Purging 300+ lbs

I live in a 700 sq. foot loft, and though I don't consider myself a packrat, I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by my possessions. More accurately, I am acutely aware of the waste of my life energy spent dusting, vacuuming, and straightening, and I have a sneaking suspicion that many of the things I am continually straightening up are not things I really need.

Therefore, I am embarking on a campaign to rid myself of something each week. To hold myself accountable, I'll be posting on this blog.

Week 1: Books
I love books: reading them, learning from them. But the fact is that I rarely, if ever, re-read a book. And for those that I read only once, Denver has a terrific library system. The only occasions when I really want to continue ownership of a books are the following:

• A reference manual where such quality information is not easily/succinctly found on the Internet (my beekeeping, language learning, and gardening books)
• Something that I enjoy thumbing through (straw bale building books)
• Books that I may read again or read to my niece (The Education of Little Tree)
• Books that I enjoy purely for their aesthetic value (poetry or photography books)

So all of the "might read someday" and "maybe I'll get back into teaching and need this" need to go. I will sell some on Amazon if they command a decent price, give some to friends, and donate the rest to charity.

Europe 2010

Just completed a fabulous 3-week trip with my mom in Europe!

Turkey Wrap-up

(Written July, 2008)
It is nearing the end of my visit here, and I find that I am not ready to leave. When I first arrived, I was enchanted by the exotic culture, the language, the muezzin call to the faithful five times each day. Within a couple months, enchantment turned to extreme frustration as I struggled with the language, struggled to do everyday tasks, and missed home immensely. I’m embarrassed now to say that during those days, my alienation led me to suspect Turkey would be improved if it could become a bit more like America.

These days the pendulum has swung back to the middle; I feel more at home in Turkey than I think I will back in Denver. The language has slowly become more comprehensible and the benefits of having a relationship-based society now seem to far outweigh the benefits of American efficiency. I feel comfortable on the streets here where, unlike my home, overt aggression is rarely, if ever, shown. I can say that in Turkey I’ve never seen a customer yell at a sales person, a traffic altercation turn personal, or a parent yelling at a child. That is not to say that people don’t disagree here and clash; however, the understanding is that it will be handled with the bounds of maintaining relationships.

These days, instead of looking to my guidebook when I think of visiting a new region, I mention to my friends where I might go, and offers of hospitality from extended families come pouring in. Instead of feeling the compulsive need to do everything myself, I’ve relaxed into the knowledge that every accomplishment is truly a group effort. Instead of being annoyed at the myriad of interruptions at my office that prevent me from doing my very important work, I realize that that these interruptions-the chai offers and chats-are what make anything and everything I do here possible and meaningful; they are my work. Instead of suspiciously shying away from strangers’ offers of help, I chat with them and almost always end up with better information that the guidebook provided (not once has someone tried to sell me something in the guise of helping me let alone do anything more sinister).

And I’ve come away with some realizations. I’m sorry to say that I have had to toughen my heart to the plight of some animals – so many strays here. I look forward to being in the U.S. where people chase stray dogs through the street in an effort to save them from traffic, where there is somewhere for these animals to go besides the cruel street. I still don’t understand the decision to cover oneself or wear a headscarf, although I believe every person should have the right to do so. I have become utterly convinced that the more any religion influences the governance of a society, the worse it is for people in general and women in particular. I love our (relatively) clean air and environmental protection regulations and realize how incredibly lucky Americans are to have such vast tracts of unspoiled wilderness.

I have often preached cultural relatively and tolerance and I guess in theory I wanted to believe in it, but for the first time I can say that I understand what it means.

Home and Healthy

Thank you for all of your good wishes; they worked! My flight home yesterday was uneventful, and I am now home in Denver. I am feeling healthy; the antibiotics seemed to do the trick.

Back stateside, I had to find a doctor just for a check up after I returned yesterday and realized that being without insurance in the U.S. is really scary. First I tried to go to a walk in clinic for people who have minimal or no insurance. It was full so I was shunted to the emergency room where I was told that the MINIMUM cost would be $500 to see a doctor. The room was dirty, people were sitting on the floor, and the wait was hours long. I left. Thanks to my resourceful sister, Kirk, and the Internet, I found a private clinic with an opening. It was good but not cheap, and had I been sick and needed more tests, the initial round of tests alone would cost $490.

The fact that insurance is tied to one's work - and I have worked many full-time, professional jobs that lack benefits - is really unfortunate. In addition the mega HMOs take a bunch of that money meant for healthcare for themselves. Between that and crazy malpractice insurance thanks to our equally crazy judicial system, healthcare and insurance costs are unaffordable for the middle class. Why do we stand for this?

