the midnight express

when the sun comes out for the first time...

2010-02-18T05:11:00.000-08:00

...After so many days of rain,
one understands,
even just slightly,
what being a witness to a miracle
must feel like...

burger with fried egg and other earthly delights

2009-11-15T07:49:00.001-08:00

a few snaps from our trip to prauge, CZ.
and half of a hamburger i made for lunch

cross over blog post...

2009-11-06T14:48:00.000-08:00

i have another one of these things, one that is more about poetry and feelings...uhhhh, hate that word....than about the overseas, expat experience...but,i thought i might share soemthing from my other blog on this one.

i wish i had my guitar,
i wish i had on a flannel shirt
i wish i had a voice i believed in
i wish i didnt have such memories.

i'd strum an A and tell you that life only seemed as long as you wanted it to be
I'd put on a CD from 1992, and tae you back to my college days
then, i'd open a spiral notebook, and show you how ink dreams are the worst kind of dreams to believe in
and then i'd take you to a movie, and we'd both understand that movies are ghosts of
the feelings we wish we had, exercises in futility and hero-worship; splashes of light that make a big enough glow to read pages by...

there was a movie i saw once:
a girl lived in a movie theater
and read books according to the lighting of the scene.
films that took place primarily in the daylight
were obvious favorites--enough light meant
a lot of reading. Westerns were the best. Horror movies,
not much going on in the theater that day...

Catcher in the Rye

2009-10-22T12:15:00.000-07:00

So, i'm teaching Cather in the Rye to my Turkish kids, and reading it again, for like the 25th million goddamn time. this book kills me, it really does. like every time i get to page 34, and Holden starts talking about his brother Allie, and all, and how he died. and, then, how after he died, Holden slept in the garage, then broke out all the goddamn windows in the lousy place. just so matter of fact, the way he tells this and all, like it wasn't really a big deal and all. anyway, stuff like that isn't a big deal to a guy like Holden, but it kills me, it really does. Kills me every time. I mean, he's kind of a big old phony, the way he treats knocking out all the goddamn windows and breaking his hand and all like no big deal, when really, you know it was. it kills me. every time. it could make you cry, the big damn baby that i am. and it usually does...

touching back down on familiar shores

2009-10-21T11:28:00.000-07:00

so, how do you cram 8 months of happenings into a blog post?ummmm...make it a really, REALLY long entry? Don't do it at all? just pretend the past year didn't happen, that i didn't spend it in a foreign country; that nothing notable whatsoever took place? that actually sounds like a good idea, to be honest, seeing how much writing i actually have to do and to add up all that has been going on in our lives. but, then, that would be lazy of me, wouldn't it?
lazy...that's me...
i will start tomorrow...
so long as the last pic in this set doesn't describe me too well on a thursday night

DoCopenhagen: Dinosaur Jr.: Over It

2009-06-08T13:49:00.000-07:00

DoCopenhagen: Dinosaur Jr.: Over It

that thing right up there--i am so dumb when it comes to laying out this blog--is a link to the new Dinosaur, jr. video, which is a video/album/sound i am currently OBssessed with. strange what makes you long for home
--good guitar rock, shitty beer in a questionable metal can--
and what makes you glad to live in a place that looks like a fairy tale backdrop...
oh well, enjoy...

too bad he didn't come see us...

2009-04-08T02:01:00.000-07:00

...but, at least we got a mention from President Obama!

check out the video:
Obama speaking to Turkish Students

i know i havent...

2009-03-23T05:34:00.000-07:00

...been updating much,
BUT, i have been writing.
here is a small representation of said work here:
title="Wordle: thetwoJimmies"> src="http://www.wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/679897/thetwoJimmies"
alt="Wordle: thetwoJimmies"
style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd">
I swear, I'll start updating, just as soon as the skies stop raining, the sun comes out and stays out, and school stops sucking me dry of all my energy...until then, I'll be sleeping, wrapped in a warm blanket under the dream-time warmth of a blooming tree, in a place that never gets wet, and smells like spring...

pict citation: http://www.wordle.net/

a confusing place...

2009-01-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

Turkey is many things, speaking from a philosophical, thematic, and historical stand point. Living here is like picking up a text book on an obscure subject and reading from the middle on. The references are made, the information is given, yet it's nearly impossible to make sense of everything. Further study is most certainly a necessity. And while i know a little bit, Turkish politics, foreign relations, and the culture that informs both are a highly involved subject and it is hard to maneuver around in things without having to stop and ask a lot of questions.
You think you know the Turks, interacting with them, listening to them talk, seeing how they act--but, really, surface knowledge here of the way life works is really no knowledge at all.
I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise to me: I think anywhere in the world you go, it would be tough to read the various ineffable landscapes, only the rest of the world seems to have a lot more transparency than does Turkey and its citizens...and to make matters worse, discussing politics in public, especially the public setting of a school that i spend 90% of my time as a part of, is highly forbidden. so, the availability and opportunity for discourse is pretty hard to come by. in fact, the only people you can talk about tings to are other Americans, and frankly, they don't always know what's going on either. I have a few students who like to bait me, see if they can trick me into debates, but like i said, that's a ‘no no’ here, and frankly, i my students, just like in American schools, are usually just a mouth piece of their parents, spouting out what they managed to pick up around the dinner table...so, what to do, or rather what to think, in a country where you don't have a clue...
Until then, meaning, until I figure this place out, articles like this from today's New York Times will continue to muddy the waters, and keep me wondering just where it is that I live now... which was honestly the whole point and what was on my mind this fine overcast and chilly Sunday morning in the Ottoman Empire.
And speaking of that, it’s been raining and overcast for almost a month straight. With the exception of Christmas and New Year’s Day, and yesterday, the rain has come at a regular and often furious pace which somehow seems to explain the melancholy Turk…and that’s good that the mood and attitude of the Turk is starting to make sense. But, I am still confused at how it can be naturally possible for it to rain SO MUCH !?

Christmas Day...pancakes for everyone....

2008-12-26T13:42:00.000-08:00

...no, make that: champagne for everyone, darlings!!!
Actually, i wouldn't wish turkish champagne or wine on anyone so...just make pretend that bit of warning is my christmas gift to you...
read on for the christmas post...

