This morning we met at Taksim Square and traveled to Bogazici University to speak with a professor of Ottoman economics (and current economics). He gave us an overview of the Turkish economy, especially how its changed since the end of the Ottoman Empire. Then we asked him some questions, especially about the court case against the current government. He assured us that the only thing that would happen if the government were banished would be their reorganization under a different name. We also asked him about Turkey's current bid into the EU, and he offered some interesting insight into that.
After that, we ate a delicious lunch at the faculty cafe and then went to try to find contact information for the 5 Bogazici students who will be coming to Carolina next year. We got their phone numbers, and hopefully will be meeting up with them to talk about how awesome Carolina is, even provide them with a Powerpoint presentation!
We went back to the flat for another Turkish lesson on our terrace - we can make sentences now!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Wednesday, June 4
We went to Dolmabahce Palace and the Military Museum today. Dolmabahce is the sultan's palace built in 1853 by Sultan Abdulmecid at the cost of 35 tons of gold. Although not the sole reason for its demise, this frivolous use of the Ottoman Empire's revenue certainly contributed to its ultimate downfall. It has been called "the Versailles of Turkey," and I would most certainly agree with that statement but qualify a little bit - to me, it was not as beautiful, and that may have to do with the excessiveness of it, especially that it seemed more cramped than Versailles. It was designed in the Rococo style - which means LOADS of gold leaf, cherubs, horrifying amounts of decoration, nothing left untouched by curlicues and other decorative touches. Basically, GAUDY. But it was fun to photograph, as David, understanding my withdrawal from my own camera, so kindly allowed me to use his camera.
After that, the group took taksis (our first taksi experience in Istanbul!) to the Military Museum for Kevin and David's site project presentation. We watched the janissary band perform, which was very cool, as they were dressed in the uniforms of the time (complete with fake mustaches - janissaries were not allowed to have beards in order to distinguish them from other guards/members of the military). Then we headed into the Museum, where we saw an incredible collection of weapons, saw a mock-up of the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans (a full room was dedicated to this), and observed interesting descriptions of Turkish military actions, aka propaganda. The Armenian conflict is a huge issue for Turks, and the room dedicated to this was the most fascinating to me. Although it was formally recognized by the UN as a genocide in 1977, the Republic of Turkey does not recognize the use of that word. It is apparent in their exhibit on the conflict, which focuses on the "massacre" of Turks by the Armenians. The plaque describing this, along with horrible translation, was full of phrases that were clearly nationalist and biased. Far different from the US.
After that, the group took taksis (our first taksi experience in Istanbul!) to the Military Museum for Kevin and David's site project presentation. We watched the janissary band perform, which was very cool, as they were dressed in the uniforms of the time (complete with fake mustaches - janissaries were not allowed to have beards in order to distinguish them from other guards/members of the military). Then we headed into the Museum, where we saw an incredible collection of weapons, saw a mock-up of the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans (a full room was dedicated to this), and observed interesting descriptions of Turkish military actions, aka propaganda. The Armenian conflict is a huge issue for Turks, and the room dedicated to this was the most fascinating to me. Although it was formally recognized by the UN as a genocide in 1977, the Republic of Turkey does not recognize the use of that word. It is apparent in their exhibit on the conflict, which focuses on the "massacre" of Turks by the Armenians. The plaque describing this, along with horrible translation, was full of phrases that were clearly nationalist and biased. Far different from the US.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Tuesday, June 3
"Sufi Day" was today. Not sure if the prof planned it this way, but this morning we traveled to go see a Sufi mystic who had started an NGO and then made it to an actual Sufi dhikr.
Sufism is the most mystical branch of Islam, and is based on the "inner-meaning" of the Qu'ran. It is what some may consider the "hippie" branch,foucsing on the philosophical nature of love in the Qu'ran and the individual "spark" of every person. I think it is a very beautiful religion, especially after speaking with the Sufi woman today. She said "Masala" about every other word, which means something along the lines of "Thank God!" and also has a connotation to mean kind of like "Thank God you have that - I'm not jealous!" We asked her several questions about Islam and other issues in Turkey, and all her answers were very philosophical, poetic responses. Although sometimes I think we were hoping for more concrete answers, it was very cool to speak with an actual Sufi mystic, and especially one who has started her own NGO.