Ok, end rant. On a positive note, next week Kirk and I are going to a strawbale building workshop in Southern Colorado. I have been informally studying strawbale building for years and participated in some 1-day workshops, so I am excited to spend 4 full days stacking bales, pouring earthen floors, putting up natural plaster, and . . .

On the job front I have an interview for a part-time position on Monday at D.U. and some other interesting possibilities.

Health Update

Sorry for using the blog for "unfun" reasons like health, but I know people are concerned, so I wanted to post here to let you know what is happening.

I have had to go back to the ER, but this time I chose a private clinic. The doctor seemed good and he diagnosed me with E. coli infection. He started me on IV antibiotics because I couldn't tolerate anything in my stomach. I will go back the next two evenings to get IV antibiotics and anti-nausea medication. The last IV I will time so that the anti-nausea meds overlap with my flight back to America on Thursday.

The American duty officer and Consulate in Izmir, and my friends at the embassy are in the loop, and they have been very supportive. My coworker and dear friend Feryal has spent this week being my personal doctor, ER driver, and interpreter, as has my friend, Okan.

The last few days have been pretty hard for me. I feel ok right now and am just hoping that it will continue. If you could send me some good energy or prayers or whatever you do, I could use them now.

A Rather Expensive Hotel

The view from my window is beautiful. The ocean breeze cools the room each morning; all meals are delivered to me in bed, specially designed by a nutritionist with my needs in mind, and someone else does the cleaning. It is really all I could ask for except that people regularly come and stick me with needles and ask me the most personal questions about my bodily functions.

Unfortunately I got rather ill midway through my Turkey tour and had to fly back to Izmir. After some visits to the emergency room, I was admitted to Dokuz Eylul Hospital where I have been for the last two days. It seems that the amoebas that I had ingested somewhere in my travels had started winning the battle in my body. I couldn’t keep hydrated, and finally my stomach started rejecting everything, even water. I had quite a scare when I realized that within a matter of hours of uncontrollable vomiting, I had gone from simply feeling ill to the point where I was having problems focusing my eyes and staying conscious.

Luckily my friends Okan and Feryal rallied and got me to a good hospital quickly. My friends and family back home, who, I am convinced, have a future (or past) in espionage, managed to figure out what hospital I was in and contacted everyone involved, from my best friends here to my ex-boss to the consulate in Izmir (who visited me the next day in the hospital and let me use the official phone to call home. Thanks consulate!).

I am happy to say that I am feeling much better now and am looking forward to being home on Thursday. Perhaps this was a wake-up call from the Universe,”Stop worrying about the minutiae and be thankful for the important things!” Message received – no more reminders necessary.

On to Northeastern Turkey

After tunneling around Cappadocia, Okan and I headed up to Bolu to take in the scenery before traveling to Ankara where we would catch our train. Bolu was pretty but a bit on the conservative side. Okan and I were refused the room we had reserved because we weren't married. No matter that we are just friends, the fact that I have a boyfriend back home. . .and they didn't have another room available. So we hightailed it back to Ankara a little earlier than expected and stayed with Okan's extended family and toured the ethnology museum in Ankara (recommended).

The next day we caught our train to Kars. The journey was to be 26 hours (though it turned out to be 29). I was ecstatic when we got to our sleeping car. It was beautiful, clean, and even had a sink and a small refrigerator. I would curl up with my two books and look out the window occasionally as we crossed mountains and the Euphrates river. I had made sure that the train was non-smoking, so best of all, I was looking forward to escaping the cloud of smoke that is present anywhere Turkish men congregate.

Unfortunately, as I should have learned by now, in Turkey the rules have little to do with reality. As soon as the train set off, our cabin filled with smoke from the adjacent cabins. The conductor explained that he could do nothing, and, in truth, I think he was contributing to the air pollution. We finally managed to get him to unlock the top window so I could at least open it when the air quality reached red; however, it had to be shut immediately upon entering a tunnel lest one get a mouthful of deisel smoke. By the end of the trip Okan was mimicking me rather convincingly, "Close! Open! Oh, horrible, horrible, close, close!" I did fashion an elegant headpiece that, when soaked in tea tree oil, kept the smells at bay. Also works for dirty bathrooms. You may see it in Paris next spring.

When we finally arrived in Kars, I was disappointed to see that that town wasn't as ramshackle and seedy as Orhan Pamuk had painted it in his novel, Snow ("kars" in Turkish). We met up with a Spanish couple the next morning, and they were driving to the thousand-year-old deserted Armenian capital of Ani nearby, so we hitched a ride with them. The ruins were amazing.