sekiz A sekiz B

On my way home from the center of Adana the other day, something wonderful happened. I was sitting next to a woman on the bus who was chatting with a few other women, all of whom were dressed pretty conservatively and wearing headscarves. I observed the women for a few moments becuase people watching is the best way to pass time on the bus and then went back listening to my ipod. About 15 minutes into my 35ish minute ride home one of  the women turned to me and asked if I knew my way around Turgut Ozal, the rode my bus goes on. I know it pretty well riding it almost everyday to and from my Turkish course and told her so. She asked if I knew a restaurant that is on the way back and I told her my stop was after and I would tell her where to get off. She thanked me and when the time came I pointed out where to go, she replied iyi aksamlar (good evening) as she and her friends left the bus. Though it seems like no big deal, for me it was exciting. Giving directions in a city is the equivalent of translating from one language to another, like evidence that are fluent in the place you live. When me as a yabanci (foreigner) was able to give directions to a person from Adana it was proof that I am living in a place that at least in some ways I can call home.

 From living in Barcelona and Badalona I discovered what a joy it is to learn your way around a new city. Some of my most memorable days were wandering around Gracia or Barrio Gotico on spring days and discovering new cafes and shops. Adana is admittedly very different than Barcelona but I have enjoyed learning my way around this city. There have of course been some minor missteps, but that is half the fun of figuring it out. Once Rebecca and I decided to take a break from our normal 8A green bus and took a dolmuş, a sort of small bus, and ended up on an unfamiliar street. It didn't take us long to find our way to the right bus but our mini-adventure was exhilarating. We realized that we had finally made it to that point in Turkish that if we were lost or needed help with something we could ask for it.

Even on San Juan I enjoy giving directions, and can remember clearly the times in Barcelona I was asked where to go.  Part of why its seems like a such a big deal to me is probably because I grew up in a place so small that I rarely had to ask for directions and when I did they were given in reference to places like 'the Jangard's house' or 'the rock.' Here, I am not really asked for directions, most likely because my hair color tends to attract more questions on where I come from rather than where to go. So when mistaken for somebody that looks like they actually might be from here or know where to go, I soak it in.

There are many definitions of when and how you call a place home. In some respects I feel that I have never been able to call a place home like I have San Juan, but I would also claim to feel at home in my 5th floor apartment in Adana, Turkey. Giving directions, especially to a place I pass everyday, is no claim to being a local, or even knowing my way around the city but it does feel pretty good to feel like I am getting a handle on my surroundings. After seven months one would hope so.

Sitting On My Balcony Feeling Fortunate

My weekend is rapidly coming to a close, and tomorrow I will be back to school ready to face the new week. Sahalie, my fellow blond, and one of my American friends is staying at my house. Her host mother is in Azerbaijan (a trip we begged to go on) and because my host mom and her host mom are good friends they sent her to live with us for ten days. It is nice to have her here and especially good to have somebody to go to the gym with while Rebecca, my usual companion is in Istanbul with her natural family.

Friday was a welcome last day of the week, and we got out early to teach our English classes. It was a big day because Kenzie and I had prepared a test for our class. From giving a test I feel like I had a bit of an insight to how my teachers back at home felt on test days. First, I realized that it is not only hard for the students. I was worried that if the test was too easy they wouldn't try as hard from now on, but if it was too hard they would become discouraged. Fortunately, though I felt like it went really well, Kenzie came up with some really good questions, and we now know what they do and don't understand. I take the class probably why more seriously than I should, but I really enjoy teaching them.


Saturday after eating a ginormous Turkish breakfast we hit the gym, and had a good workout. I have been a bit embarrassed lately because the man who owns my gym asked me the other day if I had beer in my Klean Kanteen. I guess they are not that common here. Though really, who would work out while drinking beer?