So, Christmas is here. And by the time this posts, it will have come and gone.
It’s a bit strange to be so far from home at Christmas time. I’ve traveled over the Holidays before, but something living away from home at such a distance makes it an entirely different season.
But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice here in Istanbul, or even that the season isn’t a celebration. In fact, if you put your fingers in your ears to cut out the sound of the strange language everyone speaks, you might even think you were back home. Everywhere, well not everywhere, but certainly a lot of places, are adorned with lights, blinking colors with all the splendor of Christmas. And trees! The Turks love Christmas trees, and walking along the shore road on the way to Bebek, chic apartment’s bay windows show off decorated trees. Santa is big here to, and you can see his plump little figure climbing fake ladders or riding a sleigh across the façade of those apartment buildings. Our local grocery store has a rather large selection of ornaments and house decorations: strings of lights, tinsel, spray cans of fake snow (which Ms. BumbTumble deemed too tacky to decorate our windows with; though we do have some nice lights going in our front window and I think they must look pretty cool across the Bosporus.) cheap little candle holders into eh shape of St, Nick and his reindeer. Pretty much anything you’d get at home, just on a smaller scale. Other parts of the city are decorated as well, in glowing light that would rival any city back home.
When you ask about it, the Turks will say it’s really New Year’s they are celebrating, but many of them do love the season, and seem caught up in the festiveness of it. My kids in particular. Of course, it probably has something to do with the fact that they get time off from school for a religious holiday that isn’t really one they can claim, but being around so many westerners, they seem to really enjoy Christmas. And even more, getting to say ‘Merry Christmas’ to their teachers seems to be something they love doing. Why? I don’t know, but it was very sweet, and the fact that they enjoyed the season so much helped to soften slightly the fact that I very much missed being home….being home, watching my nephew glow with excitement as he tore into a king’s ransom worth of gifts under the tree, Ms.BumbTumble drinking copious amounts of Prosecute, drinking too much beer and falling asleep in Church at Midnight Mass; ah, good times…
I think one particular memory that will always stay with me is listening to my Prep students sing Christmas Carols in class on Friday, which incidentally was the only time this year I’ve allowed them to have a class where they could do what ever they wanted, without me trying to teach—their choice to sing some of the old standards was a pretty nice change from what I expected to turn into screaming chaos. There is a tradition at RC where the preps learn Christmas Carols and then go ‘caroling’ through the school on Christmas Eve. They’ve been carrying around this double sided sheet of paper for the past week or so, with the lyrics to all the old standby’s: ‘Jingle Bells’, ‘Oh, Christmas Tree’, ‘Joy to the World’, ‘Frosty the Snowman’, and their absolute favorite, ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. So, when it came to last period on the 24th, it was hard not to let them belt out a few, the religious aspect of the songs lost on them, the excitement of Christmas perfectly in tact.
As for us, we spent a nice quiet day celebrating in our own special way, which meant Mimosas, Pancakes, and Ms.Butterwort’s syrup. Oh yes! I said Ms.Butterworth’s. A friend made a trip back to the states and brought us back pancake mix and the sweet, sweet nectar of goodness that only Ms.B can provide—look, it’s a total rarity here, OK. In Turkey, there ain’t no pancakes, and goddamn if you don’t get the craving sometimes!
We were meant to do a few other, more social things, but opted to lay out on the couch and watch movies while drinking terrible—and it’s all terrible—Turkish bubbly for the day. My family skyped us in or an hour of so of present opening, about 8AM their time, which was bitter sweet, really, as it was wonderful to see, but such a strong, lasting tradition and memory when viewed over an internet connection seems to lack some of the warm, beating heart humanness that you need.
But, hanging around, drinking, reading a book, and watching movies has its merits, too. Though the day was nice, and I enjoyed being with Ms.BumbTumble, I was a bit relieved when the day was over. You worry in advance about how you may handle certain things as an ex-pat, certain milestone, big days, significant events. Christmas came and went pretty easily, and missing home wasn’t as much of heartache as I worried it might be. No, it was actually a lot of lazy fun….

pancakes: is there anything that man has invented that rivals the greatness, the beauty, of pancakes? I doubt it.

Christmas Eve

2008-12-26T13:29:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve in the Big Shish…what a night to be here, in a foreign land.
We decided that since it was Christmas Eve, a really expensive, but incredibly good Italian dinner was in order. So, along with our friend from New Zealand and his lovely new lady, we found ourselves dressed up and eating heavenly, homemade food at Istanbul only authentic Italian Restaurant, Il Patio. This place is AMAzing, if I can express that through a stretched out syllable. We’ve made friends with the Chef, and try to get there at least once a month. And it is worth the trip. Rudy, the chef, is from Italy, but has made a name for himself by bringing Italian Cuisine to places in the world that wouldn’t normally know it. He’s been all over the world, yet his food is still this authentic, truly homemade bit of Italy, no matter the continent or the language his wait staff speaks.
Christmas dinner this year was a set course, and consisted of what the chef used to eat as a boy growing up in Southern Italy. In fact, he made sure to tell us that we were eating as he had growing up, which only made the food even better.
First course was a simple tortellini soup in a chicken broth, followed up the chef’s own handmade pasta in a light pesto sauce with fresh clams, still in the shell. The main course was a stewed lamb. All of it was amazing, but I guess I already said that, didn’t I? And, to top it off, two bottles of real Italian wine, then a homemade panatone? Heaven, really and truly.
Rudy, the chef, takes great care to make his restaurant just like what his home would be if you were coming over for dinner. He not only handles the cooking himself, but also personally greets each customer as they arrive, and then comes periodically to talk with you throughout dinner. So, not only do you get an unbelievable meal, you feel pretty special and, yes, as welcome as if you were a guest in the guys house.
I’m starting to think this may all sound like a commercial, which I suppose it is in a way, but a restaurant like this, along with the experience of eating there, goes a long way in a place like Turkey, where, yes the food is good, but once you eaten Turkish once, you’ve eaten it all….
There isn’t a whole lot of variety, and really, one menu in a four star restaurant could just as easily replace a menu in a place that can’t to print one. It’s an interesting culture, but not one full of variety, at least in the limited view I have had of it.
I’ve been keeping notes on the homogenous nature of Turkish culture, the absolute sameness and uniformity that I find in it, and it amazes when I see how far it extends. It really is a topic for another post, but, the simplicity of it, the lack of choice in places like culinary explorations, sports, and attitudes, can really astound. I’ve been trying to name it, but it is nearly impossible. I know it is more a reflection of my ignorance of the place than the actual truth, but really, you can only have the kebap, yogurt sauce, and Effes so many time before you start to wonder why things here are so ‘limited’ Limited—is that the right word? Maybe. Can’t quite tell, but I do wish they would start to get a few more choices in the Beer aisle, because the Effes is pretty close to crap, and Heineken is not only rare, but far too rich for the teacher’s salary…
…let’s put it in terms you might understand: You know how on The Simpson’s, there is only one beer, Duff, that is sold in their strange little universe, and that one Beer has infinite flavors, and thus the lack of choice is played up for comedic effect? Well, that’s the situation here in Turkey, only the shit aint funny. There is Effes, and that’s really about it? No matter where you go, high end liquor shop, or hole in the way convenience store, the shelves look the same. Effes, overly priced Corona (which I don’t drink back home), Fosters (inexplicably), and about the same 20 bottles of paint remover-esque Turkish wine. And that is JUST ABOUT IT! No foolin’. There is precious little variety in certain aspects of the culture here, at least the parts I’ve made cursory examination of, and somehow, its devastating effects are felt most acutely in the beer aisle. Oh, well. Enough of the anthropology lesson. It probably says far more about me than it does the Turks, and that’s not a good thing…
Anyway, getting back to Christmas Eve, it really was a nice evening with some relatively new, but wonderful, friends, and a great way to celebrate the season. Afterward, we went to a party on campus that one of the English teachers was hosting, and got to pretty much wish a Merry Christmas to all the new friends we’ve made, then make a precarious, death-trap hike down our very slippery mountain of a campus. It had been sleeting all day, not snowing as they had predicted, which was kind of a bummer, so by the time midnight rolled around, the going was dangerous, and we looked like a couple of drunken mountaineers, trying to avoid the slick spots and make it down the hill in one piece. No real desire for Ms.BumbTumble to live up to her nickname, not on Christmas Eve for god’s sake…
So, our first holiday away from home and family, but a good night all in all. Tomorrow, it’s pancakes, prosecco, and Ms.Butterworth’s syrup…ah, Ms.Butterworth, my sweet, sweet sugar-plumb mama, a taste of America if ever there was one. And if there isn’t, she should be…

as usaul...what else would you expect?...another typical Christmas...the captions could go on and on...

Paul and Leslie, new friends...

Sexy

pics from the trip

2008-12-26T13:05:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving Dinner..

No, Goddammit, I don't want to go see your carpet store!"

Bums AND Drunks...living up to our name

the dizzying view from Galata Tower...That little speck in white is Ms.BumbTumble, whose attention Diddles was very eagerly trying to get. Me, I just stuck to edge of the wall and tried not to fall over...

a long day in Istanbul...

The call to prayer...

