Nice Students

This week my students picked a bunch of wildflowers and brought them to me in class. Later I was asking my other class where I could get "Lokma", a specialty here in Izmir, said to be like doughnut holes, but better - of course I was interested. They told me that if anyone died or had a baby, families will give out Lokma to passers-by, but short of anyone passing away or being born, they didn't know of anywhere one could reliably buy this goody. A few hours later I walked into my office only to find a plate of lokma, procured by two of my students.

That is one thing I love about Turkish students, they aren't as jaded as American students; they will still show open affection for their mothers, their friends, their teachers.

Last weekend Okan, his mom, and I went to Cesme (pronounced Cheshmay), a seaside resort town with a castle from the 16th century. I have included some pictures here.

Next Year up in the Air

Yesterday I received word from the embassy that the major cities in Turkey - Istanbul, Ankara, Izmir - will not be renewed for English Language Fellow placements next year. It seems the ELF program took a big financial hit for the 2008/09 fiscal period, and the Turkey mission is refocusing its efforts to target universities where students have limited opportunities to work with Americans. Although I was expecting it, I am still disappointed that I won't be able to be in Izmir next year.

Last night I had a long talk with Craig, the person at the US embassy who is most directly connected to the ELF program. He said that if I'd like to stay in Turkey, he'd negotiate the red tape to transfer me to one of the sites that are available next year. The choices are universities in the following cities: Adana, Gaziantep, Konya, Erzurum, Trabzone, and Denizli.

Part of me feels that I should take the opportunity, as I know that I would continue to learn a lot and grow professionally if I took another post in Turkey. On the other hand I miss the comforts of home, a familiar culture, and my friends and family.

Gerceklestirilecektir or Why Turkish is Difficult

Gerceklestirilecektir is a word; more specifically it a noun with derivational and inflectional suffixes that change it into a verb, indicate tense, plurality, semantic role, etc. It means that something will come to pass (human dictionary: coworker). It was part of an email message delivered to me to my work email address.

Unlike French and Spanish words, which you can look up in a dictionary, in order to look up Turkish verbs, you need to know what the root is, how many suffixes are attached, and the boundaries between them all (f course you don't know this until you learn the language). In addition Turkish verbs carry much more information than Romance or Germanic verbs and are, therefore, pivotal to understanding the utterance. And then there is the whole vowel harmony thing, but that is another story.

On the plus side, strangers sometimes praise me for my "beautiful" Turkish. Would they feel differently if they knew I'd already been here for five months?

Thank Goodness for Cultural Differences

Today, as I was rushing out the door to go teach, I did a quick check in the mirror. Paired with other pieces, the boots, the turtle neck with a pointy collar, or the long short/pants would have been fine, but to my great dismay, I realized that together they made me look like a Star Trek convention escapee.

As most women know, changing outfits is at least a 20-minute prospect, and I had cut the time close as usual, so I was forced to go to school hoping that none of my students would notice my resemblance to Captain Kirk.

Abundance

My mailing address in Turkey delivers packages to my office, so when I returned to work on Monday, my desk was piled high with packages and letters from friends and family: pictures of Preeti's beautiful children; sweaters from Jori; Simpsons and House episodes on DVD, chocolate, coffee from Kirk; candle holders and chocolate from Kirk's parents; various Christmas gifts from my mom; a warm blanket, chocolate, household items from Kelly; a season of South Park, New Yorker magazines, my favorite "hippy" pancake mix, a horoscope from Jay (ok, choclate too) . . . You'd think I'd have a lot of chocolate by this time, but somehow it is conspicuously absent from my house. I'll need to do a thorough search later today. :)

I am noting which things are particularly wonderful (you wouldn't expect that a cloth that soaks up like a sponge but wipes like a cloth could bring so much joy), so I can put together a winning care package for my cousin Sarah who will be spending two years in Central Africa with the Peace Corps starting sometime soon. I have a feeling that her experience there will make my time in Turkey look like EuroDisney.

