Cairo, here I come!

I just found out that I have been accepted as a presenter for a conference in Cairo in January. Even better news is that it looks as if the embassy is going to pay for my travel and stay in Cairo! Some other English language fellows have been accepted, so we will be traveling and staying together there. Now I just have to convince my audience that I actually know something. . .

I am off to Akyaka this weekend, a beach town south of Izmir. The regional language officer from the American embassy and his wife own a beautiful house there. They have generously offered it to any of the fellows when it is not being rented, so. ..

I know you are thinking that my life is pretty cushy (and I'd have to agree), but remember, 9 days out of 10 I have to bathe from a bucket.

All of my classes are going very well with the exception of my educational theory class. I nearly had a revolt yesterday when I gave out a not-so-pop quiz.

Hagia Sophia

When *not* to practice your Turkish

Today my new neighbor had me over for cay (tea pronounced chai). I was practicing how to say I like something and how to say that I don't like something. After my long dissertation about how I like Turkish coffee and I like cay but that I really dislike Nescafe, I went to sip my cay that was not cay after all. It was Nescafe with milk, the color of which really resembles cay. I realized this uncomfortable fact as I was lifting my glass to take the first sip. I quickly explained to her that I do like Nescafe very much if it is sutlu (with milk). Crisis averted? Maybe.

I told my students that they could come over and trick or treat tonight if they have costumes. I don't think they really know where I live, but I better go buy candy, just in case.

In Istanbul

Just a quick note - I am visiting my friend, Natalie, in İstanbul. It is absolutely beautiful here. Yesterday we went on a Bosphorous cruise. In a few minutes we are going to the Hagia Sophia,(pronounced aeeah Sophia) then the Blue Mosque, then off to eat Kofta and maybe get lost the bazaar. Pictures to follow.

Pictures of Tinaztepe and Efes

Yavrolar, Epheseus

Cute puppies (yavrolar) at my old guest house

The Roman ampitheatre at Ephesues (Efes)

Me singing a round of Frere Jacques with other tourists in the center of the ampitheatre in Efes (good acoustics)

Library at Efes

moving, pidgin French, Turkish military,

Thanks to Craig, the regional language officer from the embassy, and my department head, Guldan hanim, I now have fabulous new digs. I went from a very small one-room studio to a huge three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with two outdoor decks. The apartment is located inside of the gates of the campus where I work, so it is quiet and only 30 seconds from my office. I live on the second (top) floor of a 4-plex. Two families live in the flats below, and the fourth flat is vacant. The father of the family below speaks Turkish and French. I speak some French, so we communicate in some pidgin Turkish/French that would, I think, constitute a crime in France.

Yesterday a group of students was marching just outside the gates of the school. It was an anti-PKK rally. Evidently Turkey is massing troops on the border of Iraq because they think that the Kurdish region of Iraq is harboring terrorists that are threatening Turkey. Even though the Turkish army has far more resources that any PKK faction, there have been a number of losses on both sides. Being one of the few stable areas in Iraq, the U.S. government is trying to prevent Turkey from crossing the border; however, the Turks seem to support an incursion. The more losses Turkey sustains, the more people seem to want to cross the border.

Good News Article

The Armenian Genocide Resolution and its effect on Turkish-American relations has been in the headlines lately. I haven't encountered any people that were hostile to me because of it, but I think it is, nevertheless, on the minds of many Turks.

I think the following article sums up the issue pretty well without taking sides: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=15271077
Click on the "Listen" button on top.

I'm an "elder" now!

Today I decided that I'd make my way to Ikea via public transportation. As usual, I didn't know where I was going. I knew I'd be going to the neighborhood of Balçova; unfortunately my map of Izmir cuts off just before it.

Again, I was saved by the help of strangers. I managed to let the bus driver know that I wanted to go to Ikea (pronounced ee, kay, ay, ah). He motioned for me to stay on the bus, and at the end of the line, he showed me the next bus to take. He then conferred with my new bus driver and pointing at me, in case I didn't stand out enough, made sure the new bus driver would help me find my way. At the end of the line, I trundled off in the direction he pointed.

On the way I ran into a group of four young teenagers. The first boy came up to me and pressed my hand to his chin, then to his forehead, a sign of respect for elders. The other boys followed suit, wished me iyim Bayramlar ("happy holidays"), and passed on. The next group of children did the same thing and via sign-language notified me that Ikea was closed. Undeterred because I had glimpsed the fluttering flags of Ikea, I continued on. Although it was closed, I happily waited the hour for it to open.

Arriving at the outdoor walking mall was like being back in the U.S. - everything was clean, predictable, there was a Ralph Lauren, a Starbucks, . . .places I wouldn't usually go, but in the middle of Izmir, somehow eerily comforting. (Starbucks coffee costs even more here than in the U.S.)