Diddles loves his Auntie...

watching the boats go by...

the month of november, part two

2008-12-11T11:40:00.000-08:00

so, after the rainstorm, there's still so much to talk about.
As it was November, we had the opportunity to celebrate out first holiday away from home. Thanksgiving turned out to be a really nice affair, a little but of home right here in Turkey. We had the full-on traditional feast, complete with Turkey, stuffing, mash potatoes, gravy and all the fixings. Ms.BumbTumble can't claim to have cooked everything, though she did make a mean corn pudding soufflé. No, the honors would go to the chefs at the Movenpik hotel, who for a measly 130 YTL, catered the affair for us. Money well spent, i promise you...
it was fun, to have a traditional, non-Turkish tasting meal like that, and we celebrated with friends from campus along with the family, so, for the fact that we really truly away from home this time, things were still nice.
And, inevitably, their visit was over before it even started. I had been looking forward to my nephew and sister and brother in law coming over since the day we ourselves arrived, so I knew it would go quick. but, my god, is time a cruel thing when your perception of it is subject to a racing pace.
I had to be back at work on Friday, but made it home as soon as i could to spend some last time with everyone. and eat leftovers!
Leftovers!! Of turkey and stuffing, potatoes and gravy? Come'on, man! Do you know how great that is here? It makes up having to listen to all the jokes from your cornballs about 'eating turkey in Turkey' worth it.
There are so many nice memories of my nephew being here, from his strange fascination with the Blue Mosque--even though he didn't even go to it, nearly every mosque he saw would prompt to say, "there's the Blue Mosque-- to his absolute fear of hearing he Muezzin's call to prayer, which in places like Sultanahmet, lasts a whole lot longer than it does up here in our end of the city. The proximity of holy sites, like the Blue Mosque, determines the length and intensity of the call, I think.
But, man, did Derek hate it. And actually to a little guy like him, the only thing that strange and eerie undulating sing song moan would sound like is something totally scary.
You can see from one of the pics below what his reaction to the sound of it looked like…

A few other high-lights of the trip:
—taking my nephew up Galata Tower, which on a good day is damn scary, being as it is so tall, and there is barely a chain barrier to keep you from going over the edge. Now, try it when waking up with a hangover after taking your brother in law out for a true Istanbul night (that means drinking at various bars in Nevazade until about 4 in the morning, then stuffing your face with doners and fries...of course we added the dark and a dangerous and ill chosen walking tour of the city's back alleys, none of which i could ever find again, and a romantic chat while dangling our feet over the banks of the Bosporous in the shadow of Dolmabache Palace. Ataturk would have been proud; I'm just glad we didn't get arrested for being drunk in public...)Anyway, put yourself on the Galta tower at this point and will yourself not to throw up over the side and all over the unsuspecting, ant-sized people hundreds of feet below.
—watching the ships go by. The view from apartment windows is like a little boys’ fantasy world. Ships, cars, buses, trucks—all manner of moving vehicle rushing by. Derek seemed to love looking out at the world rushing past at a pace and showing a face he’s not seen before.

I could go on, for sure, but I can wrap it all up by saying this: It was just good to have them here, tough, and not just because I had my best and most loyal drinking partner back by my side after such a long time. aside from all the memories i have, I loved opening the front door of our flat after coming home from school and having him run around the corner to greet me. And I have a wonderful appreciation for the movie Cars and Lightning McQueen, now...we stuck these gummy plastic spiders, window ornaments from Halloween, to the all the glass walls in our place, so he would remember they were there and not run through them, and it shouldn't surprise you that they are still there, right at his eye level. Just can't bring ourselves to take them down yet. But, like everything, time moves in a strange loop, and we'll see him, and the rest of the family, before i know it. and, my time here I will be up before I know it, too, I'm sure. That is the strange thing about how we worry about the way time will move. just when you think it won't, it does, with the speed of something with wings.
From Thanksgiving, it really is just a quick walk across the bridge to Christmas and then Finals, and when i think about it, i can't believe we've been here for such a short amount of time, yet it feels like a lifetime. Does that mean you are having fun, when you can't comprehend how it's moved so quickly? I can never get that straight, how to look at it. If time drags, are you miserable? If it flies, are you happy? If it seems like you've been somewhere forever, yet you've been there for what amounts to the blink of an eye, what does that mean you feel about the time?
i don't know, yet, I suppose...

Thanksgiving, my birthday, and a few other things from last month...

2008-12-10T03:39:00.000-08:00

I suppose all i can really say is at least i'm not as behind in my school work as i am in updating this blog.
That being said, i haven't given you much of an update on life in the big shish since a few days after Obama won the election.
Well, let's get to it then:
My parents made it over and man, was it wonderful to have the family here. They are doers, i tell you. I think they saw more of the city in 7 days than i have in 5 months. Miss BumbTumble has really learned the city, and though, she will claim otherwise, she is an unbelievably good tour guide. I don't know where she learned it all, but she's got Istanbul down cold. My parents had a great time seeing the big sights down in Sultanahmet and Eminonu, like the Blue Mosque, The Grand Bazaar, and the like. My dad had read extensively on the Ottoman Empire before coming over and was constantly enthralled at seeing so many of the things in person that he had been studying. My mom liked it too, and kept commenting on how exotic and fascinating the whole place is. And, it really is. It takes a visit from someone who's never been to remind you of how fascinating a place Istanbul is. Like anywhere else, when you live here, you become a bit used to things, and thus tend to focus more on the stuff you don't particularly enjoy or need to really focus on; having people here and seeing how enthralled they are with your version of the everyday, really does wonders for getting you to stop and take a few minutes to remember where you are and to not fritter away the important moments worrying over the everyday. Not that I don't like it; far from it: I just tend to get involved in the day to day of living, and when you do that, you don't need to be in a foreign country to allow your spirit to get worm down by the day to day bullshit! it's easy, really, to let yourself get annoyed; it's much better to take a moment every day to think how lucky you are...
enough of the positive affirmation crap, back to the story...
Directly after my parent's visit, my little sister, my brother-in-law, and the world's most special three year old, Derek, showed up, and of course, being that i have been waiting for them to show up literally since the day my own plane touched down, their visit seemed to last about 1o minuets before it was again time to say goodbye. but, fast or not, we loved every minute of their being here. they seemed to love the city as much as my parents did, and it was just wonderful having my nephew running around the place. I miss him more than anyone else back home, so i had to make sure i got in as many hugs and kisses as i could. he's just so much fun, like any awesome three year old should be...
the Turks are really crazy about children and i swear you see the best in them come out when it comes to kids. my nephew was like a star attraction in this city, garnering attention from nearly everyone everywhere we went. Old men on the ferry, women on the street, teenage girls at Topkapi Palace. It was hard for people to keep their hands off of him, and he must have been made to pose for a thousand pictures. It was interesting too, that over here, people love to touch babies; squeeze their cheeks, tussle their hair, kiss them. Whereas at home, a stranger touching a baby would result in a quick call for the nearest cop, over here, it's no big deal. Moreover, like i said before, a child brings out the very best in people. Take, for instance, the following:
We ventured over to the Asian side of Istanbul, and like the weather often does in this city, what started out on one continent as bright as sunny, ended on another in a torrential downpour...
later on in the evening, as we were dodging the rain and the aggressive come ons from the fishsellers, and walking the narrow lanes of the bazaar, we passed by a group of young guys who looked so messed up, that both my sister and I commented on them. "Huffers," I said, acting like an authority on the visible signs of drug abuse, of which i not at all, to which my sister replied, "Man, they looked awful!"
No longer able to avoid getting soaked, and thoroughly sick of the smell of fish (which is the dominant stink on most days in Istanbul), we turned around and headed back. At which point, one of those four really messed up kids jumped in our path and thrust his umbrella at us. None us were really sure how to react, until it dawned on us that he wasn't doing anything more than giving us his umbrella in order to keep Derek out of the rain. I mean, these guys were scary looking, and yet, the sight of a little one getting wet invoked in them such emotion. and that wasn't the only time; later in the evening, back on the European side, another teenager stood at the bus stop holding his umbrella over Derek until the bus arrived, getting soaked himself, but not minding a bit. it was a nice sight to see all of this, from grumpy old grim faced and mustachioed Turkish men breaking into huge smiles at the sight of Mr Diddlebops, or otherwise acting like total clowns to get him to smile. Even stranger is seeing the same melancholy Turk leaning in to kiss Derek on the cheek. Whereas at home, one might call the cops in such a situation, over here, it is totally acceptable, and a really good indication of the wonderful nature of the Turks, a chink in that often impenetrable armor of a frown they so often wear.
It was good to have the little guy here, if only to see a new side of the place i didn't know existed. That, though, is the most amazing thing about living in a place like Turkey-there is always, always something to surprise you and make you change your mind...
Ok, that's enough for now...I will continue all this in my next post

