& other new-office anecdotes.
As of last Thursday, I've been shown to Bahçeşehir's prep school, (where I will be working), which is just over a mile from my dormitory, met Çiğdem, my contact at the prep school through Zeynep and was introduced to Mehmet Bey, the director of the prep school. He spoke flawless English and came across as extremely straightforward, efficient, and involved- without a doubt a stark contrast to the director at TOBB. We chatted about my experience, expectations, and goals, as well as his, and I was shown to the Learning Center.
The Learning Center is basically just a large office, with two proper desks, three student-use desktop computers, and perhaps a dozen small tables pushed together to make one long one. The walls are bookshelves, each section filled with extra materials and marked for student or teacher use. Essentially, the purpose of the Learning Center is to provide a resource for students who want or need extra help learning English. Like TOBB, the university has a A and B level classification based on language comprehension, and the long makeshift table is mostly covered with stacks of extra-help worksheets neatly organized according to difficulty level, including their respective answer keys.
I've been given a murderously slow desktop PC and a "spot" - not a desk, exactly, more like a reserved chair- where I spend most of my time surfing the internet. I've tried to battle with the PC but it's generally a mean-spirited beast and the internet here is slow enough without having to resurrect Internet Explorer every six minutes.
On my first day, Mehmet Bey told me he would introduce my officemates and supervisors, Serap and Amal, to me, and had mentioned that they were Middle Eastern in origin and spoke fluent Arabic. He said I should greet them in Arabic- they would love it, and they'd be more than willing to help me relearn if I was interested. Unfortunately, having been roughly a year since I put any serious effort into spoken Arabic, calling myself "rusty" is definitely an overstatement- but I figured I'd attempt the basics. However, when we walked into the office, I didn't say anything to the fair-skinned, light haired fiftysomething women I was presented to. Mehmet Bey then prodded me, telling them I had studied Arabic, at which point I realized these were the people I was supposed to say something to. I blurted out an awkward "Marhaban, ahlan wa sahlan" - they were delighted. Mehmet Bey wished me well and left, Serap offered me tea, and Amal introduced me to one of the half-dozen student assistants who rotate through the office throughout the week. Over the next few hours, I learned that they were both from Baghdad, which Serap (who is 56) left in 1982, eventually getting a master's degree in London, having a family in Istanbul, and a daughter now in Montreal. Amal is 62, (they don't have the same hang-ups about age that Americans do), and she left Iraq in the late 1950s, around the same time the monarchy was brought to an end by military coup. Her arabic is less fluent than Serap's, because she has been away longer, but her Turkish is better for the same reason. Amal has two daughters, one who is getting her masters in Poetry and Performance Art, and the other who works in Animation- she claims, however, not to have an artistic bone in her body. Serap and Amal worked together previously for 10+ years at a different university, and when Serap retired, Bahçeşehir offered her a newly-created position at the prep school. A year into her work here, she needed a second person, and Amal joined her, and so they've worked in this office for 5 or 6 years since then. They have a hysterical rapport, constantly teasing each other and laughing. Because Turkish is just as much a second language to them as English is, it's not a strain for them to joke and tease in English for my benefit. They're both kind and good at finding little things for me to do so I don't die of boredom- Serap has hunted down two speaking classes for me to substitute teach, so I've actually gotten to meet students, even though my regular work won't start til mid-February. I've also met every Arab student in the prep school, since they frequent the office whenever they have difficulty with the lessons- which is often, since they see no need to learn Turkish. Serap and occasionally Amal explain the finer points of the English language to them in Arabic, and I get to listen and test how much I can pull from the dredges of my memory.
Speaking of students, they've been a blast. Bahçeşehir students have been irresistibly friendly, openly asking all kinds of questions- no pulling teeth here. I know part of it is because I am a novelty item at the moment; unlike TOBB, I am the first co-op student here and they can all immediately tell I'm young (despite my most desperate attempts to dress "grownup"). There are a half dozen Americans working here full time, of whom I've met two, and also several Brits- so while I'm not the only "native speaker," I am the youngest and the newest. But they've been polite and fun, interested in what I have to say and willing to answer questions. I got into a great conversation in one class when a student asked me what I thought about economic and technological developments in Turkey- true, several less advanced students promptly fell asleep, but a handful of us had an interesting discussion about the differences between rural and developed Turkey, how it becomes a problem, and what needs to be done about it.