Lisa's visit was wonderful. We explored downtown Izmir's Kemeralti, endless winding streets of vendors hawking everything from key copies, to Turkish symbols to ward off the evil eye, to fresh squeezed pomegranate juice. We took the bus to the "bad" part of town to visit Kadifekale, a fort build by Alexander the Great. On the coldest day of the year, we explored Pergamon, a series of ruins from the 4th-1st century BC, finally giving up and drinking chai and listening to our friends play Turkish music in the vendor's hut at the entrance of the ruins. When, on the way home my friend, Okan, saw some kids playing marbles on the side of the road, he brought the car to an abrupt stop, turned on the hazards, and joined them (and schooled them on the "real" way to play marbles).

I took it as a personal challenge to make sure Lisa had some excellent baklava before her departure. Needless to say, this took extensive and concentrated research.

Jordan and home again

Kirk and I had an interesting time in Jordan; unlike me, he is very easy to travel with. After spending one night in a particularly seedy hotel in Petra (although the second-hand smoke could be a perk for a smoker wanting to save money on cigarettes; also highly recommended for any lonely cockroaches looking for a meaningful relationship - Cleopetra hotel), Kirk suggested to me that we could possibly spend $10-20 more and stay at a hotel where we didn't have to use a protective layer between ourselves and the bedding, could walk barefoot without fear of disease, and hey, also have hot water.

The Dana Nature Reserve was dry, craggy, and beautiful. We stayed at a guest house run by a conservation society dedicated to maintaining wild places in Jordan while providing a way for the Bedouin people to remain on the land and make a living. On our hike in the reserve, we tracked the elusive white wolf that turned out to look rather like the elusive white dog, Next, on to the Dead Sea, where we wallowed in the mud and washed it off in the salty water. Kirk warned me not to put my head under, but of course, I have never been one to learn from other people's mistakes. On to Madaba where we saw an amazingly intact mosaic map of the Middle East that was created 1,500 years ago. We ate humus, baba ganoush, stuffed wheat balls, and tabouli salad that night at restaurant in Jordan where they actually had wine (hard to find in Jordan). On our last day we did a walking tour of Amman and found an English language bookstore where I stocked up on books and coffee. Kirk saw me off at the airport the next morning for my 4 a.m. flight back to Turkey.

The trip was exciting, but it feels good to be home again. Along with one invited house guest, my best friend Lisa, I also now have a number of uninvited house guests who took advantage of my absence to set up a little cockroach colony in my bathroom. Nothing 12 traps and a bottle of Raid won't handle. . .I hope.

In this post I have included my favorite pictures from my trip. Hope you enjoy them!

Update from Jordan

It has been a while since my last post. Shockingly, I have actually been in a part of the world where Internet is hard to come by.

After Luxor, the group took an overnight train back to Cairo. Beth had had her fill of Egypt and was feeling sick. Being in polluted, noisy Cairo again sealed her decision to leave, so she decided to skip the Sinai and fly back to Denver. I was sad to see her go, but I think she wouldn't have enjoyed the next 24 hours much. Luckily as she left, Kirk joined us in Cairo. Because she vacated a seat on our van, he was able to take it rather than arrange his own transportation to meet up with me later.

We departed Cairo the next morning for the 6 hour drive St. Catherine's monastary and Mt. Sinai. After we left the Nile and crossed under the Suez Canal, the landscape turned rocky, cold, and dry. We arrived at our destination around noon, ate, and began the climb to the summit where Moses was said to have received the ten commandments. Just before dusk we summited. The wind was whipping and cold; the clouds were moving impossibly fast over all the surrounding peaks. Although we had all of our layers on, we were still freezing. Luckily, in true Egyptian fashion, some entreprenuerial types had set up little coffee house shacks near the summit. We ducked in and had the best Nescafe ever with the Bedouins. As we warmed our hands over the coal fire, the man explained how he stays up on the mountain for 20 days at a time, and then stays down fro 20. It was so cold on the summit, the water in my bottle had turned to ice!