Also on Saturday, we did something very out of the ordinary. We went out in Adana. It took a lot of preparation, and the buildup was extreme, but we actually made it out. It hasn't really bothered me that we don't go out here because it's really not all that common, nonetheless it was a nice change. We, the four of us as rebecca was gone,  arranged it with one of the AFS volunteers. Asking for permission from my host mom was somewhat terrifying because though I really love her I maintain a healthy bit of fear that keeps me in line (not that I'm not afraid of you mom and dad!) It was so unnatural for me to get nervous just to ask if I could stay out till 12:00ish. Eventually, I got up the courage and surprisingly she was ok with it, but just till 12:00, and I don't argue with my host mom. Actually I don't think the prime minister of Turkey would argue with my host mom. It felt slightly like a high school dance, taking more time to choose what to wear than the actual event, but we had a good time.


It was nice to get out, but the best part of my weekend was what I spent at home. With Sahalie, Sophie, Rebecca and Kenzie we have a great time. Also I love that we can be at my house and talk with my family and it just feels natural. I am at home here. I have really felt that with my host mom and sister lately. My host mom jokes with me and calls me aşkım which means love and I feel so comfortable around them. Plus it is so nice that my friends can be over and Dilşad can hang out with us, or not and I feel no strain whatsoever.


Sunday morning we ate and even bigger Turkish breakfast than the day before, with lots of simit, and lounged around chatting for most of the day. When Kenzie and Sophie left Sahalie and I cleaned up my very messy room, and then sat out on the balcony to enjoy the warm air. Adana already feels well into spring and it was a beautiful day. I made us Turkish Coffee and we chatted about our lives here without making any solid points or conclusions but just thinking about all that we are grateful we are to be here. Sometimes all it takes is sitting on a balcony to see that.

Second Podcast

So Rebecca and I have finally gotten our second podcast up! We are still working out some bumps but this one is a little bit smoother and slightly less giggly. We talk about our recent trip to Ankara and Cappadocia, and  about our live here in Adana. We also include a little bit of Turkish! We appreciate comments or feedback, so please feel free to do so! 

Charlotte and Rebecca's Podcast

Türk Yemeği: Kahvalti

I have mentioned the food here in just about every blog I have written, so I though I would dedicate a few blogs solely to Türk Yemeği(Turkish food.) The food here is so wonderful that I can't seem to ever get enough, I swear my stomach has expanded. I am starting with my favorite meal and the first one of my day, breakfast.

My favorite part about the weekend is that I get to sleep in and enjoy a leisurely breakfast which is always wonderful! Every breakfast varies, depending on the season, region, and just what is in your house. Though there are a few things that are almost always included;

Ekmek(break)is the main staple without which would nullify any Turkish meal. Though I don't eat it at every meal, it is always present, school meals included. I love it at breakfast though, and eat it with everything. There is a wide range of breads but they are always fresh and never come in plastic. I love simit, which is a doughnut shaped bread crunchy on the outside and soft and doughy on the inside and all covered in sesame seeds. I love bread.

Zeytin(Olives) are almost always present, and usually there is a variety. Green olives, black olives, brown olives, etc. My favorite olives are these green little ones that are always soaking in olive oil and red pepper spices.

Peynir(cheese) is another main staple of breakfast, and there is also always at least a few different kinds. At grocery stores the delis always have a huge selection of cheeses so I am always surprised and delighted by new ones. Last Sunday we went to a fruits and veggies market and I picked my favorite cheese. It looks like a braid and is reminds me of string cheese though it is salty and delicious. Also on the table is feta and a couple other kinds.

Yoğurt(yogurt) is present in many Turkish meals and in a variety of different forms; Soup, drinks, pasta sauce and the list goes on and on. For breakfast we eat what is called süzme yoğurt and it is sort of a thick unsweetened yogurt. At my house we put it on top of bread and other things though I am not sure how common it is, some of my friends don't.

Salata(salad)is probably the healthiest thing on the table. My host mom usually includes (depending on what is in season) cucumbers, sweet peppers, tomatoes and is dressed in olive oil and spices. Delicious.

Yumurta(eggs) cooked omelets style and flipped to perfection. They are also usually cooked with olive oil, spices and possibly some sort of veggie or sausage.

Patates(potatos) are not often cooked at my house but I always look forward to them when they are. Same sort of thing, spices and olive oil and though I am not sure exactly how my host mother does it but they are SO good.