So there's my glowing report so far. Yes, I fully recognize all the dreadfully "honeymoon-ish" attitudes I have now, and between my roommate (whose hair is again a deep pink) and imprisonment by snow, I'm sure the "negotiation" (aka the "keep-your-stupid-culture-i-don't-want-it-anyhow") phase of culture shock will hit me soon enough. But in the mean time, I am thoroughly enjoying myself.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Turkey, Take Two
Well, if there's one constant in my tumultuous relationship with the Republic of Turkey, it's that my adventures always start out with a bang. And usually involve doors. But not necessarily banging doors. Anyhow.
After church, family dinner, and a White Rabbit-esque mad dash to finish packing, the family and I (seven in total) loaded into the van and headed for Newark Airport. Two hours later, my flight took off; nine hours later, my flight from Frankfort to Istanbul was delayed; four hours later, I arrived in the Istanbul Ataturk Airport, met a very patient man named Cankut who had been waiting over an hour for me, and inconveniently spoke German, not English, and who then accompanied me to my car & driver (I get a driver now). We battled rain and heavy Istanbul traffic on the way to Bahcesehir University, where I met Zeynep, the Northeastern alum responsible for my presence here, and a few of her colleagues. They were very nice, especially since I'm sure it was obvious from my appearance (and smell) that I had been in transit for about 16 hours. I was then herded into another car to be taken to my apartment, with instructions that I would be picked up for dinner at 6:30.
After being directed to sign my name, date of birth, and various other details onto a paper (no idea what the significance was, might have sold my soul, whoops?), I was given a key and the desk clerk brought me up to my room.
In the dormitory.
I live in a suite with three double bedrooms, a shared kitchen and bathroom, and no living room. I was told there is a common area, which also offers a cheap daily dinner buffet, in the basement, which I have yet to see. My suite was being cleaned as I was given the very brief tour- apparently, a cleaning staff does dishes, laundry, and general cleaning at least once a week. My turkish is rusty so the details are a bit unclear. I was shown into my double room, where my roommate was woken from apparent hibernation. Whoa, that's pretty bad acne, was my initial thought. We were introduced, her name is Cansu (john-sue), she speaks near-perfect English because she spent two years studying in San Francisco. She played with her face as we talked- at which point I realized she had perfectly clear skin, and eight facial piercings. EIGHT.
She went back to bed shortly, and I puttered around on the computer until 6:30, when I dressed and went outside to wait for the car that was to take me to dinner with Zeynep. Enter culture shock. Perhaps not shock, but certainly surprise... I had forgotten, for example, Turkish Time. Meaning that I expected the car at 6:30. And by 7:15, after 45 minutes pacing on a dark dead-end street in the rain, I gave up and came inside.
I took the elevator to my floor, the 5th, and went to the 18th room, and was faced with one door, one key, and two locks. I have a rather unpleasant history with turkish doors to begin with (locked out for an hour on my first night in Ankara- and it took me a month to be able to open it by myself). After trying one lock, then the other, then the first again, I heard voices inside and so started banging on the door, hoping one of my suitemates would open it. Two girls came to the door and spoke through it, most likely asking who was there. Exhausted and completely out of patience (after 45 min in the rain), I just said "I live here" loudly and clearly. "... I love you?" one girl repeated, very confused. "No, I LIVE here." The door opened, and two girls looked at me very confused. I smiled and walked in, heading towards my room, which is when they followed me and blocked the hallway, yelling in rapid Turkish. What I forgot to mention was that no one had told them they had a new roommate. So I might have been any lost American in Sisli (my neighborhood), just wandering into the room on the far corner of the 5th floor in a student dormitory. I sighed and pointed into my bedroom (roommate still in hibernation, no help at all), to the pile of luggage on my bed. "Mine." I said. "I live here." They finally understood and laughed, and apologized for their broken English. So somehow, in my first 12 hours in the country, I managed to break into my own apartment and terrorize my suitemates.
