Today I met my students and taught my first linguistics and conversation classes. All of my students are undergraduates, and I am teaching just the freshmen and sophmores. The first years were very timid. As they sat down, they filled up only the very back chairs of the classroom, leaving the two front rows completely empty.
Although their grammar skills are excellent, they have never spoken with a native speaker of English; most have only studied with Turkish-born speakers. So to them, my accent was quite difficult to understand. They seem to be very bright and eager - the girls especially. Some of the boys I can already tell are going to be a challenge. I've already found the "joker" - I think there is one in every class.
Speaking of challenging, the linguistics class is going to stretch my abilities. We are covering all of the major branches of linguistics from phonetics to phonology to semantics to tree structure diagrams. A dirty little secret is that I've never really done a tree structure diagram, because my linguistics department wasn't exaclty Chomskyesque (new word). I keep telling myself that I just need to say one chapter ahead and at least act confident.
As I mentioned earlier, the students' grammar skills are incredible. I was corrected today by Okan when I called a verb past tense, but it was really progressive something, something. Note to self: learn English verbs inflections before next Monday.
As native speakers, we just *know* how to use all of the simple, progressive, perfect, perfect progressive aspects and how to pair them with the present, future, and past tenses. But to explain that is another matter entirely. . . Do you know how to explain difference between these three sentences and when to use each?
She has been studying.
She had been studying.
She will have been studying.
Me neither; I will be learning A LOT this semester.
As I have been able to talk to family and friends on Skype during the last few days, I realize how easy technology has made going abroad. I remember just 12 years ago when I spent four months in Kenya. Letters and the occasional phone call (when you could find a working phone and figure out how to use it) were the only communication I had. Now I have email, a cell phone, a land line, and Skype. I guess it is kind of the best of both worlds: experiencing a new culture with the ability to stay in touch with the people you love.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Tavla, Mildew, Community
During the last few days I have visited downtown Izmir, tried (in vain) to figure out the bus system, and spent some time trying to renegotiate my housing. Today I have about 16 hours before I sleep again to plan develop the curriculum and write up the syllabi for the four college courses I will be teaching starting Monday.
First, the fun stuff: Ahmet took me on a city tour on Friday after work. We went down to the main downtown area along the sea. There is one main walking mall with no cars. There are lots of stores, bars, and cafes along the pedestrian mall. The narrow alleyways that lead to it are often narrow and dotted with cafes where people sip strong tea or Turkish coffee and play backgammon, known here as tavla. Ahmet taught me how to play Tavla and was very patient as I picked my way around the game board.
I played again last night when a group of six of us gathered around Esin's table for dinner. Okan wasn't as patient with my speed. His friends laughed from the sidelines and supplied me with the words for Turkish equivalent of "be patient". Whether it be pool in the U.S. or tavla in Turkey, there is a certain type of guy that feels that it is his duty to show you (women particularly) the errors you made, and what would have been a better strategy. During the game Mustafa told me not to worry, that, "everybody who plays Okan wins".
The day before I had asked Ferayal if she could intervene and get me a room that was farther from the street (and the very noisy buses). She talked to the manager but warned me the one remaining room was very dirty and would need cleaning. She wasn't kidding. Every surface was filthy. Okan, Esin, and Adim , the manager, all helped me scrub everything in the room. While I was at the market, Esin attcked the bathroom with a vigor rivaling that of a German mother. Despite our work and copious amounts of bleach the smell of mildew is still overpowering two days later.
I retired to my room yesterday afternoon feeling overwhelmed with my inability to communicate or use the bus system, missing my family, frustrated that I can't figure out how to solve the simplest problems myself because of the language barrier, and upset about the disgusting mildew. Okan came by to invite me to dinner, and he could tell that I had been crying. Minutes later his mother came down. Although she can only count to ten in English, and my Turkish skills are lesser still, I could understand very clearly what she was saying. She saw that I had been upset, and then started crying herself. Although she was speaking only Turkish, her message transcended language. She wanted to know why I was spending time alone when I was unhappy and that I should always come knock on her door, anytime. She made it clear that I was to come with her where she could keep an eye on me while she cooked dinner.
Later during dinner, their friends came by one by one until there were six of us around the small table. We ate more good food, though I don't know what it was and, of course, drank tea. My colleague, Ferayal called to see if I needed anything or for her to take me anywhere. The funny thing is that she called Esin and Okan's room. Evidently she had called the manager who knew I was up in that room, and he forwarded the call. Small world.
First, the fun stuff: Ahmet took me on a city tour on Friday after work. We went down to the main downtown area along the sea. There is one main walking mall with no cars. There are lots of stores, bars, and cafes along the pedestrian mall. The narrow alleyways that lead to it are often narrow and dotted with cafes where people sip strong tea or Turkish coffee and play backgammon, known here as tavla. Ahmet taught me how to play Tavla and was very patient as I picked my way around the game board.
I played again last night when a group of six of us gathered around Esin's table for dinner. Okan wasn't as patient with my speed. His friends laughed from the sidelines and supplied me with the words for Turkish equivalent of "be patient". Whether it be pool in the U.S. or tavla in Turkey, there is a certain type of guy that feels that it is his duty to show you (women particularly) the errors you made, and what would have been a better strategy. During the game Mustafa told me not to worry, that, "everybody who plays Okan wins".
The day before I had asked Ferayal if she could intervene and get me a room that was farther from the street (and the very noisy buses). She talked to the manager but warned me the one remaining room was very dirty and would need cleaning. She wasn't kidding. Every surface was filthy. Okan, Esin, and Adim , the manager, all helped me scrub everything in the room. While I was at the market, Esin attcked the bathroom with a vigor rivaling that of a German mother. Despite our work and copious amounts of bleach the smell of mildew is still overpowering two days later.
I retired to my room yesterday afternoon feeling overwhelmed with my inability to communicate or use the bus system, missing my family, frustrated that I can't figure out how to solve the simplest problems myself because of the language barrier, and upset about the disgusting mildew. Okan came by to invite me to dinner, and he could tell that I had been crying. Minutes later his mother came down. Although she can only count to ten in English, and my Turkish skills are lesser still, I could understand very clearly what she was saying. She saw that I had been upset, and then started crying herself. Although she was speaking only Turkish, her message transcended language. She wanted to know why I was spending time alone when I was unhappy and that I should always come knock on her door, anytime. She made it clear that I was to come with her where she could keep an eye on me while she cooked dinner.
Later during dinner, their friends came by one by one until there were six of us around the small table. We ate more good food, though I don't know what it was and, of course, drank tea. My colleague, Ferayal called to see if I needed anything or for her to take me anywhere. The funny thing is that she called Esin and Okan's room. Evidently she had called the manager who knew I was up in that room, and he forwarded the call. Small world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)