The next night was a horror for all on the trip; no one's heat worked in the rooms, and few people slept more than a few winks. When we left the next morning, the group had reached the 'tipping point' for tolerance of lack of comfort. Two hours later, we arrived at our next destination, Sawa Camp. This little rustic camp of straw huts on the beach seemed a perfect place to unwind; however, most of our group decided that they didn't want to risk another cold and sleepless night, so they took off for the nearby Marriott. Four of us stayed and had a marvelous time eating Bedouin food, snorkeling the reef during the day, and playing cards by the fire at night. After two days, the rest of the group returned to Cairo to fly back home, but Kirk and I continued on to Nuweiba where we crossed the Red Sea to the Jordanian port of Aquaba.

We arrived in Petra on Monday and were able to see our first glimpse of Petra by night. At 8:30 pm we started walking on a sandy path with huge boulders all around and cliffs towering in the distance. We would be walking about .6 miles to our destination, and the path was lit only by 1500 candles. The guides asked us not to use flashlights, and although the group was large, we walked in relative silence. As we entered the Siq, huge sandstone cliffs rose up around us. We continued on into the slot canyon; sometmes a ribbon of stars was visible overhead and sometimes the cliffs closed in, obscuring completely any view of the sky. We walked in this manner for nearly 30 minutes until the canyon opened suddenly to the Treasury, a tremendous building carved into the sandstone cliff over 2,000 years ago. Stunned, we sat in the candle strewn plaza and listened to Bedouin musicians as we sipped tea.

We spent the next two days hiking around the slot canyons exploring endless tombs and carvings. They are all equally stunning and tremendous, and one could spend a lifetime exploring the canyons; however, Kirk and I feel that we covered a good amount of ground in two full days.

Tomorrow we will head to the Dana nature preserve and then on to Madaba and the Dead Sea. We will end with early morning flights out of Amman on the 11th.

Aswan, Felucca

Beth woke up yesterday morning and asked me, "I got bit by something last night. Is my eye swollen?"

I looked over and her right eye was puffy Quasimoto style, "a little," I said trying to sound casual, wondering if anyone might have an epi kit available.

Beth had been having a tough 24 hours. We had come from Abu Simbel temple and boarded a boat in Aswan. 48 hours on a boat, no showers, sleeping bags. For me the fun and chance to see the Nile outweighed the discomfort of cold nights and no washing facilities; for Beth, who thinks "roughing it" means a shared jacuzzi, it was a bit more difficult. She read the beginning of her journal entry to the rest of us that day. It began, "Last night was hell. . . " However, I think she is getting in the swing of things. As we disembarked from the boat this morning she said, "If the hotel has hot water and no rats, I'll be in heaven."

We have convered a lot of ground in the last few days. We visited the pyramids just outside of Cairo. They were every bit as amazing as I thought. I went inside (under) one. The passage was about three feet wide and maybe three feet tall, 60 feet long, angling down, leading another small passage. As I went in, I had to control the feeling of claustorphobia that threatened to overtake me. The air got thicker as I decended to a small passage where I could stand upright. Tourists coming back up the same narrow passage way jostled me on their way back to fresh air. After about three minutes, I arrived in a big room that once held treasures but now is cavernously empty.

After the pyramids, we ate Kosheray, a great Egyptian dish of lentils, garlic, onions, pasta, pepper, tomato. . . and who knows what else. We left Cairo by overnight train and arrived in Aswan. We took a boat ride to the Sahara side of the Nile and unboarded amidst the Saharan sand and camels.

One camel was complaining loudly about his lot in life, mouth open, angrily. I made a mental note to give that camel a wide berth. Of course, this was my camel; I got on and leaned forward (I had been warned to do so or risk coming off as the camel going from sitting to standing can be a bit abrupt) My camel became much happier after his keeper got him up and handed me the reins. My camel strode to the front of the group where we led the procession to the Nubian village.

At the Nubian village we ate Nubian food and danced with the children afterwards, and proceeded home to rest up for the early wake up to fly to Abu Simbel the next morning. Abu Simbel was built by Ramses, one very prolific builder. He even took a bunch of temples in Thebes (present day Luxor) and stuck his statues in front, claiming them for his own. Pretty crafty.