My room phone was called by the front desk ten minutes later, and brokenly told that the car was running late and would arrive in 15 minutes. Severely frustrated, I got dressed AGAIN and went downstairs to wait. The car arrived when I was told it would, and the traffic was horrible- we traveled 3 km to the school in 45 min. Dinner had already been served and eaten upon my arrival. Zeynep introduced me to a colleague of hers, a French businessman, and Professor Erol Sezer, the vice president of the university. All were very friendly, and we were soon laughing and joking about everything under the sun. I'm not sure how, but someone made a joke about me being married off during my time here, at which point the french businessman (whose name i cannot recall to save my life) was volunteered. It became an ongoing joke, one shared with my parents due to a long distance call offered by Zeynep's coworker (yes, also cannot remember his name). We were offered the university terrace restaurant, where we were sitting, for the reception- it has an incredible view of the Bosphorus, one of the best in Istanbul I've been told. The conversation stayed light, and I got to hear all about Prof Sezer's son and daughter and their time in the US- his daughter is currently in Istanbul and I may get to meet her, while son is still living in Seattle. At one point I was mistaken for an Italian, probably because of my absurd hand gestures, and when I corrected them (Irish, of course), Professor Sezer told me about his son's irish ex-girlfriend and how wonderful she was. Apparently, he's a fan.
After dinner I was given a brief, partial tour of the university, and saw the engineering department, classrooms, offices, and two of the seven cafeterias- just a *wee* bit bigger than TOBB, with its three buildings in total. I arranged with Zeynep to meet her at her office sometime the next day, and we parted ways. Traffic was just as miserable getting home, and I was completely ready to pass out- but determined to defeat jet lag, I forced myself to stay up until midnight local time.
Five hours later, the turkish cell phone Alex gave me (I gave mine away to a friend who was in Turkey last semester), started beeping loudly and obnoxiously. Luckily, it didn't wake my roommate, who had woken up around 10:30 pm and was, at 5:00 am, still sitting at her computer playing World of Warcraft.
Since 5:00 am is 10:00 pm in New Jersey, it made perfect sense for my body to wake up then... and refuse to sleep for about five hours. So at 10:00 AM, I fell asleep again for another four hours, completely missing the time when I planned to go to the University and see Zeynep. By the time I was showered, dressed, and out the door, it was nearly 4:00 pm. And I got to experience Istanbul's first snow of the winter. Wonderful. I wandered up and down steep hills for 20 minutes before finding a cab, and then sat in traffic (of course) for another half hour. By the time I got to Zeynep's office, we had barely enough time to see the international office (full of friendly, English-speaking persons who know about things like residency permits, sim cards, and AKbill [public transit card]). I will meet with them again at 10:00 am tomorrow, and hopefully get started on all the technicalities of working at Bahçeşehir.
By the time I was heading home, there was a full-on snow storm waiting for me. I may have a distinct accent when speaking Turkish, but my taxi driver still managed to convince himself I understood what he was talking about. An hour of traffic later, I realized that he had NO idea where we were going (I had handed him the address on a piece of paper), and being my second day in Istanbul, neither did I. Somewhere near 19 Mayis Mahallesi, my neighborhood, he started asking questions- which of course I could not answer. He carefully explained to me (in Turkish) that he had no idea where my street was, and I should get out and talk to a local cab driver. I should get out of the taxi. I should get of the taxi RIGHT NOW.
So, I paid 22 lira ($15) to be driven to the general area where I lived, and then kicked out of the cab in front of a mall. So being a coffee addict in a country severely lacking good old American-style joe... I went into the mall and hunted down a Kahve Dunyasi, which was my absolute favorite coffeeshop/chocolatier (two in one!) in Ankara. I grabbed a few necessities from the Migros (similar to a Target), and headed out into the snowstorm. I wandered again for a while, hoping to see something familiar, then gave up and hailed a taxi. Before getting in, I asked if he knew of my street, and he said he did- and then ten minutes later asked me where it was. So in Turkish style, we stopped every fifteen feet to ask passersby if they knew of the street. We did this for twenty minutes without a single positive response, before I finally gave him Zeynep's number to see if she could give him directions. She couldn't offhand, so we drove aimlessly for a bit longer before she called back and directed him. Finally back at the dormitory, I thanked the cabbie profusely and headed in- only to be called by Zeynep, who was called by the cabbie, who told her I had left my phone in the cab. Of course.
As usual, life in Turkey is an adventure. As I head into day three in Istanbul, I can only hope things will improve... at least directionally.