After that, we headed to Sirekeci Station for Emily's and my presentation. After giving the history of the building and poking around the museum, we treated our classmates and professors to tea and chatted about the Orient Express.
Then it was time to go to our ultra-secret Sufi dhikr. Prof. Shields and William had happened upon this religious ceremony performed by Sufis under the pretense that it would just be a "jam session" for these musicians. For Sufis, the dhikr consists of singing, instrumental music, and recitation of God's name. Since the secularization of Turkey by Ataturk, the Mevlevi Sufis (the whirling dervish sect of Sufism) was outlawed. Now the sema, or the Mevlevi dhikr which includes the whirling dervidsh dance, can only be performed as a folkloric event, e.g., you have to buy tickets to see a show. Prof. Shields told us that she thought this was almost derogatory to the religion, to make a very sacred religious ritual into just a show for tourists to watch. I completely agree with her, especially after observing the dhikr.
So we made it to the address on the business card that the prof. had given us, and to our surprise, we found William, who then, in his usual way, led us to Prof. Shields and the Sufi dhikr. Like I said, they hold their dhikr under the pretenses of it being just a musical session, which is easy for them to do because they hold it in a music store that restores and makes traditional Turkish instruments. They played many songs, distributing the words and music to everyone so we could follow along. I even got to beat on a tambourine-like thing! After a while, the dervish came out in his traditional garb and began to whirl. I was sitting on the floor, and I was so close to him that his skirt kept hitting my legs. He was amazing - I have no idea how he was able to turn for so long staying in one spot. Clearly, everyone there was moved by this dervish and I could tell that the Sufis were really able to complete their devotional practice through him. After that was over, it was one of the musician's birthday, so we stayed for dinner, dessert, and dancing. Once, again, we were overwhelmed by Turkish hospitality.
Sufism is the most mystical branch of Islam, and is based on the "inner-meaning" of the Qu'ran. It is what some may consider the "hippie" branch,foucsing on the philosophical nature of love in the Qu'ran and the individual "spark" of every person. I think it is a very beautiful religion, especially after speaking with the Sufi woman today. She said "Masala" about every other word, which means something along the lines of "Thank God!" and also has a connotation to mean kind of like "Thank God you have that - I'm not jealous!" We asked her several questions about Islam and other issues in Turkey, and all her answers were very philosophical, poetic responses. Although sometimes I think we were hoping for more concrete answers, it was very cool to speak with an actual Sufi mystic, and especially one who has started her own NGO.
After that, we headed to Sirekeci Station for Emily's and my presentation. After giving the history of the building and poking around the museum, we treated our classmates and professors to tea and chatted about the Orient Express.
Then it was time to go to our ultra-secret Sufi dhikr. Prof. Shields and William had happened upon this religious ceremony performed by Sufis under the pretense that it would just be a "jam session" for these musicians. For Sufis, the dhikr consists of singing, instrumental music, and recitation of God's name. Since the secularization of Turkey by Ataturk, the Mevlevi Sufis (the whirling dervish sect of Sufism) was outlawed. Now the sema, or the Mevlevi dhikr which includes the whirling dervidsh dance, can only be performed as a folkloric event, e.g., you have to buy tickets to see a show. Prof. Shields told us that she thought this was almost derogatory to the religion, to make a very sacred religious ritual into just a show for tourists to watch. I completely agree with her, especially after observing the dhikr.
So we made it to the address on the business card that the prof. had given us, and to our surprise, we found William, who then, in his usual way, led us to Prof. Shields and the Sufi dhikr. Like I said, they hold their dhikr under the pretenses of it being just a musical session, which is easy for them to do because they hold it in a music store that restores and makes traditional Turkish instruments. They played many songs, distributing the words and music to everyone so we could follow along. I even got to beat on a tambourine-like thing! After a while, the dervish came out in his traditional garb and began to whirl. I was sitting on the floor, and I was so close to him that his skirt kept hitting my legs. He was amazing - I have no idea how he was able to turn for so long staying in one spot. Clearly, everyone there was moved by this dervish and I could tell that the Sufis were really able to complete their devotional practice through him. After that was over, it was one of the musician's birthday, so we stayed for dinner, dessert, and dancing. Once, again, we were overwhelmed by Turkish hospitality.