The felucca (traditional sailboat) was a relaxing way to to enjoy the Nile. Our crew cooked great food for us, and we had some time to get to know our fellow travelers. Three Aussies, two Canadians, Beth, me, and our fearless leader, Mohammed (pictured sleeping on the deck).

We arrived in Luxor where we took a tour of the town and viewed the temple from afar. It has been cold, so three of us ducked into a store to look for sweaters and found the nicest strangers working in the store. The women there giggled and made us tea as we tried on the clothes. It was a welcome relief from the men who work the street stalls constantly clamoring for tourist attention, for us to come in to their stores, "just look". Although I understand that it is an obvious outcome of the mixing of relatively rich tourists in a poor country, it is still exhausting to have to brave the onslaught of people trying to sell us something day after day.

Tomorrow we ride donkeys to the west bank of Luxor where we visit the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens. Our leader has promised that the views will be fabulous. The next day we will visit the animal sanctuary and then take an overnight train back to Cairo. I know the sanctuary will be difficult; they don't have the luxury to treat animals the way we do, and the state of the animals here makes my heart ache.

Public Service Announcement

Beth and I met up at the hotel on Friday night, and we have been exploring the different sections of Cairo (Islamic, Christian, Jewish). It has been amazing - but too much to see in a lifetime!

We went to a Sufi music and dance performance last night. The Whirling Dervishes, as they are more popularly known, put on an amazing, colorful production. We have visited the Khan (big market) and many mosques. Yesterday as we were leaving the Al Azhar mosque, one of the gatekeeprers invited us to climb to the top of the only double minaret in Cairo. The conversation was in Arabic mostly, but I understood that we would be paying for it "baksheesh". It was steep and pitch black at times and we circled round and round the tiny spiral stairway, but the view from the top was gorgeous and worth every sore muscle today.

Today my friend/colleague Amr met us to show us another neighborhood in Cairo. As the subway train pulled up, he cautioned us to wait for the next train as the current one was packed. Somehow, Beth didn't hear and piled on, so we had no choice but to follow her. The doors were closing with no room left; she was in; we were out, and we yelled to meet up at the next station. Luckily some people saw that we were being separated and pried the doors open and after bouncing off the crowd a few times, shoved our way in. I have never been so packed in public transport before. We literally could not move.

Unfortunately, most of the travelers were men, and in this country where sexes are still so segregated, being so close can cause problems (Amr later told us that two subway cars are reserved for women only). Soon after we got on Beth yells out a public service announcement, "Ok, whoever has their hand on my breast, take it off!" I join in the protest, yell and give dirty looks to the men behind her, some of whom raise their hands up in the air to show it wasn't them. After we got off, it was more funny than anything. Neither Beth nor I are willing put up with any of that kind of funny business, and when people realize that, they leave you alone. We don't feel unsafe here, just annoyed.

This is probably one place where it would be really exhausting to travel alone. I am really glad we booked a trip, so we won't have to worry about logistics. We meet up with our group tonight. Still having fun (Don't worry, Mom)

End of Conference, Islamic Cairo

1 a.m. and Cairo is still bustling like mid-day Manhatten. My presentation went well yesterday; some people even asked for copies of it (I later was told that giving out electronic copies is a sure way to get my presentation plagarized). Ah well, something about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.

This has been a great chance to network and to reconnect with other ELFs (hah!) that I had met in D.C. in August. After comparing notes, I am convinced that I have one of the best countries, posts, coworkers, living situations, students, and RELOs of any other fellows. I definitely got lucky.

Today two teachers from the university, Sara and Amr, gave Natalie and me a tour of Islamic Cairo. They had an incredible knowledge of the history of the area as well as of Islam (they are both studying in the religous school here). Sara "covers", which means she wears a headscarf. She chose to wear it at the age of 18, and describes the decision as being her own because she wants to be more humble.

Honestly, I really can't step outside of my culture enough to understand the headscarf issue. My roommate did have a good point that it isn't the headscarf that oppresses women - that poor and uneducated women in China, India, Central America, Egypt . . . have much the same freedoms (or lack thereof) and that we, in the west, have arbitrarily chosen the headscarf to symbolize that; however, the issues are really those of poverty, class, and education. Nevertheless, there are also well-educated, upperclass women that are choosing to cover . . . I am trying to understand, but it may just be beyond me.

