French-German Friendship Society

Yes, it actually exists. And they get together and hire Turkish musicians and throw little concerts in the German elementary school gym. In Turkey.

I would know, because I was invited to one last night- despite the fact that I am neither French nor German nor friends with anyone who is.

So amidst the rock wall and tied back climbing ropes (no, I'm not making this up), a crowd of a few hundred French and German ambassadors, their Turkish friends, two lost Americans and one very confused Russian listened to German, Turkish, and French classical music duets played by a Turkish pianist and violinist. And afterwards everyone congregated in the back of the gym- under the ceiling-mounted basketball hoop- drank wine, munched delicately on curry chicken kebabs (I have no idea whose culture that was supposed to represent- India maybe?), admired each others' finery, and generally felt prestigious. It was entertaining. Well, at least until I almost assassinated a minor German diplomat via my untied shoelace. Yes, I wore gym shoes to this event. No, no one warned me in advance that it was a suit-and-tie sort of affair. At least I wasn't in jeans (which I sincerely considered).


Anna came to our school yesterday as well, hung out with me in the office for a bit and then went to class with Alex. They left early and went to our favorite cafe/chocolatier Kahve Dünyası at the Armada Mall. I stayed later and talked for an hour with a student who wanted extra practice. A socially awkward but very nice kid, failed the TOEFL once already but reallly wants to learn English. We discussed family, music, school, his plans for the future- basically every topic I could think of.

Three classes today, only one of which was memorable. I walked with the instructor to my first class, and was caught by Zeren- one of my beloved, leather-coated flunkies- on my way in, and she knew the instructor I was walking with as well. So she hops into the classroom (not her classroom) with us, plops herself into the teacher's chair, and starts asking me about my day and chattering away in semi-coherent english. The teacher has a sense of humor about the situation but still attempts to kick her out of the room. Half a dozen entreaties later, Zeren, still all energy, yells "Going! I going! Going nowww!" at the teacher. She stands and walks past me to the door.

It is at this moment, while we are standing in front of the entire class, that this punked out, over-made-up twenty one year old girl spins around, grabs my face with both hands, yanks it to her face, kisses me sloppily on each cheek, and then marches out of the room with a triumphant grin.

In case you were wondering, they don't entirely understand the concept of the "personal space bubble" here in Turkey.


As a final note, I got my macbook charger in the mail (thank you Mom & Dad) a few days ago. And of course, in traditional TOBB style, they conveniently provided me with a crappy, secondhand Dell computer. About five days after it would have been useful. So I now have two computers and a renewed sense of befuddlement at why, exactly, anyone would ever have paid money for that thirty pound piece of crap. Which, to make the situation even MORE fun, is formatted with a Turkish keyboard and operating system. Or whatever the correct label is for a "all the instructions including the help menu are in Turkish" system. I'm considering submitting it into the Guiness Book of World Records as the world's most expensive and unwieldy paperweight.


As a final final (no I really mean it this time) note, today I broke a tooth. Apparently the cafeteria's kaşarlı köfte sandviç was out for blood. Or at least enamel.