Monday, June 2
Today we walked the Theodosian walls, which encircle the city of Istanbul. Well, they encircle the part of the city that was established during the time of Theodosius II, who built the walls from 408-413 AD. The history that had been played out along these walls (the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans in 1453) was enough to make them exciting, but their true uniqueness came from their untouristy nature. First of all, at the fort where we started our journey, there were no railings, signs, anything that made it seem like a monument. And we were the only people there. So we started exploring. We went up long, winding staircases that were pitch black, because obviously there were no lights, we went into a dungeon and saw the hole where they pitched the decapitated bodies that went out to the sea, and we climbed up a tower to get one of the best views in Istanbul.
Oh, and my camera broke, which is why the past few posts have had no pictures. Hopefully, that problem will be rectified soon.
One of the coolest things about the walls is that they went through some interesting neighborhoods; mainly low-income areas and even some Gypsy neighborhoods. We stopped and spoke to several children, who as always, were eager to test their English on us. We climbed several other towers to get even more awesome views; one which was like climbing up Mayan ruins because the steps were so steep you had to climb them like a ladder. Amanda and I were a little scared on the way down, and thank God for Clayton's singing skills (as Bon Qui Qui) or we may not have made it down.
After walking the walls, we were all very tired and made it back to our flat just in time for us to get some fruit and tea to host Hande, who came to our flat and gave us a Turkish lesson on the terrace.
Oh, and my camera broke, which is why the past few posts have had no pictures. Hopefully, that problem will be rectified soon.
One of the coolest things about the walls is that they went through some interesting neighborhoods; mainly low-income areas and even some Gypsy neighborhoods. We stopped and spoke to several children, who as always, were eager to test their English on us. We climbed several other towers to get even more awesome views; one which was like climbing up Mayan ruins because the steps were so steep you had to climb them like a ladder. Amanda and I were a little scared on the way down, and thank God for Clayton's singing skills (as Bon Qui Qui) or we may not have made it down.
After walking the walls, we were all very tired and made it back to our flat just in time for us to get some fruit and tea to host Hande, who came to our flat and gave us a Turkish lesson on the terrace.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Saturday/Sunday
Saturday
We woke up early today, ready to go explore Bursa, which I think took the tired Turks by surprise. None of us had gotten much sleep because we had gone to bed pretty late and, after all, there were 10 people sleeping in a 12 x 12 rhombus room. So we first headed to Yesil Cami (Green Mosque) in Bursa, which gets its name from the gorgeous green tiles that line its walls. After that, we went to Ulu Cami (Great Mosque). This mosque was so different from any other mosques we have seen before - it was almost cathedral-like. Instead of the ornateness of the tiles, the inside of the mosque was painted a beige-ish color. Bold, black calligraphy was splashed throughout the many columns, and several walls were painted to look like the view from a window. Different from the gorgeous colors of the tiles and gold inlay that we are used to seeing in mosques. It also seemed to be more partitioned than others, and there were tons of kids running around in it, yelling and screaming, which was definitely not an aspect of any of the other mosques we have been to.
After that, it was on to the tomb of Osman, the father of the Ottomans, where some kids were running in and out of his tomb tent-like thing. For the final resting place of the father of the whole Ottoman race, I was surprised not to see a little more pomp and circumstance. But then again, Turkey has been trying to shed its Ottoman image since the days of Ataturk.
After that, we walked through some bazaars with some gorgeous silks (Bursa is known for their silks, and apparently like 1000 other things like knives, eskender, and hamams). And then after about 3 cheese toasts, we headed to our first hamam trip! We got in the taksis, and headed out to the edge of town. The taksis dropped us off at this dirt road that curved down into a valley - it was beautiful. We walked down the hill and spotted this huge building with gorgeous domes - I asked Selmon if that was the hamam and he said it was! I was overjoyed and we excitedly went up to the entrance. The boys went in, and Selmon said that we had to go to the ladies' section. Amanda, the hamam expert because that's what her site project is on, told us that there was probably a women's entrance. Oh how wrong we were.