mom and dad at Dolmabache Palace

updates

2008-12-07T05:23:00.001-08:00

so much happening, so little time to talk or write about it. such is the curse of being a teacher, and someone who, given the choice, would choose to spend an entire life with his head in a book reading, and with a pencil in my hand, writing...i've often thought who cool it would be to win the lottery and thus be able to afford the kind of lifestyle that would let me do just that: read and write, all day, everyday. i wouldn't even need an office, just a nice corner in the library...oh well, i suppose there will always be something better to do than what you chose as a profession...
we are starting a week long vacation, this one a religious holiday, called a bayram, which Turkey seems to have a lot of. Back in late September, the whole country got about 9 days off; this time, it's only 4, but, who's complaining? Bayram centers around multiple religious cermoniies and meanings, and are oftern marked by visiting family and honoring elders. there is a tradition of visting one's grandparents, and honoring them not only with your presence, but greetign them in the traditional manner of kissing their hands, then bringing your hand to your forehead. my studnents have done this with me, as it is not only a holiday ritual, but a general sign of respectfulness...Anyway, this particular holiday focuses not only on visiting family and eating candy, but on the biblical story of Abraham and the command he received from God to sacrifice his son. It was a test, to see how loyal he was and how far he would be willing to to go to prove his devotion. If you know your bible stories, you know at the last minute, an angle slowed Abraham's killing hand, and his son, Isaac, was spared; some goat got it in the end, and thus, this holiday centers around sacrificing a lamb or a goat, or some other poor, unsuspecting animal. (one of my kids showed me a particularly bloody online picture of a camel getting to sit in for Issac. Nice. And not surprisingly, my boy students are fascinated by this holiday, though the ones from Istanbul will rarely get to see an animal getting it. Those from the provinces and those who travel there to see relatives who live far enough out of the city, will get to take part.
(almost all Turkish holidays revolve around visiting family, which is the reason it nearly impossible to get out of the country, let alone the city--trust me, you do not want to be on the road, at the airport, or anywhere else, when 90% of the country is on the move...gives the word chaos a whole new meaning)
The kids were particularly eager to tell me stories about walking down certain streets and having to lift the hem of your pants in order to avoid getting them soaked in blood. which, really, sounds fascinating, but not something you are likely to see here in Istanbul. religious tradition has given way to modern life and sanitized rules, and like a lot of traditions, is followed in spirit only. to sacrifice an animal here in the city, you would have to have done under strict procedures, most of which i don't even know of. the closest i got to it was watching a couple of guys in the local butcher shop going at a carcass and wrapping it up individually for resale. not throat cutting, skin stripping, or anything of the sort in sight. and yes, i was a bit disappointed not to get to see any sort of animal mayhem, but five days off, with no obligations, makes up for that.

NOT on our campus!

otherwise, the weather is beautiful; it is finally getting chilly here and feeling like late fall/ early winter, but the sun is shining and bright and the Bosporus is a gorgeous gem colored blue. Being a holiday, the streets are less crowded and those people that are out are taking it slow, walking along and enjoying the change in the air, visiting with friends, lingering over coffee, watching the ships go by...all in all, a great time to here, and a perfect way to rest up before the final push to semester's end...

lack of updates...

2008-11-28T14:11:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the lack of the updates. Been pretty low down on the health meter and i've spent this past week hosting three of my six favorite people in the world, being my sister, brother in law and nephew. all is well, though, and it has been so good having my sweet nephew here.
the weather is turning chilly now, and there is a fresh, autumn chill to the air. Crisp, and sometimes tinged with the scent of wood smoke, which is almost odd here in this megatropolis.
I've been reading some great stuff, including Middlesex, Jean Toomer's Cane, Antigone, and a book about Superman. Why Superman? Why not...?
So, just a quick check in to say i am still alive and watch this space for more regular work staring this week...
and, Go Skins! Eli, the Boy Wonder and crew are in for a shocker...I hope!

election morning

2008-11-20T11:10:00.001-08:00

A random collection of shots from the Consulate Election Party. we arrived around 7am, as the returns were still rolling in, and as i said earlier, egg mcmuffins and dunkin donuts made obama's victory even sweeter.
I had to roll out pretty early, but ol BumbTumble stuck around for the festivities. it was a subdued affair, more for the Turkish media to get an american perspective on the election and what it meant, but all in all, it was pretty cool to celebrate the american election in such a strange place with a bunch of foreigners. and egg mcmuffins...

the digs, continued

2008-11-20T10:48:00.001-08:00

the digs

2008-11-19T12:51:00.000-08:00

Here are some shots of the apartment. Now, think of all those great shots of the Bosphorous I've posted, and then imagine they are right outside my window. What a place--Don't know how we got so lucky...

Photos, 1

2008-11-19T12:12:00.001-08:00

It's pretty much a carnival when it comes to Food in Turkey. these shots come from the Spice Bazaar...

Egg McMuffins and Boston Creams

2008-11-19T11:31:00.000-08:00

Hi there, all of you over in the great land of hope, change and a new administration!
God Bless america, what a wonderful two weeks, huh? I tell you, other than missing my family and a good and affordable beer selection, not a whole lot has made me miss the USA, until november 5th, at about 6am our time, 11 yours...CNN international had live shots of people celebrating down in front of the White House when they announced Obabma had won, and all I could think about was how badly i wanted to be there with them, cheering goodbye to the end of one era and the start of a new, hopefully much brighter, one.
Miss BumbTumble and I stayed up most the night-well, BumbTumble did-I had to work the next day, so i opted to start my day at 4am our time to watch the returns-watching things unfold, then we headed over to a party thrown by the US Consulate General of istanbul, to cheer and be with other americans, who i had thought would be in just as celebratory a mood. But, things, while really fun, were a bit subdued. But, that is the way it goes when your job requires you to be impartial and unbiased, as Embassy workers have to be...but that didn't put a damper on the fact that we got to eat Dunkin Donuts and McDonald's Egg McMuffins...Let's hear it for Democracy (the vote!), excitement (no more W!) and CHANGE (from Turkish Cuisine!)
It was an odd feeling afterward, riding in the cab to work, watching the Istanbul morning traffic start to pile up and seeing everyone making their start to a normal, wednesday...when for us, it was such a significant day, and one that not only brimmed with hope and promise, but seemed like a milestone being passed. So many of us have waited for this day to come for so long, thinking it should have-would have-arrived four years ago, and now living it. and here we are, in a strange foreign city, where for most of the people behind the wheels of those car, it was just another day. Yet, for us, it was a day to see things with new eyes, and time to harbor new hope for the future. Disconcerting and exhilarating at the same time. Well, i suppose I can settle for missing the party, so long as the best man won. There is a lot of comfort in that, to be sure...
Anyway, on the homefront, things are good. My folks were here and we had a great time showing them Istanbul. It was great having them here; like a little bit of home without having to travel there. I know it's been only three months since we left, but seeing my folks made it feel like so much longer...
As i said, we had a great time, and I was actually a bit of tourist again, seeing some of the more popular spots in town. I get pretty caught up in school these days, so my journeys to the touristy areas comes pretty rarely. The same can't be said for Mrs.B, but she has become quite the expert on the Big Sish. My folks were truly impressed with how much she knew and how well she got them around. I think they may have been a bit exhausted by the end of the week, with all that they had to take in.
Now, Diddle Bops and Co (my sister and brother in law, and nephew) show up this Saturday, so we will have a small break before the fun starts up again. The best part about living in a place like this is the fact that ever one comes to you and marvels about how great it is. which in turn, reminds you not to get caught up in the little annoyances of living in a strange land, and to sit up and notice all the amazing things that surround you. and believe, me, for as noisy, crowded, frenetic, and scizo this city is, it really is an amazing place...
Other than that, I've been battling what is possibly the worst cold I have EVER had and slogging my way through terrible essays about the positive or negative effects of technology and reading Antigone for the first time, The Catcher in the Rye for the 12 millionth. Funny how the language barrier makes things like Catcher really interesting and totally new, especially when you have to do things like explain what it means when Holden says, "I'm horny as hell", to a bunch of 15 novice English speakers.
Tricky, for sure...
It's raining here on a daily basis, and i've been listening to a lot Jay Farrar and The Clash. So, some things change, some things don't. Fun to revel in both...
Oh, forgot to add, the next few posts will be heavy on the photos, as many of you have told me to post them. look for some shoots of the pad, which I totally forgot to post somehow