Finally, I leave you with an episode of "Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations," a show in which some guy travels and eats and talks about it (no, I don't actually watch it)... this is the episode on istanbul- very funny and lots of good points about the culture and food.
http://www.ninjavideo.net/video/55522
(Note: you have to click the red link near the top which says "click here to launch the NinjaVideo Helper," wait for the little pop up to load, then click "yes" or "trust" when the security box comes up. Then click "close to play" on the ad over the video, and it should start loading immediately. It's less complicated than it sounds, I promise.)
After church, family dinner, and a White Rabbit-esque mad dash to finish packing, the family and I (seven in total) loaded into the van and headed for Newark Airport. Two hours later, my flight took off; nine hours later, my flight from Frankfort to Istanbul was delayed; four hours later, I arrived in the Istanbul Ataturk Airport, met a very patient man named Cankut who had been waiting over an hour for me, and inconveniently spoke German, not English, and who then accompanied me to my car & driver (I get a driver now). We battled rain and heavy Istanbul traffic on the way to Bahcesehir University, where I met Zeynep, the Northeastern alum responsible for my presence here, and a few of her colleagues. They were very nice, especially since I'm sure it was obvious from my appearance (and smell) that I had been in transit for about 16 hours. I was then herded into another car to be taken to my apartment, with instructions that I would be picked up for dinner at 6:30.
After being directed to sign my name, date of birth, and various other details onto a paper (no idea what the significance was, might have sold my soul, whoops?), I was given a key and the desk clerk brought me up to my room.
In the dormitory.
I live in a suite with three double bedrooms, a shared kitchen and bathroom, and no living room. I was told there is a common area, which also offers a cheap daily dinner buffet, in the basement, which I have yet to see. My suite was being cleaned as I was given the very brief tour- apparently, a cleaning staff does dishes, laundry, and general cleaning at least once a week. My turkish is rusty so the details are a bit unclear. I was shown into my double room, where my roommate was woken from apparent hibernation. Whoa, that's pretty bad acne, was my initial thought. We were introduced, her name is Cansu (john-sue), she speaks near-perfect English because she spent two years studying in San Francisco. She played with her face as we talked- at which point I realized she had perfectly clear skin, and eight facial piercings. EIGHT.
She went back to bed shortly, and I puttered around on the computer until 6:30, when I dressed and went outside to wait for the car that was to take me to dinner with Zeynep. Enter culture shock. Perhaps not shock, but certainly surprise... I had forgotten, for example, Turkish Time. Meaning that I expected the car at 6:30. And by 7:15, after 45 minutes pacing on a dark dead-end street in the rain, I gave up and came inside.
I took the elevator to my floor, the 5th, and went to the 18th room, and was faced with one door, one key, and two locks. I have a rather unpleasant history with turkish doors to begin with (locked out for an hour on my first night in Ankara- and it took me a month to be able to open it by myself). After trying one lock, then the other, then the first again, I heard voices inside and so started banging on the door, hoping one of my suitemates would open it. Two girls came to the door and spoke through it, most likely asking who was there. Exhausted and completely out of patience (after 45 min in the rain), I just said "I live here" loudly and clearly. "... I love you?" one girl repeated, very confused. "No, I LIVE here." The door opened, and two girls looked at me very confused. I smiled and walked in, heading towards my room, which is when they followed me and blocked the hallway, yelling in rapid Turkish. What I forgot to mention was that no one had told them they had a new roommate. So I might have been any lost American in Sisli (my neighborhood), just wandering into the room on the far corner of the 5th floor in a student dormitory. I sighed and pointed into my bedroom (roommate still in hibernation, no help at all), to the pile of luggage on my bed. "Mine." I said. "I live here." They finally understood and laughed, and apologized for their broken English. So somehow, in my first 12 hours in the country, I managed to break into my own apartment and terrorize my suitemates.
My room phone was called by the front desk ten minutes later, and brokenly told that the car was running late and would arrive in 15 minutes. Severely frustrated, I got dressed AGAIN and went downstairs to wait. The car arrived when I was told it would, and the traffic was horrible- we traveled 3 km to the school in 45 min. Dinner had already been served and eaten upon my arrival. Zeynep introduced me to a colleague of hers, a French businessman, and Professor Erol Sezer, the vice president of the university. All were very friendly, and we were soon laughing and joking about everything under the sun. I'm not sure how, but someone made a joke about me being married off during my time here, at which point the french businessman (whose name i cannot recall to save my life) was volunteered. It became an ongoing joke, one shared with my parents due to a long distance call offered by Zeynep's coworker (yes, also cannot remember his name). We were offered the university terrace restaurant, where we were sitting, for the reception- it has an incredible view of the Bosphorus, one of the best in Istanbul I've been told. The conversation stayed light, and I got to hear all about Prof Sezer's son and daughter and their time in the US- his daughter is currently in Istanbul and I may get to meet her, while son is still living in Seattle. At one point I was mistaken for an Italian, probably because of my absurd hand gestures, and when I corrected them (Irish, of course), Professor Sezer told me about his son's irish ex-girlfriend and how wonderful she was. Apparently, he's a fan.