We were led to the back of this gorgeous building, built for Suleyman the Magnificent, to what looked like a penitentiary: the womens' hamam. It was a weird hybrid of sorts, because on the inside it looked like a mental institution. Lovely. Needless to say, it was definitely the real thing: we were the only non-Turks there, and got some very weird looks when we walked in. We think some people actually used the hamam as their real bath, because we didn't see a shower at Eyup's house, and the hamam was only 7 lira. Anyways, we played around a bit in the hot water, and when we ventured back outside, our Turkish friends told us that they had a surprise for us.
We were driven to a beautiful apartment, where Taner's adorable greeted us with excited smiles and "Merhaba!" 's. They led us up to their terrace, which had absolutely gorgeous views of the mountains and the city of Bursa. Then the feast began! We started with fresh cherries, apricots, bananas, erik (sour green plums), and Ayran - Turkey's national drink which is salty and yogurt-based. After that, we moved on to tomato corba (soup), cicek (yogurt and cucumber soup), eggplant pilaf, lahmacun (Turkish pizza), potato salad (which is literal - its salad with potatoes in it), and Turkish coffee to top it all off. It was delicious, and every time Taner's mom would bring us a new dish, she would say, "Afiyet olsun!", which is the Turkish equivalent of "Bon Appetit!"
After dinner, Selmon said we were going to Orhan's house, so we all geared up for another trek across Bursa, only to be informed that Orhan lived on the first floor of the apartment building. Taner and Orhan are cousins, and in the Turkish tradition, their whole extended family lives in one apartment building, with one individual family unit per floor. Again, we hung out and listened to music - earlier that day I had given my iPod to Taner and Eyup to listen to, and they loved the music on it. They kept scrolling through and saying things like, "CCR! Doobie Brothers!" with their thumbs up and huge smiles on their faces. Orhan's mom came in and brought us sunflower seeds and Coke on a tray - everyone here is so hospitable and as Selmon explained several times, "the guest is very important." Then Orhan and Taner's aunt came in and gave the three girls gifts of nail polish! They are the happiest, closest, and sweetest family.
At one point in the night, Selmon changed and came back in a muscle tee and shorts and said, "Now, I am very sexy. Everyone calm down." The language barrier always adds to the hilarity of Turkey. But it can also be a very poetic thing - Selmon also told me that I had "hair the color of evening sunshine."
Sunday
We had a great sleep, and woke up in the morning to an AWESOME traditional Turkish breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, bread with rose and cherry jelly, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, sausage, and cay and Turkish coffee. After a lovely send-off from the families, including Taner's mom communicating that now she was our Turkish aunt, we headed back to the bus station and back to Istanbul, already looking forward to hosting Taner, Eyup, Selmon, and Orhan in Istanbul.
One more funny story from the bus ride to Istanbul - we got on a small shuttle bus to take us back to Taksim Square, and as we were waiting to leave, the bus driver came up to us and launched into a long string of Turkish. We thought he may want our luggage to put underneath the bus, but he pushed it away and continued his Turkish rant. He must have finally recognized the incredibly blank looks on our faces, because he stopped and said the first phrase that we understood, "Turkce yok?" which means, "No Turkish?" "Evet (yes)," we replied, "Turkce yok." He looked at us incredulously and asked "Turkce yok?" again. Again we replied. Then he went to his driver's seat, looked back and with a shrug of his shoulders at us said, "Turkce yok!"
Turkce yok is now our favorite phrase.
We woke up early today, ready to go explore Bursa, which I think took the tired Turks by surprise. None of us had gotten much sleep because we had gone to bed pretty late and, after all, there were 10 people sleeping in a 12 x 12 rhombus room. So we first headed to Yesil Cami (Green Mosque) in Bursa, which gets its name from the gorgeous green tiles that line its walls. After that, we went to Ulu Cami (Great Mosque). This mosque was so different from any other mosques we have seen before - it was almost cathedral-like. Instead of the ornateness of the tiles, the inside of the mosque was painted a beige-ish color. Bold, black calligraphy was splashed throughout the many columns, and several walls were painted to look like the view from a window. Different from the gorgeous colors of the tiles and gold inlay that we are used to seeing in mosques. It also seemed to be more partitioned than others, and there were tons of kids running around in it, yelling and screaming, which was definitely not an aspect of any of the other mosques we have been to.