It was so nice today to breeze past the other tourists being heckled by touts because we were with locals. We got to see some areas where not many tourists venture, and had an easy time bargaining. The shopkeeper even asked why a Moroccan (me) was speaking English, not French or Arabic. I read later that one of the mosques we entered is forbidden to tourists. . . I am not sure if we were allowed in because we went to the women's entrance (side) or because we were with Sara.

Beth should be landing in D.C. right about now, then on to Frankfurt, then to Cairo, then Cairo rush hour (24/7). She may be a little grumpy when she arrives. Note to self: get separate room.

Cairo

After some trials and tribulations, I have finally arrived in Cairo. I almost didn't get out of Turkey due to the expiration of my residency permit that I can't renew until I get a letter from Turkey's Department of Education which happens to be on an "unofficial" strike because of political reasons.

The scene at the Istanbul airport had the makings of a bad cliche: I was turned back at customs and told to go to the "post office". "Heh, post office, no problem" I thought, "They probably want me to pay some fine, get a stamp, and go".

Turns out the "post office" was actually "police office" (they sound the same, you know). It was a small office, whitewashed cinder block walls adorned with two no smoking signs. Two police officers (one smoking), me with my pre-beginner Turkish language skills, one of the police officers insisting that I had overstayed my visa. In those situations I like to pretend like I know absolutely no Turkish. I hear them bandying around sums of money for me to pay ranging from $2,500 to $25 and try not to let them see me sweat. The clock is ticking, and my flight is boarding in ten minutes; I have yet to clear security.

Finally, I call my Turkish friend and colleague and ask for advice. I did this partially to let them know that I did have some Turkish contacts who would be willing to help me. Just after my phone call I was escorted to a smaller room with three smoking men, a small conversation ensued, and I was let go with a signature and stamp allowing me exit.

At no time did I feel in any sort of danger, but I did understand that there was a distinct possibility of my missing the flight. Luckily I made it on just in time.

When I arrived in Cairo, my bag had been lost, but I had anticipated this eventuality and carried on my suit, laptop, and everything I needed for the conference. The ride to my hotel was nice because my driver pointed out sites along the way. He was proud of the fact that there were huge churches and mosques next to each other. He wanted me to know that the people here live in peace, despite what one hears through the media. When we crossed the Nile, a shiver ran up my spine just thinking of the thousands of years and many civilizations that had lived and perished by this river.

The next morning the English Language Fellows toured the graduate campus where imams are trained. It is the preeminent center for Qu'ran education, and people who graduate from here go all over the world to teach Islam. Each of us was paired up with a student, and we talked for an hour. I must say, it challenged some of my conceptions of "imams". I expected a traditionally dressed very conservative man. Instead, there were men and women students; my partner wore a 3-piece suit and was a professor of Arabic literature. He explained to me how he respected some things about Malcolm X, but that Malcolm X misunderstood a main point of Islam: every person is equal.

Next we registered for the conference at the American University in Cairo and attended the plenary session. Over 1,200 people attended - teachers from all over the region, many from Egypt. There is an excellent bookstore at the AUC, and I was lucky enough to bump into the buyer. He directed me to some literature by a feminist Egyptian author, some of whose books have been banned in Egypt and another author who gives a good picture of daily life in Cairo.

I stayed up late last night discussing headscarves, Islam, poverty, and education with my roommate, Mandy. She is an English Language Fellow in Kyrgyzstan. Today I am giving my presentation.

To end on a funny note. Washington, in all its wisdom, had decided that we are no longer to use the acronym ELF to describes ourselves because it is not professional. The new title is EL Fellow. Take note!

Leaving on Monday

I just finished up this semester's classes and giving all of my finals early. In one of my conversation classes, we filmed a documentary on Turkish food, dance, and music. I am excited to see how it turns out after editing.

