentence structure.

I mostly love my class for the friendships it is forging. In our class we have Dorothee, from France, Faranak from Iran, Martina from Germany, Amanda from England, Elisa from Italy, Victoria from Latvia, Lise from Norway and me. Most of them speak more than two languages; I think Victoria speaks five! But we are a merry, convivial bunch, laughing at our mistakes, and commiserating with one another over difficulties. Most are like me, in that they are new to the country, so we find ourselves going out for coffee after class, or meeting up for lunch. The past month has flown by; I've been busy, happy, and my days have purpose.

Cok guzel!

Becoming Home

I have been away from Istanbul almost a month--it was a wonderful Christmas holiday, reuniting with family and reconnecting with friends. I quickly fell into my old lifestyle, stayed busy and felt happy and comfortable the entire time. By the end of the trip I realized that I really didn't want to go back to Istanbul. It's a great place to visit, but......it really isn't home.

However, knowing Jim would probably not appreciate my new insight, and Devlin really needed to go to school, I boarded the plane anyway. An odd thing happened when we touched down and deplaned. Suddenly, it all wasn't new anymore. I knew which coin to insert for the baggage trolley. I knew what "cikis" meant. (exit) Of course, Jim was waiting outside customs for us, and his was the first smiling face I saw. But the second was Gokan's, our driver. And it seemed perfectly natural, after greeting him with affection, to hand him all the baggage to carry, while Jim and I walked hand in hand to the car. 

So it has been, these past two weeks. Nothing has seemed as hard as it did before Christmas. Coming back renewed, I enrolled in Turkish language classes, and attend twice weekly. I am enthused about learning it, and spend a good deal of time outside of class studying. It's a completely different language base than anything I have ever known, and the grammar structure is odd compared to ours. For example, in English, the sentence, " I would like a taxi, please", would be, "a taxi would I like, please". But just a few lessons have made a difference, since now I can actually say that sentence into the phone and a taxi actually comes.

I realized that Istanbul is becoming home. Entirely different than the one I left behind, but one that is every bit as real. It's an awakening, to realize that. It makes me feel much more at ease, much more contented, and much more confident. Much more like my old self.

Negative Nancy

I'm in one of those moods. Three days left before I head home, and all the things that drive me crazy about living in Turkey are really driving me around the bend! I think I'll just list them. Maybe getting them off my chest will relieve some of the pressure.

1. You have to use scissors to cut the saran wrap off the roll--not just once in awhile, but every single time.

2. Milk can only be purchased in 1 liter containers. And fresh milk is rare. One liter is only about 4 cups, so we are always going to the store for milk. I find myself lusting after the gallons I took for granted back home.

3. The only aluminum foil I have found is the weight of tissue paper.

4. Street cats....especially irksome while eating out, trying to mooch off your plate.

5. Middle aged, mustachioed cab drivers showing off their driving skills (or lack thereof)

6. People in London and Paris always wait for the passengers on the subway to get off, before they try to get on. People in Instanbul do not.

7. It's impossible to regulate the heat in our apartment. We either freeze or we roast. So now run the heat, but leave the windows open to cool off.

8. We ate lunch at fish restaurant on the Galata Bridge Saturday. The owner welcomed us with open arms, sat us, gave us water, then sent a waiter over to take our order. The waiter brought a huge platter of different raw fish to select from--and refused to give us the price of the fish till after we selected. Too late then to back out, I guess. I don't even want to tell you how much we paid for that meal.

9.  Cobblestones are picturesque, but hell to walk upon.

10. Trying to outlast, outtalk or outwit any Turkish salesman. It's not possible.

11. It's accepted practice here to crowd in front of someone else in line. And I'll be damned if I can do anything but glare, as I don't know enough Turkish to say anything. (Although, If Jim's with me, I don't have to worry about this one)

12. 24 hour clocks. Good Grief, what time is 20:15, anyway?