After dinner I was given a brief, partial tour of the university, and saw the engineering department, classrooms, offices, and two of the seven cafeterias- just a *wee* bit bigger than TOBB, with its three buildings in total. I arranged with Zeynep to meet her at her office sometime the next day, and we parted ways. Traffic was just as miserable getting home, and I was completely ready to pass out- but determined to defeat jet lag, I forced myself to stay up until midnight local time.
Five hours later, the turkish cell phone Alex gave me (I gave mine away to a friend who was in Turkey last semester), started beeping loudly and obnoxiously. Luckily, it didn't wake my roommate, who had woken up around 10:30 pm and was, at 5:00 am, still sitting at her computer playing World of Warcraft.
Since 5:00 am is 10:00 pm in New Jersey, it made perfect sense for my body to wake up then... and refuse to sleep for about five hours. So at 10:00 AM, I fell asleep again for another four hours, completely missing the time when I planned to go to the University and see Zeynep. By the time I was showered, dressed, and out the door, it was nearly 4:00 pm. And I got to experience Istanbul's first snow of the winter. Wonderful. I wandered up and down steep hills for 20 minutes before finding a cab, and then sat in traffic (of course) for another half hour. By the time I got to Zeynep's office, we had barely enough time to see the international office (full of friendly, English-speaking persons who know about things like residency permits, sim cards, and AKbill [public transit card]). I will meet with them again at 10:00 am tomorrow, and hopefully get started on all the technicalities of working at Bahçeşehir.
By the time I was heading home, there was a full-on snow storm waiting for me. I may have a distinct accent when speaking Turkish, but my taxi driver still managed to convince himself I understood what he was talking about. An hour of traffic later, I realized that he had NO idea where we were going (I had handed him the address on a piece of paper), and being my second day in Istanbul, neither did I. Somewhere near 19 Mayis Mahallesi, my neighborhood, he started asking questions- which of course I could not answer. He carefully explained to me (in Turkish) that he had no idea where my street was, and I should get out and talk to a local cab driver. I should get out of the taxi. I should get of the taxi RIGHT NOW.
So, I paid 22 lira ($15) to be driven to the general area where I lived, and then kicked out of the cab in front of a mall. So being a coffee addict in a country severely lacking good old American-style joe... I went into the mall and hunted down a Kahve Dunyasi, which was my absolute favorite coffeeshop/chocolatier (two in one!) in Ankara. I grabbed a few necessities from the Migros (similar to a Target), and headed out into the snowstorm. I wandered again for a while, hoping to see something familiar, then gave up and hailed a taxi. Before getting in, I asked if he knew of my street, and he said he did- and then ten minutes later asked me where it was. So in Turkish style, we stopped every fifteen feet to ask passersby if they knew of the street. We did this for twenty minutes without a single positive response, before I finally gave him Zeynep's number to see if she could give him directions. She couldn't offhand, so we drove aimlessly for a bit longer before she called back and directed him. Finally back at the dormitory, I thanked the cabbie profusely and headed in- only to be called by Zeynep, who was called by the cabbie, who told her I had left my phone in the cab. Of course.
As usual, life in Turkey is an adventure. As I head into day three in Istanbul, I can only hope things will improve... at least directionally.
Finally, I leave you with an episode of "Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations," a show in which some guy travels and eats and talks about it (no, I don't actually watch it)... this is the episode on istanbul- very funny and lots of good points about the culture and food.
http://www.ninjavideo.net/video/55522
(Note: you have to click the red link near the top which says "click here to launch the NinjaVideo Helper," wait for the little pop up to load, then click "yes" or "trust" when the security box comes up. Then click "close to play" on the ad over the video, and it should start loading immediately. It's less complicated than it sounds, I promise.)
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