watching from far away

2008-11-04T10:34:00.001-08:00

here is a picture of Miss BumTumble and me right now: We've got CNN International on the TV, MSNBC streaming live, and just about every other news site we can rotating around the the interwebs..
Our fingers are crossed, neither of us plans on sleeping tonight, and for the first time, we miss home.
Both of are wishing we could be at home right now to watch the news and see the returns come in.
Both of us are terrified of jinxing things, so I won't say we can't believe we won't be home to see our man win, but man, would it be good to be home tonight and hopefully celebrate the end of an era and a brand new start for America.
We voted absentee and were excited and proud to do so, but we wish we could be there to feel the buzz, and the energy, of Election Day.
The historic precedent of it is not lost, not even an ocean, or multiple time zones can diminish that.
We might pray tonight, might be down on our knees asking for just a little help and few extra votes to go Obama’s way…
And we might just be celebrating a little bit of America in the Old Town later on.
Either way, it will be a long night, but it’s been a longer goddamn 8 years, so, a little bit longer won’t hurt…too much.

a few firsts, and then some

2008-11-04T09:17:00.000-08:00

sorry for the lack of updates but Things been cooking round the ol' campus.
School is keeping me busy, which is great. In a city where you don't really know your way around, trouble seems to hang out on the corner at lot more than anyone else. Not that I’m looking, mind you. You've seen the title of this blog: I know where I am and yes, I have indeed seen the movie. Brought it with me, as a matter of fact...
But, anywho, it's been a busy few weeks with school planning and grading and the like.
But, we did get the chance to celebrate two firsts. The first first was Halloween! I've always loved Halloween, for obvious reason, like the fun it brought as a kid raiding the neighborhood for candy, bur also for the fun it brings as an adult to get to dress up like an idiot and raid your neighbor’s fridge for booze…it’s the little things that make a difference, isn’t it.
I really loved Halloween though—still do—because it is like this great double feature, as my birthday is the next day, November 1st.
Imagine the excitement, the absolute orgy of fun it was as a kid, getting to trick or treat Halloween night and wake up to not only a bag full of candy, but presents, too. It was like I’d died and gone to heaven, to coin a very over used cliché.
This year was a first, too. Halloween in a foreign country, where the only people that know the significance of the day are the expats and their students. The students know, because we their teachers were the only idiots dressed in costume, and making them read really confusing, and according to them, not very scary Edgar Allan Poe stories. I tried, I really did, but no one seemed to like the Raven as much as I do. As an aside, by the end of the day, I resorted to teaching them what the oral tradition was, and we told, rather than read, scary stories. It resorted to one of my old favorites, The Whistler, a classic murderer in the room story, which i can't seem to find online to link you to,and I am happy to say, I totally flipped some of kid’s lids with it. Got a scream at the end from one of them…
So, it was a fun day, regardless of what was lost in translation, and we capped off the night at a Halloween party one of the teachers threw. This was a real bash, with Turks and expats all dolled up in their weirdest, including, but not limited to: a Quaker, Snow White, A Mexican (he was Turkish, so it was Ok…), a Witch, a Priest, a Mad Scientist, Ataturk himself, a Cowboy, and Two Dead Athletes.
Yeah, that was us, the two dead athletes. And that only came about by default, as we had no idea where to look for costumes in this strange city ,and just by chance, I happen to own two jerseys from separate sports whose namesakes (or is it numbersakes) happen to have shuffled off already. We tried to doll it up a bit by claiming we had planned to dress at dead athletes, but really, the fact only hit me that we were both sporting numbers of dead folks as we were walking to the party. I still stand by my original idea, which was to say I was dressed as a suicidal Yankee fan, which explains the rope around my neck and the empty pill bottle in my pocket. Miss. BumTumble was just a dead athlete. But she sure did look cute!
I was sporting my authentic 15 Yankees jersey, retired number of Yankee immortal, Thurman Munson, so, I did felt a bit sacrilegious claiming to be a corpse, so…well, enough of that.
For the birthday, we went to a new Brewery which serves authentic brewed American and German style beers, with real imported top quality hops, and fresh, FRESH FRESH FRESH! From the brewery right across the Bosphorous. I’ve had enough Effes to drown an ocean full of fish, so imagine my absolute delight in tasting something so good, and frankly, so American. The Turks are many things, bit knowledgeable about beer they are not. So, Taps, while a chain here in Turkey, is a much welcomed addition to our lives right now. And a damn finely crafted tasty one at that.
Hail Beer! It makes Birthdays fun! And it doesn’t hurt that we’ve made friends with the owner…
Well, im sure I will go on at length in future posts about how good Taps beer is and how shitty Effes is, so I’ll cut this off here in a sec. I will end, though, with highlighting the difference between a birthday here and one at home. Last year, the big gift was an Ipod. Fantastic, right? This year, it was a can of real Pork and Beans, and a bag each of Chocolate and Peanut M&Ms. Which, honestly, was even better!!!
Strange life it is we lead…
See ya soon,
And GO OBAMA!

Republic Day

2008-10-29T11:39:00.000-07:00

so, today is 29 Ekim, Republic Day. A celebration much like our Independence Day, only it is Turkey celebrating their becoming a republic.
There were a lot of celebrations, mainly in the form of very nationalistic ceremonies, events that would not really interest the foreigner. There is a lot of flag waving on this day, too, which is quite a site to see; that crimson red flag with it's striking white moon and star is always somewhat stirring to see, and you can easily see why the Turks wave it so proudly as a symbol. today, it was draped from nearly every surface you could see and the city was awash in red.
We celebrated by going to a TAPS, Istanbul's only brewery, and indulged in chicken wings and freshly brewed beer, that was not, thank god, Effes. An amber ale, a hefeiweizen and an american pilsner, all made fresh right across the straight and from choice hops...god, it was lovely. a real taste of home...
and then tonight, we hiked up to the top of the plateau to watch the fireworks that mark the end of the celebrations.
this was something to see. it started with dozens of spot lights weaving in the night sky above the bridge. then, the bridge seemed to explode, and the fireworks were being launched right from the platform, both up into the air, and most interestingly, dripping right off the bridge down to the water below. it was like someone turned on a faucet and out came this shimmering, cascading shower of white. it was beautiful to see. then you got your standard display, running the length of Bosphorous, down to the Golden Horn, one after another, huge flowers and bursts of color and light, lacing the whole landscape with stars and smoke.
nice way to end the holiday, and a fun thing to get a day off in a place where you have no connection to the traditions...

we are back...