After that, it was on to the tomb of Osman, the father of the Ottomans, where some kids were running in and out of his tomb tent-like thing. For the final resting place of the father of the whole Ottoman race, I was surprised not to see a little more pomp and circumstance. But then again, Turkey has been trying to shed its Ottoman image since the days of Ataturk.
After that, we walked through some bazaars with some gorgeous silks (Bursa is known for their silks, and apparently like 1000 other things like knives, eskender, and hamams). And then after about 3 cheese toasts, we headed to our first hamam trip! We got in the taksis, and headed out to the edge of town. The taksis dropped us off at this dirt road that curved down into a valley - it was beautiful. We walked down the hill and spotted this huge building with gorgeous domes - I asked Selmon if that was the hamam and he said it was! I was overjoyed and we excitedly went up to the entrance. The boys went in, and Selmon said that we had to go to the ladies' section. Amanda, the hamam expert because that's what her site project is on, told us that there was probably a women's entrance. Oh how wrong we were.
We were led to the back of this gorgeous building, built for Suleyman the Magnificent, to what looked like a penitentiary: the womens' hamam. It was a weird hybrid of sorts, because on the inside it looked like a mental institution. Lovely. Needless to say, it was definitely the real thing: we were the only non-Turks there, and got some very weird looks when we walked in. We think some people actually used the hamam as their real bath, because we didn't see a shower at Eyup's house, and the hamam was only 7 lira. Anyways, we played around a bit in the hot water, and when we ventured back outside, our Turkish friends told us that they had a surprise for us.
We were driven to a beautiful apartment, where Taner's adorable greeted us with excited smiles and "Merhaba!" 's. They led us up to their terrace, which had absolutely gorgeous views of the mountains and the city of Bursa. Then the feast began! We started with fresh cherries, apricots, bananas, erik (sour green plums), and Ayran - Turkey's national drink which is salty and yogurt-based. After that, we moved on to tomato corba (soup), cicek (yogurt and cucumber soup), eggplant pilaf, lahmacun (Turkish pizza), potato salad (which is literal - its salad with potatoes in it), and Turkish coffee to top it all off. It was delicious, and every time Taner's mom would bring us a new dish, she would say, "Afiyet olsun!", which is the Turkish equivalent of "Bon Appetit!"
After dinner, Selmon said we were going to Orhan's house, so we all geared up for another trek across Bursa, only to be informed that Orhan lived on the first floor of the apartment building. Taner and Orhan are cousins, and in the Turkish tradition, their whole extended family lives in one apartment building, with one individual family unit per floor. Again, we hung out and listened to music - earlier that day I had given my iPod to Taner and Eyup to listen to, and they loved the music on it. They kept scrolling through and saying things like, "CCR! Doobie Brothers!" with their thumbs up and huge smiles on their faces. Orhan's mom came in and brought us sunflower seeds and Coke on a tray - everyone here is so hospitable and as Selmon explained several times, "the guest is very important." Then Orhan and Taner's aunt came in and gave the three girls gifts of nail polish! They are the happiest, closest, and sweetest family.
At one point in the night, Selmon changed and came back in a muscle tee and shorts and said, "Now, I am very sexy. Everyone calm down." The language barrier always adds to the hilarity of Turkey. But it can also be a very poetic thing - Selmon also told me that I had "hair the color of evening sunshine."
Sunday
We had a great sleep, and woke up in the morning to an AWESOME traditional Turkish breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, bread with rose and cherry jelly, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, sausage, and cay and Turkish coffee. After a lovely send-off from the families, including Taner's mom communicating that now she was our Turkish aunt, we headed back to the bus station and back to Istanbul, already looking forward to hosting Taner, Eyup, Selmon, and Orhan in Istanbul.
One more funny story from the bus ride to Istanbul - we got on a small shuttle bus to take us back to Taksim Square, and as we were waiting to leave, the bus driver came up to us and launched into a long string of Turkish. We thought he may want our luggage to put underneath the bus, but he pushed it away and continued his Turkish rant. He must have finally recognized the incredibly blank looks on our faces, because he stopped and said the first phrase that we understood, "Turkce yok?" which means, "No Turkish?" "Evet (yes)," we replied, "Turkce yok." He looked at us incredulously and asked "Turkce yok?" again. Again we replied. Then he went to his driver's seat, looked back and with a shrug of his shoulders at us said, "Turkce yok!"