Thirty six more hours until I leave for Cairo. I plan to spent 16 of those hours sleeping, 6 packing and getting to the airport. That leaves me approximately 14 hours to finish grading my papers, learn how to use the online grading system (in Turkish), and finish putting together my presentation. (I know, you are probably wondering why I am taking the time to update my blog. I am wondering the same thing.) At this point, I have to make some triage decisions. . . Much as I'd like to avoid it, I am going to have to bring my grading on vacation with me.

Since I am going to be standing in front of a large group of people on Wednesday evening for 45 long minutes, I am going to redirect my efforts towards my presentation. This is actually the first professional conference I've ever attended , let alone presented at. I don't even know what sort of register people use in presentations - formal and academic, relaxed? Oh well, I am not very good at being formal and academic, so I'll just be me.

I am looking forward to Egypt. I can't believe that I will be seeing the pyramids and all of those things that I've only ever read about. Beth and I decided to leave the tour early (day 10?) and head off to Jordan after we climb Mt. Sinai. Kirk will meet us near the border and cross over into Jordan with us. We will see Petra for a few days, and then Beth has to return to the real world. Kirk and I will spend about five more days exploring Jordan before we fly out of Amman on February 11.

I'll try to update the blog as we move through Egypt and Jordan.

Settling In

Today, as I was talking to my co-worker, I realized that I am beginning to have real friends here. The Turkish society values hospitality so much that a visitor always feels welcome. A visit from a friend or a stranger is seen as a joy and treated as such. Instead of the fold-out couch, the owners' vacate the best bed for the visitor, he or she is to eat first, eat most, and eat the best food, and to be made comfortable in all ways. Although the hosts may be curious about the visitor, they are careful not to ask questions that may be thought impolite.

All this, however, is something different than real friendship and trust which is slowly built and earned, necessarily taking time. Yesterday a co-worker who has always been more than kind to me, but always in the role of fixer and helper, confided in me some sadness she had been experiencing - a love lost in a car crash years ago, and the effects that still linger today. I realized that we had broken through a barrier, that somehow she saw me more as an equal and less of a dependent. Although I think she and my other office mate will continue to call me "yavrum" when they talk about me in the third person (a word meaning young one). My Turkish is getting better, however, and I'll be listening for it.

During New Year's Eve I shared a meal with three friends, Evren, Essen, and Okan. Okan told me to remember that I am not alone in Turkey. If I ever need anything just to call. I realized that Evren and I had gotten past the "polite friends" stage; I know that she has a silly streak beneath her dignified exterior. As a result I have adopted her family's nickname for her "tavuk" chicken. And Essen felt comfortable enough to tell me that I had totally messed up the Turkish coffee, and that I must let her take over if, that is, I want it to be drinkable. . .

I realized today that the call to prayer rarely wakes me up anymore; in fact, its familiar sound has mostly faded into the background. It no longer feels like an expedition to go to the pazar and bargain for vegetables, and the bus system has become (at least semi-)comprehensible. As these friendships slowly grow and I learn my way around the city, the culture that was so foreign to me just three months ago feels a little more like home.

Cultural Relativity

Today in linguistics class we had moved on from the relatively academically intensive subject of phonology to dialects and language policy. We discussed “standard” dialects and how they are really just dialects that have been socially engineered to be perceived as prestigious. I love the quote I heard once, “the standard dialect is a dialect with an army behind it.”

We then moved on to banned languages. I know that I am teaching linguistics, but I can’t help but try to sneak some cultural relatively into the curriculum. I discussed the history of banning languages and gave examples from the other countries; In the past, the U.S. banned American Indian languages in federal and state schools located on reservations and punished students for speaking these languages. Currently there are state and federal laws “English only” which effectively tie the hands of educators and compromise the education of children who weren’t taught English in their homes. In France, the government is trying (unsuccessfully) to keep the French language “pure” by banning American words and other nonsense. I then turned to the students and asked if Turkey had any such history of banning languages (knowing full well that it has a very recent history of banning Kurdish). I was met with blank looks all around. Nope, Turkey has never done such a thing.

Because I have been teaching this group for 12 weeks, I felt emboldened enough to suggest that they might be overlooking some historical facts. More blank looks.

“Kurdish?” I said.