2008-10-28T15:05:00.000-07:00

We are back,
im just glad i got to say a few things, and im even happier for TURKEY. Count this as a rose in their bouquet,a thorn plucked gently from their paw...Happy Republic Day, you've done the old man proud

translations and the things lost therein

2008-10-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

I must get asked at least 5 times a day to translate a word or phrase for my students. Even more, to explain what something means that they have come across in their reading, or that they heard on TV. We have been reading The Catcher in the Rye, and with all the slang and colloquial statements Holden makes, there have been plenty of things they are not aware of. But that makes teaching fun, as we can discuss language and you can see a kid's comprehension open up a bit more, right before your eyes.
But, i have to say, the question i was asked last friday has to be the very best one yet. One of my preps (8th graders) was listening to his Ipod. For some reason, the Turks ar obsessed with Metal, especially bands like the Scorpions, Metallica, Iron Maiden, and a bunch of stuff i've never heard of. It's like they are a bit stuck in the 80s when it comes to music. and other stuff, but for more on that, see last evening's post.
Anyway, this young man was desperate to talk to me and right as i was about to start class, he gestured to me urgently to come to his seat, as he had something, obviously, to say.
I walked over, asked, "what's up?"
"Mr.La-Ri-ahh, what does mean this? This title by AC/DC. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap?"
You mean the late great Bon Scott's Ode to the joys of the criminal life? The song that asks "if you gotta a lady and you want 'er gone, but you aint got the guts?" You mean the best song ever written about wreaking havoc on your enemies, all set to a beat and a guitar crawl as wicked as twist of lightning and a shot of rattlesnake poison? That song? the one with possibly the greatest course ever scratched into a piece of vinyl, Oi, Oi, Oi ? You mean THAT Song?
Talk about a teachable moment. and what things I could teach him...

some photos

2008-10-19T13:19:00.001-07:00

Hi ya:
been pretty busy past week or two with the planning and the essay reading and the sightseeing and the Effes drinking, but i thought i'd throw up a few pics from lately.
I was going to post a poem or two, but that would require finishing them. Let me get to work and I'll put em up...
so, we're well, still adjusting, but i don't think that will ever change. School is good, the students are smart, but no matter how smart they are, or how far away you go to teach, teenagers are always going to be a pain in the ass, so no really high praise in that area.the weather is cooling off a bit, but it's still pretty steady in the 70s every day. and humid. damn humid. which is unfortunate, for two reasons. The heat is already on most places you go, as the Turks have a real issue with being cold. anything below about 80 is cold to them. The other issue is that with the humidity and the heat being on, everyone is still a little sweaty, and-how do i put this politely...? let's just say the Turks are not all that current on the latest in anti-perspirant technology.
so, bus rides and afternoons in the classroom are olfactory experiences you wish you could miss. Well, i guess you wish you just didn't have to experience the culture on such an aromatic level...i'm trying to be polite here, but, man, damn! my bus ride to Ortakoy today was done with my shirt up over my nose, bankrobber style...don't know who's reading this, so i'll leave it at that.
Any way, we're doing well, like i said.
How are you?
Send peanut butter and deodorant, please

This is an interior shot of of the ruins an old, old Christian Church that is hidden away in the woods at near my end of the campus. I have no information concerning its origins or age, but it is a pretty magical place. It is home to a bunch of stray cats and scorpions now, but when you get inside, you can still see the traces of the old icons painted on the wall behind where the altar stood. if you come visit, it will be a stop on the campus tour

a sunny day in the village

I see this old YaYa (greek for Grandmother) fishing almost every day...not sure if she catches anything, but i love seeing her from my kitchen window. you can't help but think about what strangely different lives we lead from one another. me in my kitchen, popping open a beer, surfing the web, pluggin into my ipod; her most likely fishing for something to take home and put on her table, and she's probably beer here in Stamboul fishing from the bank across from campus since she was a little girl...
The bridge at night

nothing too speacial, just some shots of life in the Old Town

we got 'stache

2008-10-09T12:40:00.000-07:00

So, due to a complicated, ridiculously silly bureaucratic stricture foisted on all teachers and government workers by the omnipresent second coming of big brother, otherwise known and the T*****h Ministry of Education, male teachers are not allowed to wear beards in my new home. and, if you know me, you will probably realize that you hardly would recognize me without some kind of beard. I've been sporting a beard, goatee, or some variation of, since high school. I feel strange without something on my face, and since I've become such a fat ass, i actually view facial hair in the same way an architect sees a lode bearing wall--damn necessary! I have to cover up my new jowls and my fat goose neck. Something about the way i've come to resemble Hillary Clinton around the gill area really, really bothers me.
but, being a member of a school that views itself as one of the front line fighters against the scourge of fundamentalism and small mindedness means I can not wear a beard. And, I suppose, viewing the ideology behind that, I'm happy to do my part. It's not every day that you can work at a place that is so assured of it's mission and works fervently to educate it's people to be liberal, open minded and members--no, leaders-- of the global village, is quite an honor.
But, good lord, I look weird without ANY facial hair, so hence the title of this post: we got 'stache.
First time I've ever worn just a mustache, so I'm not quite sure about it yet. Others like it, it was even referred to as 'sexy' and 'luxurious', so I'm thinking it might stick, at least for now.
But, why don't you be the judge....
Oh, and by the way, "You order the Pizza!?"

lack of updates...or, I feel like garbage

2008-10-09T12:21:00.000-07:00

yeah, uh, sorry for the lack of postage round the old midnight express lately. Between the challenge and grind of teaching no English speakers every day and my general lack of good health, i haven't been much up for posting. or writing at all for that matter.
the health thing is a bit weird. My ENT Doc warned me, and now it is coming true--immersion in a new environment means exposure to lots of new allergens. Which means, on every front, the body is exposed to new germs, new creepy crawlies, new air full of all sorts of things your body has never encountered for. and that doesn't even begin to describe the fun stuff that lives on food and swims in the water...damn, are you getting the picture?
Basically, I've felt like I have both a severe head cold and a stomach flu, alternately, for the past few weeks, and just when i start to feel better, one of them, or something else even more fun like a super headache, pops back up. Basically, I feel like I'm walking backwards to the grave, one feeble step at a time. Until the Effes kicks in, then I feel good, with a hangover after, but hey, we take our fun when are where we can get it...
And, no, don't worry. I know it's a temporary thing and I'm not delusional enough to think I'm really sick, but i do know enough to know that ol Andy's system aint quite used to ol 'Stamboul's soup of city air, dirty water, and unwashed fruit and veggies...I'm sure i will get used to it at some point, i just hope it happens soon. Because I'm way tired of feeling like crapola...
So, stick around, I've got lots of things to write, as soon as I get out of the bathroom...

About last evening...

2008-10-05T09:17:00.000-07:00

So, yeah, we were jamming with the band...more to tell later, but check out the cool setlist

The Gals do Stambul

2008-10-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

We had our first visitors from home, and I think they like the place.
Sure was nice to have a little bit of the hometown here in the old town..

Choose a Side

2008-09-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it's as simple as buying a jersey. maybe you like the colors or the logo. maybe, you just like the energy of the crowd. whatever it is, i have decided on Beskitas and they are now my team.
i was told by everyone that if i was going to live in Turkey not only would I have to watch and enjoy futbol, i had to choose a team, and if it wasn't one of the big three, i'd get zero respect.
so, i choose Beskitas--the underdogs, the working man's squad, the dirtbags' team, the rowdiest of the bunch, the nastiest of the Lig, the nutbags, the dirtballs, the might just do it this year.
that's my team. but, i have to admit, the jerseys kind of did it for me. I went to the stadium yesterday morning and picked one up for 30 YTL. Good price for official gear.
i also like the theme song, which is a Turkish band singing a bastardized cover of "Eye of the Tiger", with the lyrics changed to something about the team. only it was in Turkish, but when it comes to Eye of the Tiger, do you really need to understand the words to get the idea?
I think not.

cool...

“Beskitas! Besitkas! Besiktas!”