Turkce yok is now our favorite phrase.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Friday, May 30
This morning we discussed our readings over cay (tea) and homemade cookies (delicious - almond and cinnamon) in our medrese. First, Prof. Shields wanted to hear our take of Istanbul after being in the city for 10 days. I brought up how I felt about appropriate dress. Now, when I see a woman wearing a dress above the knee I'm appalled by her lack of clothing. Many times, the clothing that I would think of as inappropriate here could be considered fairly conservative dress in the States. I even notice myself feeling weird going up to our terrace to get my laundry in just athletic shorts and a t-shirt, something I would regularly wear around town at home. I wonder if this is because I don't want to offend anyone or if I have truly began to internalize this idea.
We kept the discussion fairly brief because we were headed to Bursa for the weekend. The prof had planned on taking us there with her, but when Murat, our Turkish friend from Bursa who lives on the third floor, invited us to stay with him, she decided that it would be better if we went alone. So after several conversations of broken English and broken Turkish, we somehow formed some semblance of a plan of getting to Bursa. It was quite a complicated plan, as Murat was not traveling with us but was coming later, so we were being picked up at the bus station by his friends who we had never met before. So after packing up our communal toiletries, blankets, pillows, and towels, we headed down Istiklal, feeling very "college." I was feeling like a hardcore backpacker too, until the boys assured me that my bag was too stylish to be a backpacker's (Thanks Mark and Marybeth!)
After frantically searching for the station in order to make our bus, we finally found it - although it was too full for us, so we had to wait an hour until the next bus. We finally got on, and Mama Yekta bid us goodbye like we were her kids heading off to our first day of school, saying "Call me when you get there!"
And we were off. With barely any Turkish, having no idea who this mystic friend of Murat's actually was, and with generally no idea bout Bursa. An adventure was definitely in store for us. I sit here now at the back of the bus, squished between Clayton and a Turk, getting my first taste of outside of Istanbul.
Turkish Traffic
I must insert here a small blurb about Turkish drivers/traffic. I don't think I have provided a good enough description of Turkish drivers. Up until now, I could only speak as a pedestrian forced to dodge cars every day, which is terrifying enough. But speaking from the back of an otobus, I can make a few observations. 1) these bus drivers drive the buses like mopeds, weaving in and out of traffic and 2) street lines are barely a suggestion and probably more of an invitation for drivers to ignore every traffic law.
The bus ride to Bursa was punctuated by several interesting things: a Turkish au pere who had been sent to Denver, getting told not to use a cell phone on the bus because it would interfere with the brakes, foreign car companies like Saangyong, American cars but weird makes (Ford Fiesta?), a Turkish version if the Oreo (America wins on this one), and a bus attendant who was not amused with the seven Americans sitting in the middle of his bus.
So 3.5 hours of travel time and we just passed Sibanci University, which took 1.5 hours yesterday. Then the random Turk sitting next to Amanda told Kelly that her face looked like George Bush, then told us that the maps of Bursa that David had to piece together from our 1978 guidebook were used by Marco Polo.
And the hilarity of the bus ride continues. We go around this curve in the mountainous road we had been driving on and we are at the end of the road at the edge of the sea. We all were wondering what the heck would happen - are we taking a ferry?!? Our entire group erupted into laughter as we imagined that all the announcements that the bus driver had been making (in Turkish, of course) went along the lines of "Ok folks, remember that we WILL be getting on the ferry here in a few minutes."
So we got on and walked around the boat for awhile, got some cay and then Amanda and I decided to try a Turkish phenomenon called "Corn in Cup." Which, in fact, is corn in a cup. We saw this Turkish guy get his before us, and he got pomegranate syrup in his, so we decided this was the Turkish thing to do and asked for pomegranate in ours. And lemon. It was ok, but not something I would get again.