“Oh, Kurdish isn’t a language. They don’t even have a writing system.”

“That is to protect the republic. . . .”

I asked them to put their Turkish cultural values aside for a moment and to become scientists, which is probably enough to have me forcibly removed from the country. Luckily I had a podcast on hand in which a linguist disabuses listeners of some commonly-held beliefs about language. No, the Eskimos don’t have 50 words for snow, all languages are equally complex and descriptive, one dialect is not superior to another, all languages change over time despite language “purists” who believe they shouldn’t, etc.

It is funny, because the students easily came up with examples from Bulgaria and Germany in which Turkish had been banned, but when you ask Turks to objectively look at their own country’s history, there is this huge blind spot. I don’t know if it is because I am an outsider and they just don’t want to talk to me about it or if it is something Turks have not been trained in – cultural relativity. I sense it is the latter.

It reminds me of when I was at the Fulbright/ELF orientation in Ankara. The Turkish government sent representatives to present about the Turkish educational system, the government, and the art and history of Turkey. The experts were all Ph.D.’s, all Turks, well-versed in their fields, politically astute, and used to speaking in public. One Fulbrighter asked the presenter about the Armenian situation. I can’t remember if she used the word genocide or not, but it resulted in a 20-minute tirade that made everyone else in the room squirm. At one point he described how big and powerful Turkey is compared to how small present-day Armenia is; the implication was clear. As for me, I was dumbstruck. I had never seen a public speaker become so enraged. At any moment, I expected one of his companions to remove him from the stage with a cane or something, but in fact, one other panel speaker actually joined in at the end and reiterated some of his ideas.

My Flat

Some people have asked to see what my place looks like. Here it is; not very traditional Turkish, but you can see the extra rooms where you will stay when you come visit (yes you).

Bayram in Eregle

Last week we celebrated the Muslim Sacrifice holiday. It comes from the bible/koran story of Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son (Isaac or Ishmael, depending on the holy book) to prove his devotion. At the last minute, God spares the son and an animal is sacrificed instead.

In present-day Turkey many people still make a ritual sacrifice during this time. Some city-dwellers who prefer not to sacrifice animals donate money to charities instead. When a sacrifice is made, one-third of the meat is given to neighbors, 1/3 is given to the poor, and 1/3 is eaten by the family.

My friend, Evren, invited me to take the 10-hour night bus to her home town and spend the holiday with her family. I had heard buses in Turkey are very clean and comfortable. Although that was true, almost all bus drivers chain smoke and turn the heat up so high that it feels like a hamam! The worst part is that the windows don't open, so you are stuck sweating and breathing recycled smoke. I hear that in April the government has passed a law forbidding the drivers from smoking. I'm looking forward to that day.

We spent four days visiting her family and friends, visiting their parents' childhood village, and traveling to the foot of the Taurus mountains to see ancient rock carvings. Evren has two wonderful sisters; the eldest is a nurse, and the youngest is a computer engineer in Ankara. In true Turkish fashion, the family simultaneously made me feel like a member of the family and an honored guest. My paying for anything was out of the question, and I had to stop expressing my admiration for any of the handicrafts lest they become mine. Evren's mother, Zeynip, gave me a beautiful angora scarf that she had knitted; her cousin gave me a black cape that she had knitted that was formerly part of her chaise (wedding dowry). By the end of the week I had collected so many presents from everyone, they started joking that I now have my own chaise.

One of the most interesting things we did was to visit Evren's parents' childhood village. The families there are mostly sheep herders. They live on an arid plain at the foot of the mountains that receives little rainfall but is blessed with a natural spring. Although I don't eat much meat and have had multi-year stints of vegetarianism, I decided to watch the sacrifice of the sheep. They make sure it is somewhere where there is no blood from previous sacrifices, so that the animal won't be alarmed by the smell of blood. It was difficult to look into the sheep's eyes and see a sort of resignation, but the sacrifice itself happened rather quickly, and I think it suffered little. Although the idea of sacrificing an animal may seem barbaric to some, I think it is much more humane than the way we raise and slaughter most factory-farmed meat in the U.S. This sheep roamed free its whole life.