Classes, Turkish bus driver

Adapting to being a teacher in a real class room is tough. For linguistics, I just have to read the text well and find relevant examples for lecture. In some ways, this is my easiest class because I know it fairly well, and I don’t have to be too creative.

Approaches to Education is, perhaps, my worst class. Honestly, I am not really qualified to teach it. My exposure to the different teaching methodologies consists of a cursory review in one education course a few summers ago. I think I also don’t see the benefit of a lot of these methods, so it is hard to get really excited about them; however, I think it will be good for me to have a better background in the history of language teaching.

Conversation classes are good. I have three sections, and I like that I can be as creative as I want. I am planning on doing a few large projects that can be recorded or filmed. The first is adapting the “This I Believe” curriculum from NPR. We will have small-group discussions based on questions made to help students’ evaluate their world views, values, etc. that will (hopefully) culminate in a 1-2 minute speech on what they believe to be true about the world.

Last week I had every conversation class do activities discussing what rules they will have when they have their own classrooms. The groups presented their rules to the class, and then we came together to form our own classes rules. It worked pretty well, and I think there will be higher student buy-in because they created and committed to the norms of the classroom.

Grammar class is the biggest struggle – how do you teach grammar in an engaging and communicative way?

Yesterday and today were a little disheartening. I had been warned that many students might not show up to class on Wednesday and Thursday because Bayram has begun, a holiday that marks the end of Ramazan. On Wednesday morning two of my 30 students showed up to tell me that the class had decided not to come to my class (or the other teacher’s) that day. They also told me, “we are not here”. It was kind of funny, but I wasn’t sure if there was a cultural misunderstanding, if this is normal, or what. . .asking my co-workers didn’t exactly shed light on the situation. The two students that "weren't there" did stick around to chat with me. They gave me the low-down on the soccer teams, and a mini-lesson in Turkish verb structure.

On Sunday my go-to guy at the embassy, Dr. Craig Dicker, English Language Officer, will be coming to Izmir. We will have dinner/lunch on Sunday, and then on Monday we’ll tour the Turkish American Centers and American Corner with which I am supposed to liaison this year. Naively (you think I’d learn), I asked my co-worker Feryal if she could recommend a restaurant. Not only could she recommend one, but insisted on walking me there, which turned into lunch, which turned into her treating, which turned into the restaurant owner treating, ah Turkey!

On the bus ride home today, the bus driver said something to me in Turkish. Although I rarely understand the questions posed to me, usually I answer by telling them I am an American, as that tends to be the first question posed to me. After I told this to my bus driver, he happily spoke to me on fluent and fast Turkish. I smiled. Then he stopped the bus in the middle of traffic, opened the door, and yelled to his friends inside the Kabop restaurant. What I understood was, “. . . . Amerikan . . . . “ His friends smiled and waved, and we drove on. People in the back of the bus were giggling by this time. Next we stopped at the guard gate where he introduced me to the "chef". Why he was introducing me to a cook was beyond me, but again, I smiled and waved. As we went on, I realized he had just introduced me to the chief – maybe of police, maybe of the bus company, not sure, but a big wig. All this royal treatment AND he dropped me off right in front of my guest house.

Rumi Statue, View of Izmir

Tonight my co-worker Ahmet invited me over for dinner then took me up to see the huge Rumi statue. On the way to his place we passed a mosque that had just been built by an ex-prime minister sort of person for her father. There is a nice little tea house at the base of the statue where we sipped chai and looked out over Izmir.

Don't Worry

Just wanted to jot a quick note. I don't know if it will make international news or not, but just in case it does. . . There was a bombing in Izmir today, but I am fine.

More later.

Melanie

First Day Teaching

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.

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.

Markets, Washing Machines, and Baby Sheep

I broke my jet lag avoidance rule and let myself take a nap yesterday, so here I am at 4:20 with ideas swirling around in my head, unable to sleep.

Yesterday Ferayal took me to the shopping mall where I bought home products (linens, dishes, food, etc.). She also took me to buy a cell phone, then helped me to choose a cell phone company that gave me my phone number and activated my phone, then she helped me buy contours, or phone credits so that my phone would work. Lastly we went to the market where we bought produce. She showed me how to buy produce –what is good, what isn’t – with much higher standards than we demand at our supermarkets. The villagers come in to town every Wednesday and Sunday to sell their produce and textiles at a huge husting open-air market..

Throughout the day she insisted on treating me; first it was lunch, then Turkish coffee, and then produce at the market. At the supermarket, I (rather skillfully, I thought) mimed to the clerk that I would pay for the drinks. Ferayal told her in Turkish that I was her guest, and the clerk promptly refused my money and took Ferayal’s instead. Turks have a strong ethic of taking care of their guests and showing them true hospitality.