Reçel(jam) is often present. My host mom's family makes it with the fruit from the village the lived in, and it is really yummy. I love the cherry jam which is not something I ate a lot of in the states but I see a ton here.

Kaymak ve Bal(kaymak and honey) arguably my favorite thing ever, and for sure on the breakfast table. I remember the first morning I tried this and I couldn't stop eating it. My friend Sahalie and her host family was over, so together we declared that every piece was going to be our last. We may have finally gained enough control to stop eating but more likely is that we ran out of bread. Kaymak is (and this is what I understood in translation) the cream that you get off the top when milk is boiled. It is super thick with the most brilliant creamy taste, though alone alright when you add honey on top it is amazing. When my host mom asks if she should buy it I always hesitate, do I really want to be around that?

Nutella or the Turkish version Çokella is common as another sweet thing to spread on breads.

Fındık Ezmesi (hazelnut butter)is not something we eat in our house but I have had it at friend's houses and it is so good. Just as it's names describes it is like peanut butter but more crunchy and less refined. We get peanut butter as well here but it is not the same as in the states, my mom brought it to me from Rome and Dilşad agreed, she has made me promise to send it when I get home.

As I said there could be a wide array of other things but here is enough to wet your taste buds, and mine as well. Fortunately we have kaymak and bal at this very moment! I will continue writing about the food, as I move on to other meals.

Yarın, napacaksın?

"yarın, napacaksın?" This is the question my host mom asks me most nights meaning, what will you do tomorrow? and for weekdays it goes pretty much like this;

My Mondays are like for most people the first day of my week. Also, like for most people I don't generally look forward to this day, but neither do I dread it. I make my cup of coffee, eat my cornflakes, Dilşad waits for my to be ready (just as my sister did in the states,) and we walk to school together. I could sleep in about an extra half hour and save myself sitting awkwardly alone in my classroom waiting for the other students, but Dilşad likes to get there early and I appreciate the time together. Sometimes we don't talk, sometimes I probably talk way too much singing her the Turkish songs I have learned, and taking suggestions for new ones. The walk is only about 7 minutes so it's really not enough time to get on each others nerves.

I try to make use of my time in school by studying Turkish, reading children's books, writing, etc. I am participating more and more in my lessons but certainly not up to their level. My history teacher who I have mentioned in previous blogs still enjoys getting me up in front of the class to answer questions. I enjoy being pulled in to participate but the problem is I really can not understand this man. My classmates think my impression of him is funny, but it's true he speaks in a low rapid grumble, and I can't make out much of it. His classes do wake me up though!

I also joined a gym! Most Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays I try to go. I joined for a few reasons. One was admittedly to try to counteract some of the affects of the enormous amount of delicious Turkish food I have been eating. Another is simply for my health, I get very little exercise here since I don't play any sports. It's also nice to add a little variety to my life even if it just means going into a small sort of basement stuffed full of workout equipment.

Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays like always I have Turkish classes. Now that another three of our members have left classes are smaller and though more empty, also more serious. We have been upping the difficulty level, deciding to only speak in Turkish while there, taking tests and pushing each other unintentionally to improve. We now start our weeks by picking a song to sing, dissecting it, and learning it by heart. The first two weeks have been Turkish pop (I will try to find a way to get them online) and the third is a rehearsal dinner wedding song, used to make the bride cry, yeah, it confused me too. It feels good to get more out of our time there and I still really enjoy being with my friends though we do miss our girls.

The newest addition to my schedule has been teaching English. Every Wednesday and Friday at about noon I leave school early to go to the Gençlik Merkezi (youth center) so teach English with to about six women who must be in their late twenties to early thirties. I teach the class with Kenzie, who has been doing it a bit longer than me. I started with volunteering at a kindergarten, trying to teach 15 or so 5-year-olds English, and when I had the opportunity to teach older people, I jumped at the chance. So far, I like it a lot. Kenz joked that my enthusiasm was normal for the first few lessons, and I was enthusiastic. I feel like I have the opportunity to really help these women learn English, and I have been thinking a lot on how to explain things. Teaching English is not an easy task! It reminds me of the English as a Second Language classes I helped with on the island, and I have a whole new respect for both the teachers and the students there. What a confusing language English is!