After the sacrifice, we removed out shoes before entering the adobe-like house. We sat in the largest of three rooms on colorful mats covered with handmade kilims (carpets) that lined the edge of the room. The families insisted that I sit in the corner where the guest always sits and asked me questions about the U.S. while we drank chai. One woman's face and demeanor were so interesting, that I wish we shared a language. She was Kurd (an ethnic group that is discriminated against in Turkey) and Aleve (a Muslim sect that has been persecuted in Turkey). Her husband is neither; I imagine it must have been some kind of Romeo and Juliet story (with a better ending) that led them to marry.

Everything was going along well until I ate some of the bread that was offered to me. I had a bad cold and the bread was quite dry; as I swallowed, I could feel the pieces get stuck in my throat. You know the feeling: you are somewhere very quiet and and you feel that tickle in your throat getting worse and worse. The last thing you want to do is have a gasping-for-air coughing fit, but that is exactly what I did. For a few minutes I am sure the people were thinking that this would be the first time an American visited their village as well as the first time one died there. Luckily I survived.

Christmas in Izmir

I wasn't looking forward to Christmas this year; it was to be the first year I had ever spent it without my family, and I knew it would be difficult. My brother and I had planned a video link up via our computers so that I could "virtually" join my family on Christmas morning. Unfortunately, that was the week my computer finally bit the dust, so there I was, two days to Christmas, feeling lonely and isolated, video link up plans were off, wondering what I would do, maybe the only person to celebrate Christmas in all of Buca (my neighborhood).

Luckily, my friends saved the day. Packages arrived from family in Denver and California with Christmas wishes and gifts; many of my co-workers and students remembered that it was a holiday for me and wished me Merry Christmas, and my friend Okan took me out for Christmas lunch and invited me to use his computer to link up with my family that evening (their morning). It was fun to watch them opening presents with the familiar tree, Christmas music my mom always plays in the background, the dogs taking the warm seats as soon as soon as anyone got up. They even took the computer camera outside so I could see the snow falling.

Sisters to Egypt/Another Year in Turkey

Well it is official, my sister and I are going to Egypt together in January. I can't believe Beth actually got the time off! We are going with Intrepid Travel, a company that focuses on small backpacker-type independent travel itineraries and supports grassroots organizations in each country where it has tours. Intrepid uses locally available transport (instead of big tour buses, we will be on donkeys, camels, local buses, trains, and our feet), sets up hotels, and leaves the travelers free to plan their days.

In addition to diving the Red Sea, seeing the pyramids, spending the night sailing down the Nile in a felucca, and climbing Mt. Sinai, we will visit a garbage collectors organization in Cairo where they recycle the trash into usable items and visit an animal orphanage for abused/neglected animals.

This week I was asked if I would like to renew my fellowship in Turkey for the 2008/2009 school year. It is likely that my post in Izmir will not be renewed as the State Department is trying to move the ELF program to more remote areas, but other posts in Turkey would be available to me. Among those, there is one or two that I think would fit my "professional interests" (warm weather, coastal), so I gave an initial yes. I will have to make my final decision by the end of February. I do hope the post in Izmir gets renewed for another year, however, because I feel like I have just started to form friendships here, gotten my house in order, learned how to get around the city, and learned enough about the culture of DE University to be somewhat effective . Ah, but I must remember that change is the spice of life.

Ambassador Wilson to visit

I just got a call from Craig, the regional language officer in Ankara, and he told me that his boss, the ambassador to Turkey, is coming to visit my university next Tuesday. Craig asked me to arrange the ambassador's visit, from start to finish, including logistics for him and his entourage of 12 people. Ambassador Wilson will be here for an hour in which time he will pay a visit to the rector of our University and then participate in a roundtable discussion with students.

It is very exciting, but I'm also nervous. I better get working. . .

Casanova

One tool I use to try to get my students to take control of their own learning is to periodically ask them to examine their difficulties and successes in language study. The first time I had my students do such an exercise, I didn't explain the reasoning until after they had finished. In response to the question, "This week I made these mistakes.", one of my male students earnestly replied, "I didn't talk with girls".