2008-09-19T09:13:00.001-07:00

…and that was about all I could understand. But, it was enough to get the fever, and if I had been able to sing along, believe me, I would have.
I’m talking soccer, of course. Or futbol, rather. And when I talk of it, we should all bow our heads, because that is about the level of reverence in which the Turks hold the game. They are consumed by it, passionate about it, and tribal in their allegiance to their squad. And, though Super Lig, the Turkish professional soccer league, has many teams, the Turks only go to three, four churches at most. That would mean they all worship Galatasary, Besiktas, or Fenerbache, the three great teams, all from Istanbul, and the only 3 out of 18 that have ever won the championship. Now, Super Lig traces its founding back to 1959, and only three teams—3!—have won? That’s like saying that the World Series in Baseball had only ever been won by the Yankees, the Mets and the Red Sox,…well, probably not fair to include the Red Sox in there, since those pukes have only won twice.
(look, I know I’m talking soccer here, and I don’t live in the States anymore, but, goddamn if I’m not surrounded by a whole campus full of native New England Red Sox lovin’ dirtbags…just goes to show, you can never get away from the Nation and all the assholes that live in it…uggggg.)
Anyway, Futbol is a religion, and really there is no other team than the big three from the big city. And last night, I got to experience a futbol match for the first time. And what an event.
This thing, like I said earlier, is tribal. The game is really secondary. What goes on out on the pitch in really no way compares to the rituals taking place with the tribe in the stands. IT starts about 30 minutes before the match, with call and response, both between different sections of the crowd and the players warming up on the field. Things quiet down, and then as kick off approaches and the last few seconds wind down before the ball is put in play, the circus really begins. The hands are in the air, the singing starts, and then right as the ball starts to roll, like a reverential prayer, the crowd raises it’s collective voice in am crescendoing “Whooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”, the a barely audible “shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….” which rises right back into a crescendo of song. And the game has started.
But, you wouldn’t really know it, because the crowd is so much more exciting to watch. It is a collective, truly and entirely. There are no individual cheers, or small groups trying to start the wave. No, sir. This is a religion, and you don’t go to church if you don’t know the prayers by heart. I cant even tell you all of what I heard because I couldn’t understand a bit of it, but it was 90 minutes of raised voices, chanting and canting, whistling and screaming, rockin and rolling and beart boxing in one single voice. Amazing really. Especially when the songs are sung and the hands all move in unison and absolute precision, and…rally, you just have to see it. It’s like a scene from a movie, where thousands of bodies move as one, and sing out in one strong voice. And man, the energy. The energy. There is nothing like that mass motion of people, when the voices are raised as one, and everyone moves with one happy purpose. You can see how movements start and crazy or happy, or for that matter, really bad things happen, when the tribe is all gathered like that. The place moves like an animal, strong, sleek, and as one. It really is incredible to see. And like I said, who cares about the game; the crowd is the scene you want to make.
And this was a pretty subdued game. Things can get crazy, things can get violent, things can get way, way out of control. But all my Turkish students kept saying, “Oh, this is nothing, this is so quiet. This is boring.”
Boring? Doubtful. Quiet? My ears were ringing by the time I left.
Boring? Never.
Besiktas! Besiktas! Besiktas!
check out some poorly shot pics and video...

and some shaky, first person perspective video, the kind a three year old who's just taken his dad's video camera would shoot...i'm got talent, you know?

photo time

2008-09-11T13:56:00.000-07:00

Here's a few random shots of the walk we take every day, between here and Bebek, a posh little place up the water from us, where the Turkish celebs play. I wouldn't be able to pick one out of a line up for a million bucks, but the scenery sure is nice. As you can see...
...stay tuned...
and, yes, that is a submarine, right out in my front yard...

more notes on culture shock

2008-09-11T03:42:00.000-07:00

Here is the height of highs and depths of lows when it comes to getting into a new routine, or just getting a handle on culture shock. Because that is what it seems like you need to do: chase the thing down, wrangle it by the neck, and knock it into the dirt. Or, perhaps the imagery comes from the very short fuse I’ve been living on, where anything and everything seems to set me off. Regardless, it's easy to get frustrated here, like it is anywhere. It's just the uniqueness of it that still astounds. Which is also keeping within theme, because life, at it's most interesting, is nothing but one unique, new experience after another. The continuous changes in scenery make the ride worth taking, but you are damn tired by the time it ends.
Anyway, back to the story, or rather the highs and lows. I've never been so subject to either of them.
trying to order a pizza, or go to the hardware store to by a masonry drill bit, or waiting for a reply on work you need done, trying to fit a light bulb into a socket, stretching a power strip cord under a radiator, checking email and surfing the web in a country that routinely bans sites for "objectionable content", or trying to fit and 160cm mattress on a 150cm frame--simple by nature, things that should require you to expend very little mental energy, and by no means cause you to fly into a fit of anger. Yet, somehow, all of those things and a few other things like having to cross the street against traffic, teach in an unairconditioned building, trying to find the words for medium pepperoni and mushroom, buy milk that is not going turn out to be yogurt, or get a cup of brewed coffee, while frustrating, seem natural, and almost necessary.
If you weren’t frustrated by it all, you wouldn’t be normal, or at least you wouldn’t be paying attention.
‘Embrace the differences,’ as my old friend Enzo says. Or is it, ‘Enjoy?’ Or, ‘Appreciate?’
I can’t recall. But, the sentiment is right. Things is different, and they will be for quite a while, but the payoff is the feeling of elation that comes when stuff is fixed, problems are solved, things just work out, you say the right thing, you make a new friend.
Then—then—you feel on top of the world, and you are so happy that you decided to move halfway around the world but you realize too, that if this is the way it should be, then you have a whole to look forward to. Which is truly the best part of having a new home, especially one as funky, cool, and exotic as Istanbul—the best is still ahead and you have so much to look forward to. To do a job you could have easily kept doing at home and never really experienced the strangeness of a new day in a new land, every day, day after day.
It is this time, when things are going right, that you realize it's not that thing are going right finally, but that this is they way it would normally go, and that you need to just let go. and embrace what is different. And not only that,
So, a roundabout way of explaining away my sometimes whiny, almost always self-pitying attitude. And just a way of saying, I might sound like I’m not having fun, but I’ve stepped fully the edge of the pool and dived into a dream and I’m swimming happily….the waters just get choppy at times, even in a pool.
…Stay tuned…

further adventures in getting to know the place...

2008-09-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday, I ventured out to the main street in our village for the very important task of opening a bank account. It would seem an easy task, yes, seeing as the HR Department at school had done all the paperwork for me and set the thing up. They had even deposited a nice little chunk of change in there for me as well.
At this early stage in my new life overseas, the simpler the better. Culture shock, as I'd written about previously, in all its guises is a constant companion lately. It doesn't make me unique in that I am experiencing anything radical or worthy of writing a book about. All the same, it's a workout getting used to the newness of a place in such a day to day details. Most of the differences, you take in stride and remark with interest or curiosity on. Most things: the general idiocy a Turk displays behind the wheel and Turkish toilets in an otherwise upscale establishment, notwithstanding. More on that later...
Anyways, what was promised as a routine trip to the bank to pick up my new ATM cards and get what they call a bank book, turned out to be anything but. The assurance that everyone at that branch spoke English was only true in the sense that no one at all spoke English and that I had no idea what the woman behind the counter was babbling at me. Then more I slowly said: "I. Do. Not.Speak.English.” the more she continued to chatter back at me with a frown.
The minutes where you fumble about with no clue seem to take forever, and the more you try to think of something to say, the more uncomfortable and frustrated you get. Such was me, growing very irritable, at the end of a day that had been long and hot and just looking for a reason to run my temper over the top and just blow.
Just as I was about to turn and walk out, a voice at my shoulder sounded, in perfect, nearly accent-less English, asking "Can I help you?"
I turned with open arms, ready to throw a big hug around whomever it was that had just come to my rescue, and there was this regular looking, everydayordinary Turk, smiling at me with what could only be sympathy. Really, it makes no difference what he looked like. It was the fact that he spoke English and thus served as the water to douse the fire I was about to erupt into.
I said to him, 'do you speak English' in my practiced, s--l--o--w manner I’ve adopted to make sure my students understand me. I have to force myself to speak up and speak slow to be understood. ask my new friend, Ms.Bumbtumble, she will heartily, and angrily agree.
And he replied, in perfectly accented English, "Yeah, I speak English. I work in America."
And in fact, he spoke perfectly English, so much so that when I told him what I needed translated for the woman behind the counter, he started to speak to her in English.
Which was quite funny and all of us had a little laugh, a real chuckle; Oh yes, how funny.
Yeah, I laughed to, but it was mostly because I no longer felt like I wanted to punch the ATM machine.
Anyway, my friend, named Mustafa by the way, talked for me and told me that there were no ATM cards for me yet, but to come back in ten days to pick one up, and that if I needed cash, to use my passport.
The point: crisis averted. The lesson: chill out, because around every strange corner, and in a place like Istanbul there are many, and in getting used to be a foreigner for the first time in your life, you will turn many a strange, dark, and dangerous corner, there may be something good and surprising waiting for you.
Which in this case, there truly was/ One of the best traits the Turks display, though not often outwardly, is there ability to embrace you as a friend from nearly the moment you meet them. They will eye you with suspicion on the street, but once you are thrown into close proximity with them or even just given the chance to start up a conversation, you’re as good as family.
I’ve had it happen so many times here, from fishing on the Bosphorous to checking luggage at the airport, to yes, standing on line in the bank.
Mustafa was so interested in asking me why I was here and what I was doing, that he gave up his number (another strange custom that I may get around to telling you about) and let the other customers proceed ahead of him. We talked about the city, the school I work at, the time he spent in America, and yes, the driving.
Are you going to get a car, he asked when I said one thing I couldn’t understand was how people drove so fast and recklessly on such tiny streets.
God no!, I replied.
Good, he said. They drive like maniacs here!
So, nice to know I’m not the only one…and nice to see that maybe all it takes is a little patience. Patience, and faith, that you get used to things and when you finally do, things are easier than you imagined. And in that regard, you can get started on living continuously in the moment and relishing every bit of it, rather than wondering why every minute seems like such a challenge.
…stay tuned…