So there is my extended answer to a pretty simple question. With that, if anyone has a specific question about life here or anything, I would be happy to answer it. I love comments and feedback!

Lost in the Mail

Warning: this is a very long post on what really only occupied a few hours of time.

Throughout this year, for reasons I will get to, the Post Office has been the setting for some of my most embarrassing and frustrating scenes. It has gotten so bad that many of the people there know me and probably, like I do, dread the visits.

 

First a little background on the postal system of Adana. There are a few scattered around the city but only one main office where any packages from outside the country are delivered. Apparently the first day your package arrives they bring it to you house but if nobody is home, as is often the case in my house, they leave nothing and bring it to the post office where you must be physic to know has arrived. If you don't show up in time they send the package back, which has now happened to me twice. 

 I am being a bit unfair to the post office though, the first couple package miscommunication started at a more local level. Somehow between Dilşad and we managed to get one letter in our address mixed up, which caused my moms package to take like three months to get here and my dads to simply be sent home, all this after hours of confusion. This was all frustrating, but it really only added fuel to the flame when I tried to pick up a very small package my sister had sent. 

 I have forgotten a lot of stuff a lot of places in my life, but leaving my camera charger with my sister in Rome while I returned to Turkey was a bummer. The cost to send it express so I could have it in time for my trip to Ankara and Antalya was also pretty bad, especially considering that it is a 2inch box of plastic. From experience with my other packages I knew that I needed to come with a barcode and patience. I first went to the package pick up room which is a small office adjoined to the big main post office. There I gave them my barcode, but was told my package wasn't in the system so I should go to the main post office. In the main post office I was directed to a row of high counters with a few people milling about chatting. When I gave them my barcode number, they told me there was some sort of problem, they weren't really sure, but did I know my address? That is were things started to get rough. I don't know my address because it is about six lines long and full of words I can't pronounce. At this point in very Turkish fashion, everyone wants to help, whether they are post office staff, just sending a letter, know English or whatever, before I know it  I have a group of people gathered around me all trying to explain something I was pretty sure I understood but was now only getting more more confused. Finally, when I was at the point of tears, I made it out believing if I returned with my address somehow it would all work out. 

Though I probably should have given myself a day or so to recharge, I went back that day to get with a friend who also had a package to pick up. She knew this because I saw her name in the three-ring-binder they keep with the print-offs from the incoming packages so you can sometimes see without asking if you have a package. When I looked in that binder again, I saw that I too had a package, one that turned out to be from Shelle, though when I showed the man there my id it ignited the fire. He remembered my dads package and the address problems, and apparently my dads package had been there (about 3 months) until the day before when they had finally returned it home, though my host mom says they are lying and it went back about a month before. He seemed a bit mad, and started yelling at me about all these problems that had occurred, obviously all my fault. He kept at it for a few minutes, and when I was bright red and near tears because everyone in the post office was staring at me he decided to get my new package and help me find the old one. He told me to go to Seyhan, though I had no idea where I was and so he told me to climb over the counter. I stared blankly thinking I had misheard. Climb over the counter? But no, because then he pantomimed climbing over this counter. My friend Sophie and I looked at each other, shrugged, and climbed over the counter. My face was about the color of the Turkish flag. We followed him through a hall and up a flight of stairs where we went into some filing room where after a quick check they confirmed my fear, the package had been sent back to the states. They say it was because there was no name, my sister says she put a name on it. Who knows? but I had no camera charger, fortunately I have great friends, one of  whom lent me her camera for a of couple weeks. Also having a new and wonderful package to open softened the blow.