Without Ferayal’s help, I have no idea how I would have done all of that. For instance, the cell phone system is extremely different here than it is in the U.S. Instead of signing up for a plan with a company, people buy counturs(sp) which are basically cell minute credits that must be used in 3 months. You continue to recharge your phone with these credits. Calls to cell phones of your provider are cheapest, calls to cell phone holders who use different providers are more, calls to land lines cost more still, and whether calling or receiving, out-of-country calls will cost you an arm and a leg. Although people know the gradation, no one really knows exactly how many contours for each item. As far as I can tell, it is a diabolical plan on the part of the cell phone companies.

When I got home I decided I’d take a try at the washing machine. The similarities the washers here share with the ones at home follow: they are white, box-shaped, and I’m pretty sure they use water and electricity. Beyond that, there were tons of buttons with bewildering pictures that are intuitive to some Turkish industrial designer. There were also a number of signs in the laundry room punctuated with copious exclamation points elaborating some message that all users should be aware of before doing laundry. My pocket dictionary contained about ¼ of the words on the sign.

One hour later, I had a still dirty and now half-soaked blanket. I caught up with a woman walking down the stairs and asked if she spoke English. Edin did not speak English, but she came up and mimed to me that the washer I had chose was broken. Only one of the set of three worked.

A few minutes later her son, Okan, knocked on my door. Edin had alerted her son that I needed remedial home-economics training. Her son speaks some English and he explained/mimed how to use the machine.

A few minutes later still, my landline rang for the first time. Okan wondered if I liked coffee and would I join them in room 206. I agreed. Since my room is 204, it seemed that their room, 206, should be rather near. Later I would find that it is two floors above me and on the other wing of the building. I couldn’t find it, so I returned to my room. About 15 minute later, Okan found me wandering around with a trash bag in my hand. Giving me a quizzical look after I put together what my dictionary and travel book represented as a well-formed sentence asking where I’d find the dumpster, he took the bags, walked across the street, and dumped them in the dumpster.

Okan, a Ph.D. candidate in statistics, shares a room the size of mine with his mother. The rooms in this building are the size of a small motel room with a bathroom, a mini-fridge, and a sink. Mine also has a bed, a chair that folds out to be a bed, a kitchen table/desk, two small chairs, and a bedside table. In my mind I had been going over plans to convince the powers that be that I needed something larger, but when I saw that both Okan and his mother lived in the same space that I live in, I became immediately more content with my lot. Okan has two computers, a huge flat-screen monitor on which he somehow gets television stations, and, wonder of all wonders, high-speed Internet. He assured me that he could help me get Internet in my room too. Tomorrow he will go out and buy the requisite cable and then help me to get hooked up. Skype, here I come.

We had apples, grapes, tea, and pastries. When I left Okan’s mother told him to tell me that I was her “baby sheep” while I was here, and that she would help me. If ever I was hungry, I should come by and she would cook for me. It reminded me of something I read once, that all travel is essentially meeting new people and convincing them that they want to take care of you. In Turkey it seems that one doesn’t have to do a lot of convincing.

Turkish Hospitality, Ramazan, and Kurds

Today made me understand why everyone who has been to Turkey talks about how welcoming the Turks are. First Ahmet, a faculty member of the education department, came to pick me up at my place to take me to school, so that I wouldn’t have to take the bus on the first day. He drove me to school and even drove around the campus to show me the exact stop where I would be getting off the bus tomorrow.

He took me to my office which I share with Ferayal and another woman whom I’ve not yet met. Ferayal is a vivacious and extremely well-read professor in the education department. Her Ph.D. is in literature, but she teaches everything. My desk was ready for me with a computer and a high-speed Internet connection. Ferayal asked me when my birthday is (January 18th), and she promptly presented me with an early birthday gift – a small carpet to “add some color” to my room. I met Berna, the research assistant and another faculty member Nesryn, who just passed her Ph.D. oral defense.

When Ferayal noticed that I was having trouble navigating the computer menus in Turkish, she made a call to the computer lab and three computer students were promptly sent to fix the problem. While they were adjusting my settings to English, the girl’s stomach growled loudly. Ferayal offered her a piece of candy, but the young woman declined because she is fasting for Ramadan. Later Ferayal offered the young man fixing the computer something to eat, but he also declined. He said that although he was not fasting, out of respect for those who are, he preferred not to eat in front of them.

I later asked Nesryn about the meaning of Ramadan (Ramazan here in Turkey). Why do people fast? She explained that it is a lunar month set aside for fasting from sunset till sundown – that means no water, no food, no cigarettes, nothing. The fasting is to remind Muslims what it is like to go without. For one month a year, they are to experience what it feels like to be hungry so that they may build empathy for those who truly are. Women who are pregnant or nursing, children, the old, and the infirm are not expected to observe the fast. I think that few if any of my colleagues are fasting although I think they keep the spirit of Ramazan close to them.