After getting back on the bus and on dry land, we only had about an hour until Bursa. I made friends with the woman sitting on the bus behind me, who was a Muslim Turk living in Germany. Our friendship began when I dropped my hairclip and she made it her personal mission to find it for me. Kevin was able to actually able to converse with them in Turkish (that's how we found out about where they were from). I got out some chocolate and offered it to her and showed her that it was German chocolate, but she declined, laughing and patting me on the back. I offered it to the Turk that was sitting next to Amanda, and he took it but had a terrible look on his face when he bit into it. Prof. Shields had told us that there is basically no dark chocolate in Turkey, and this happened 70% cocoa, so I assumed that he thought it was bitter and asked him. He said yes, and then said that it was as sweet as my face. Great, I thought, my face is as sweet as really bitter chocolate. But then, using Kevin's handy Turkish-English dictionary, he clarified, explaining that what he meant to say was the sweetness of my face made him believe that the chocolate would be sweet. Much better.
We finally arrived at the bus station, wondering how in the world we would find Murat's friends. Luckily, they were right there waiting for us, asking us "Americans?" "EVET!" we replied joyfully (evet = yes in Turkish). Another bus ride and a slight walk, we arrived at
Eyup's house. We were ushered into the room where we would be sleeping - 12 x 12 rhombus. Amanda accurately quipped, "When do you ever use that shape?" She was right - this was the first I've ever seen a rhombus in action. The Turks brought the party to us with a mixed drink of sarap (wine) and Gazoz, a soda that kind of tastes like Sprite. Surprisingly, it tasted pretty good. Funny thing - the boys all got Efes and the girls got the fruity wine drink. Typical.
After some of that, some music, and about 3 packs of chainsmoking cigarettes for each Turk, we finally got to bed. We finally had figured out sleeping arrangements between the long skinny futon, the short fat futon, the twin bed, and the floor, when Selmon came in and announced that the three Turks would be spending the night in the room also. So now ten of us were sleeping in one 12 x 12 rhombus. Adventure.
This morning we discussed our readings over cay (tea) and homemade cookies (delicious - almond and cinnamon) in our medrese. First, Prof. Shields wanted to hear our take of Istanbul after being in the city for 10 days. I brought up how I felt about appropriate dress. Now, when I see a woman wearing a dress above the knee I'm appalled by her lack of clothing. Many times, the clothing that I would think of as inappropriate here could be considered fairly conservative dress in the States. I even notice myself feeling weird going up to our terrace to get my laundry in just athletic shorts and a t-shirt, something I would regularly wear around town at home. I wonder if this is because I don't want to offend anyone or if I have truly began to internalize this idea.
We kept the discussion fairly brief because we were headed to Bursa for the weekend. The prof had planned on taking us there with her, but when Murat, our Turkish friend from Bursa who lives on the third floor, invited us to stay with him, she decided that it would be better if we went alone. So after several conversations of broken English and broken Turkish, we somehow formed some semblance of a plan of getting to Bursa. It was quite a complicated plan, as Murat was not traveling with us but was coming later, so we were being picked up at the bus station by his friends who we had never met before. So after packing up our communal toiletries, blankets, pillows, and towels, we headed down Istiklal, feeling very "college." I was feeling like a hardcore backpacker too, until the boys assured me that my bag was too stylish to be a backpacker's (Thanks Mark and Marybeth!)
After frantically searching for the station in order to make our bus, we finally found it - although it was too full for us, so we had to wait an hour until the next bus. We finally got on, and Mama Yekta bid us goodbye like we were her kids heading off to our first day of school, saying "Call me when you get there!"
And we were off. With barely any Turkish, having no idea who this mystic friend of Murat's actually was, and with generally no idea bout Bursa. An adventure was definitely in store for us. I sit here now at the back of the bus, squished between Clayton and a Turk, getting my first taste of outside of Istanbul.
Turkish Traffic
I must insert here a small blurb about Turkish drivers/traffic. I don't think I have provided a good enough description of Turkish drivers. Up until now, I could only speak as a pedestrian forced to dodge cars every day, which is terrifying enough. But speaking from the back of an otobus, I can make a few observations. 1) these bus drivers drive the buses like mopeds, weaving in and out of traffic and 2) street lines are barely a suggestion and probably more of an invitation for drivers to ignore every traffic law.
The bus ride to Bursa was punctuated by several interesting things: a Turkish au pere who had been sent to Denver, getting told not to use a cell phone on the bus because it would interfere with the brakes, foreign car companies like Saangyong, American cars but weird makes (Ford Fiesta?), a Turkish version if the Oreo (America wins on this one), and a bus attendant who was not amused with the seven Americans sitting in the middle of his bus.