This is not the end. About a month later, I made my way back to the post office. Already wary I avoided the package office and went straight to the big one. They send me immediately to Seyhan, which I now know is accessed from the other side of the building, and is also the drop off. After exchanging my ID for a beat-up looking card the security card points me to a door, when I entered, I was in the inner workings of the post office. All around me people were dropping off packages, filling mail, or loading their postal bags. I was confused. A nice man asked me what I wanted, when I told him I was looking for this package he didn't respond but asked me if I was from Turkey or Azerbaijan, which flattered and annoyed me, but mostly flattered. I was finally sent to a man named Erken who made some calls, and then wanted my number. Of that I was skeptical, I don't often give out my number and this didn't seem very protocol, but none of this does really. So I tried to give him my host moms so at least she could understand him when he called, I handed him my phone to see the number and he just called himself with it so he had my number. He told me to call him on Monday, which confused me even more, but I said I would. Saturday morning I woke up at 9:00 to post office Erken calling, and immediately passed the phone to my host mom. Apparently he had my package and now all I had to do was pick it up. Back at Seyhan on Saturday, Erken was nowhere to be found, and the gathering of, I swear, every member of the post office started. Finally I just gave up and called my host mom who talked to the men, and my package was found. 

 As I ripped open the tiny envelope and pulled out that plastic charger that I had gone through so much to get, I felt a sense of disappointment. I mean after all there is not that much exciting about a Panasonic DE-A59 charger. I was so frustrated by the postal system which seems to run without rhyme or reason, but comforted by the kindness of the people. I must have heard 15 times that my Turkish was good, and asked over and over what I was doing there. They were curious and anxious to help. It really helps in a place where I know so few people compared to my own little island, when people are as friendly as if they have known you for years.

Turkish

When I found out that out that I had gotten then NSLI-Y scholarship to live in Turkey I was asked primarily, why Turkey? but also a lot about the language. What language is spoken there? Is it written in the western or Latin alphabet? What does is sound like? Not many people outside of Turkey know how to say hello, or goodbye as they do in Spanish, Italian, or German. The reason of course being that it is mainly only spoken in Turkey, a country still working its way up to its full potential. So I thought I might explain a little about  the language, and my reasons for learning it.


Though Turkish is the official language of only Turkey and one of the official languages of Cyprus there are over 77 million people worldwide who speak it as a first language.There are concentrated speakers in Kosovo, Macedonia, Greece, Bulgaria, and Germany which is home to many Turkish immigrants. Also in countries such as Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan dialects of Turkish are spoken. Though Turks push for their youth to learn English they remain proud of their language and the evolution it has undergone to become what is is today. In 1932 Atatürk kind of redid the language, getting rid of a lot of Arabic loanwords and changing the alphabet to the Latin one, (great for me!) though there are still quite a few Arabic words used today.

As for why I decided to learn this somewhat unusual language I have a many reasons yet I am still not 100% sure. I loved Turkey the last time I was here and almost went as an exchange student my junior year, but chose Spain instead.. I probably would have jumped at the chance to learn any new language, and I wanted to take a gap year so when this opportunity presented itself it seemed pretty perfect. I believe that there is a lot to be gained from learning a new language and Turkey is a pretty extraordinary country to do so in. Through learning a country's language it is possible to connect  with the people and culture in a pretty unique way. There is so much about this place and people that I have become very fond of that it would be challenging to put into words. Also just speaking Turkish as a foreigner, especially as an American, Turk  are automatically impressed and excited.

When this year ends, my dad wants to know if I will be able to put the language I have labored over learning to any use, if I will be able to apply it to my job or future plans. I have no idea. I love the idea of having a job that I can use both Turkish and Spanish, but I don't know.  I'm not even sure I will be able to continue studying it. I do know though, one day I will live here again. Probably not in Adana, but Istanbul, Izmir or Antalya are all tempting choices. Though even if I don't manage to make it a big part of my life, I feel in no way that any of this year is being wasted.

So, as a final bit I am including a brief Turkish lesson, if you would like to know how these things are  pronounced (or at least our attempt at pronouncing them correctly,) check out my the podcast my friend Rebecca and I made, you can get to the link a couple posts down.


Merhaba- Hello
Hoşçakal and güle güle- goodbye
Görüşürüz- see you later
Teşekkür ederim- thank you
Sağol- another way to say thank you
Günaydın-good morning
İyi günler- good day
İyi akşamlar- good afternoon
İyi geceler- good night (İyi means good)

Göüşürüz!