At the end of Ramazan, a three-day festival called Baryan will be celebrated. Each household that can afford it slaughters a goat. The goat is to be divided into thirds. One-third goes to the poor. Nasryn says that some people are so destitute that this is the only time their families are able to eat meat. Another third goes to one’s neighbors, and the last third goes to the household for a feast. Neighbors then go door-to-door to share food and celebrate in everyone’s house. What important society values that Islam encourages – to care for people less fortunate, to share your bounty with them, and to engender community.

I am stunned at the level of sophistication of the teachers here. Although they seem to be relatively young, they are not only well-versed in their Ph.D. field, but they have an extremely in-depth knowledge of other fields such as linguistics, ESL, teaching methodology, as well as many publications to their names. Almost all teaching in higher-education here is in English. The faculty is completely fluent, and I expect that the students will also have excellent English skills.

Nasryn invited me to her home for lunch/dinner. She first walked me down the pedestrian mall (most neighborhoods have one), where you can buy just about anything you want. We stopped and she bought ingredients for kofta – a Turkish meatball. Nasryn is from southeastern Turkey and she is a Kurd. Although Kurds fought in the war for Turkish independence, they were not given the recognition or freedoms they were promised after the republic was established. In fact, they were persecuted in much the same way that blacks were in post-Civil War U.S. Until recently, it was illegal to teach the Kurdish language in schools. Even today the Kurds in Turkey have substandard schools and their home geographic regions have little infrastructure. The language is taught at only a few private schools, and their political parties are often abolished by the government as soon as they are formed. It was really interesting to speak with her because I was warned repeatedly not to broach the subject of Kurds or Armenians with (non-Kurdish) Turkish people.

Although I said that I would post pictures on my blog, my camera, unfortunately, bit the dust today. It has been slowly dying, but usually tapping it makes it work for a few more shots. I had to resort to rather hard “tapping”, and I don’t believe it will be working again.

Doubts

Ferayal came by around 9:30 p.m. and delivered groceries to me – water, apples, pizza, ice tea, and a delicious salad of tasty greens and tomatoes. I feel very alone right now. No Internet connection to talk to my family.

I’ve blown the power out in my room at least 20 times trying to find the right union between Turkish outlets, my adapters, my voltage converter, and my appliances. Seems some are grounded; others are not, and plugging in a grounded appliances to a non-grounded outlet has seriously bad consequences such as leaping sparks and loud cracks.

Still can’t get power to my laptop, so I am trying to use it judiciously.

I miss Duncan and Kirk, my friends, my family, my home. I am beginning to realize all of the good things I’ve given up to come here. I hope it is worth it.

I doubt there is any way I can get Internet in my room. The a/c doesn’t seem to work, and my screen won’t fit into my window. The maintenance man doesn’t speak English and my Turkish is abominable. I am not even sure if the infrastructure in Ïzmir would allow for a high-speed connection. That would sure be nice because I wouldn’t feel so isolated her at 3:24 in the morning, no one to talk to. What if I just ran out in the hallway and started screaming, would anybody come out to help?

Arrival

I arrived in Izmir today after about 22 hours of travel. Professor Ferayal Çubukçu and Ahmet came to collect me and 150 lbs of luggage at the airport. They whisked me to my housing, and, assuming I’d be exhausted, left me here to sleep. Ferayal tried to make me promise not to leave the housing, but I knew that I’d need to go out and get some food or something, which I did. When they left, I walked into the bathroom and realized that while “freshening up” before meeting them at the airport I had put my shirt on wrong-side-out (and obviously so). So much for good impressions.

I am surprised at how little I can actually communicate here. At least in France, Spain, Italty, Germany. . .there are some cognates, but here, nothing is familiar. I managed to buy some ayran (a salty yogurt drink) olives, trash can, and toilet paper by pointing and mumbling something like “thank you”.

My studio is very small – the size of my kitchen at home, but I think it will be sufficient. On the plus side, I think it will be harder to lose things in a place this size, and cleaning should be easy.

Information - finally

T minus 6 days and counting. After a little poking and prodding , I finally received information about where I will be staying in Izmir - the University Guest Rooms in Buca, which, I think, is a neighborhood in Izmir. My apartment will have a private bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. Although the bedroom and living room may be in the same room (studio-style), the place is partially furnished, so I won't have to worry about getting a bed or sofa.

Although I won't be near enough to see the ocean from my place, I will be about 2 minutes from campus and within a metro ride of Ikea! I've been hoping for Ikea to come to Denver for years; seems that I have to move to Turkey in order to have one in my city!

As soon as I get there and find an Internet connection, I will take some pictures and post them on my blog site.