13. Celsius. Do I look forward to a day that is 14 degrees, or do I dread it? And don't even get me started on figuring out the oven temperatures.

14. Truth in Advertising is a real issue. My hand mixer is supposed to have 5 speeds. Maybe it does, but they are all the same speed. My favorite however, is the set of Christmas tree lights we just bought. Here's what the package said: "steady burning or blinking" (not true...they only blink, and do that errratically) "One goes out, rest stay lit" (not true, one goes out, they all go out) "Included spare bulb" (not true. No extra bulb was included) "Full size" (so not true) I can only surmise about the "energy saver" statement.

15. Policemen carry machine guns. Or at least, they look like machine guns. And they aren't nicely tucked away at their side either. I swear they keep their fingers on the trigger as they swagger down the street. I generally avoid making eye contact, but if I have to, I smile warmly, and hope that I remind them of their mothers.

It probably sounds like I hate it here. I really don't. I love Istanbul. But, there really is no place like home. And in 3 days, I'll be there. I can't wait.

Our social lives are picking up. Two weeks ago we attended the Marine Corps Ball with some friends. It was held at the Conrad, a swanky downtown hotel. Lot's of embassy personnel attended, along with the five marines whose duty it is to guard the American Consulate. (A huge, fortress entrenched along the Istinye hillside, not far from our flat)

I don't consider myself particularly patriotic, but there was a poignancy to to seeing the U.S. flag and hearing the national anthem so far away from home. I wanted to bop the guy next to me who chose to sit through the whole thing while the rest of us were standing with our hands on our hearts. I think he was Turkish, so probably felt he was exempt, but if I were in a similar situation, surrounded by Turks, you can bet I would be standing up.

Jim and Devlin ran from Asia to Europe with Boy Scouts 

This past Saturday was International Day at Devlin's school. It is the big PTA fundraiser, and an appropriate one. The cafeteria was filled with representatives from different countries, all selling home made foods. I was behind the American Food Booth, selling chili, so I didn't get around to many others, but I ate some great samosas and jasmine rice from Pakistan, while Jim lurked at Switzerland's table, enjoying the tortes and apple pies. I purchased several pairs of slippers, hand knitted by some women in a nearby village, using age old techniques and patterns. And you know you are in Europe when the PTA sells alcoholic beverages at a school function. What a great way to loosen the purse strings. Not surprisingly, I didn't see anyone under the influence.

Michel Charouk, Jim & I selling American baked goods

Saturday night brought our first party--or, should I say, soiree, as it was given by a French couple. It was a lovely affair. She had asked everyone to dress in red, in celebration of the color of the Turkish flag, our new home, so the crowd was colorful They even served Bloody Mary's and of course, red wine. It was a very international group; Swiss, French, German, Australian and even a few Americans. What is it that makes the French so elegant? Laure and her husband, Mattieu, were stylishly dressed, with a home that was decorated with good artwork and well chosen, unusual accessories. An assortment of delicious hors d'oevres were served continuously by an unobtrusive staff. Conversation was lively, (if sometimes difficult to understand). Later in the evening, music for dancing was played, and people actually danced. At one point, a few of us were outside talking, and Laure came out with furs for all of us to put on so we wouldn't be cold. They lived in Russia for awhile, and picked them up there. It's amazing how quickly you can warm up wearing an ermine wrap!

What is even more impressive, is that Laure, (who just arrived in August also) discovered a few weeks ago that she has breast cancer. I am awed by her attitude. I would still be in bed, weeping and wailing and feeling sorry for myself. She put on the party of the year! In fact, I got the invitation just as I had hit a low point, and was questioning why I had thought moving to Istanbul had been a good idea. When I compared our reactions to life's hardships, I was good and truly ashamed of myself, and snapped out my blue funk. It's easy to see who has it rough and who doesn't--and I sure don't.

Life can be moaned about or it can be celebrated. Laure has shown me the way I want to approach it--with grace, elegance and determination.