they told me ıt would happen

2008-09-01T01:30:00.000-07:00

...and boy dıd ıt ever.
movıng to a new country can be tough ın ınumerable ways. there ıs the inevitable culture shock, especaılly when movıng to a place as dıfferent from home as Istanbul. Not to say that ıs a bad thıng: rather, culture shock can be quıte an ınterestıng experıence especaılly ın terms of what you learn about your new home. but, you get over culture shock, and ı am antıcıpatıng that what comes after that ıs the love affaır wıth your new home, as I have seen evıdenced ın the behavıors and attıtudes of so many of my new freınds and colleagues.
But,what ı am talkıgn about today ıs the other ınevıtable rıght of passage that must be taken when your body ıs gettıng used to a new envıronment. And, not sure about you, but my whole body, just lıke an army, runs on ıt´s stomach. and, damn, has my stomach gone through an ınterestıng few days.
I can´t tell you what caused ıt, though ı suspect ıt was arugala that ı neglected to wash before ı ate ıt. I can not really descrıbe how I have felt the last few days wıthout soundıng gross, and for God´s sake, thıs ıs a famıly blog, so ı wont detaıl my symptoms.
but, let´s just say that ın the states you call ıt Montezuma´s Revenge.

I guess ıt´s Mehemet´s Revenge over here, though ı don´t know what the hell ı ever dıd to that son of a bıtch to deserve thıs!

So, no detaıls, lıke ı promısed, but at one poınt late last nıght, I was cursıng my decısıon to move here. Remember when you were young and you got sıck away from home for the fırst tıme and all you wanted was to just be home ın your own bed? That was me thıs weekend, between sprınts to the WC! Not a great feelıng, but ı suppose thıs may prove to be lıke the chıcken pox--once you get ıt, you´re golden and you never have to worry about ıt agaın.
I hope.....
Anyway, because of aılments and other thıngs, we have´t had a whole lot of sıghtseeıng tıme.
As I wrıte thıs, I am sıttıng ın my fırst faculty meetıng at my new school, and I am dıssapoınted to report that though ı may now lıve ın a foreıgn country meetıngs are as long, borıng, and suffused wıth the same amount of BS as they are back home...
be cool and ı wıll talk to you soon.

Some pics of our first few days in Istanbul

2008-08-22T04:39:00.000-07:00

We are settling in finally, and life is good so far. I still haven't taken the time to divulge all the details of everything we've been doing, but I've kept notes and promise to start boring you real soon.
In the meantime, here are some shots i've taken on our outings when i've actually remembered the camera. I keep forgetting that even though i live here, i'm still a tourist. Expect to be bored by the pictures i will take in the future, as well...
most of what you will see is between our neighborhood in Arnavutkoy and the Sultanahmet, which the part of istanbul you all know from pictures.
enjoy and talk to you soon...
...oh, one note of clarification. the Turkish language is a great mystery to me and i haven't come anywhere near getting a grip on it, so my spelling of certain Turkish worlds will probably remain completely wrong for some time. just pretend i know what i'm talking about....

the ubiquitous Turkish flag, it's brilliant red and crescent and star are every where you look. The flag makes for a brilliant splash of color in this already colorful city.

There are millions of things for sale in the Covered Bazaar--millions, literally, of things one can buy there. everything under the sun, as they say, and the cliche works. the place is amazing, yet i still couldn't manage to locate the store that sells fishing gear!
And as you can see, there are as many people crowded into the Bazaar as there are goods for sale. While i find it a fascinating place to watch a people and a culture at work and reflecting the true life of the Turks, it is not a place for those with space issues.

the Blue Mosque...

..and the HagiaSophia. read on for more info

the Blue Mosque...impressive , but supposedly not the most magnificent in this city of countless houses of the lord. I'll talk more later on the absolute devotion to Allah that dominates the Islamic culture.

another shot of the minarets of the Blue Mosque

The Ayaspohia, or Hagia Sophia. Built in 537 AD by Justinian, it was a cathedral, then a mosque, now a museum. it is said to be on of the most impressive buildings in the world, but i've only seen it from the outside, so you'll have to wait until i go inside for a full report..

Our place. The gray, ivy colored building on the right...

...this is by far the greatest place I have ever lived in. high rent property in a chic neighborhood. I stand on my balcony and survery my real like am ottoman sultan, laughing at my puny subjects below!

One of many views of one of two bridges in Istanbul that connect the continents of Europe and Asia. this thing looms over the skyline of Ortakoy and at night, it is lit up like a laser show. Quite a fitting sight for a bridge that spans such actaul and metaphorical distances.

a distance view of The Bosphorous and Ortakoy...

The Ortakoy Mosque, about a mile up the road from us, toward Besitkas and the Istanbul of postcards and storybooks...

more of the mosque and the bridge. I find myself taking the same pictures over and over, but the skyline and the architecture of this city are so impressive, it's hard not to see something new in the things you see every day...

...which, i suppose, is a great way to live in an amazing city. I can't imagine you could ever get bored here, or bored with the glorious history that this city bleeds.

I look at the Bosphorous every day, and really, you can't get enough of it. It is a beautiful as it is historic, it changes shape and color by the hour. It is a thing of legend and dreams, the course of empires have ridden its waves, and I wake up every morning listening to see what it has to say next.

Our village...

Early morning light on the Bosphorous

Some of the many boats docked on the banks of the Bosphorous, every thing from pleasure cruisers, to tiny little boats, to barges full of tourists listening to Turkish disco!

Early morning in Arnavutkoy. Arnavutkoy is a fishing village, which used to be home to Greek and Albanian fishermen. Today it is still a little village, but a rather chic little village of expensive fish restaurants and there are still a lot of fishermen, but they are there for fun rather than to make a living. And, it is a hobby for nearly every Istanbul resident, and it is quite something to see an old man who's been doing it all his life right next to some gorgeous girl in high heels and a dress...

check out my view...

2008-08-17T13:41:00.000-07:00

Let's Meet At My Place First?

2008-08-05T21:52:00.000-07:00

So, I'm moving. More on the why and the how later. Let's forget about character development or proper introductions. Let's just set the scene and establish a setting. A maybe we won't even go for the big picture right from start. How 'bout we begin local, and then travel on together to bigger vistas and harder to reach heights? Let me start with my new home.
As per that great font of wisdom, Wikipedia: ..."Arnavutköy (meaning "Albanian village" in Turkish) is a historic neighborhood in Istanbul, Turkey, famous for its wooden Ottoman mansions and fish restaurants as well as the prestigious Robert College campus with its centennial buildings. It is part of the Beşiktaş district of Istanbul, and lies on the European side of the Bosphorus."