So 3.5 hours of travel time and we just passed Sibanci University, which took 1.5 hours yesterday. Then the random Turk sitting next to Amanda told Kelly that her face looked like George Bush, then told us that the maps of Bursa that David had to piece together from our 1978 guidebook were used by Marco Polo.
And the hilarity of the bus ride continues. We go around this curve in the mountainous road we had been driving on and we are at the end of the road at the edge of the sea. We all were wondering what the heck would happen - are we taking a ferry?!? Our entire group erupted into laughter as we imagined that all the announcements that the bus driver had been making (in Turkish, of course) went along the lines of "Ok folks, remember that we WILL be getting on the ferry here in a few minutes."
So we got on and walked around the boat for awhile, got some cay and then Amanda and I decided to try a Turkish phenomenon called "Corn in Cup." Which, in fact, is corn in a cup. We saw this Turkish guy get his before us, and he got pomegranate syrup in his, so we decided this was the Turkish thing to do and asked for pomegranate in ours. And lemon. It was ok, but not something I would get again.
After getting back on the bus and on dry land, we only had about an hour until Bursa. I made friends with the woman sitting on the bus behind me, who was a Muslim Turk living in Germany. Our friendship began when I dropped my hairclip and she made it her personal mission to find it for me. Kevin was able to actually able to converse with them in Turkish (that's how we found out about where they were from). I got out some chocolate and offered it to her and showed her that it was German chocolate, but she declined, laughing and patting me on the back. I offered it to the Turk that was sitting next to Amanda, and he took it but had a terrible look on his face when he bit into it. Prof. Shields had told us that there is basically no dark chocolate in Turkey, and this happened 70% cocoa, so I assumed that he thought it was bitter and asked him. He said yes, and then said that it was as sweet as my face. Great, I thought, my face is as sweet as really bitter chocolate. But then, using Kevin's handy Turkish-English dictionary, he clarified, explaining that what he meant to say was the sweetness of my face made him believe that the chocolate would be sweet. Much better.
We finally arrived at the bus station, wondering how in the world we would find Murat's friends. Luckily, they were right there waiting for us, asking us "Americans?" "EVET!" we replied joyfully (evet = yes in Turkish). Another bus ride and a slight walk, we arrived at
Eyup's house. We were ushered into the room where we would be sleeping - 12 x 12 rhombus. Amanda accurately quipped, "When do you ever use that shape?" She was right - this was the first I've ever seen a rhombus in action. The Turks brought the party to us with a mixed drink of sarap (wine) and Gazoz, a soda that kind of tastes like Sprite. Surprisingly, it tasted pretty good. Funny thing - the boys all got Efes and the girls got the fruity wine drink. Typical.
After some of that, some music, and about 3 packs of chainsmoking cigarettes for each Turk, we finally got to bed. We finally had figured out sleeping arrangements between the long skinny futon, the short fat futon, the twin bed, and the floor, when Selmon came in and announced that the three Turks would be spending the night in the room also. So now ten of us were sleeping in one 12 x 12 rhombus. Adventure.
Thursday, May 29
a view of the campus of Sibanci University
Today we headed to Sabanci University on the outskirts of Istanbul to meet up with some students our age. After an adventurous 1 1/12 trek, we arrived at Sabanci. The university has a beautiful campus, but in a very different way than the campus of UNC. While UNC is the oldest public university in the US, Sibanci was only just opened eight years ago. Its newness is definitely reflected in the architecture and layout of the university. Sibanci is also the only interdisciplinary university in Turkey. The students that we met there were in the English program that precedes actual university studies, and they had prepared a presentation for us about Turkish culture. It was very informative and interesting, but the highlight had to be when one of the students made a slight mistake in word choice when talking about the Islamic sacrifices and explained to us that they sacrificed “coaches, bullocks, and calves.” I think she meant “cows, bulls, and calves…”
After lunch in their cafeteria, we got a tour of the University – very nice facilities, although I think we got them on the basketball court! We showed them a picture of the Dean Dome and they were less than enthused about showing us their gym.
We exchanged e-mails and phone numbers, promising to meet up with them sometime next week. They were so welcoming and eager – right in line with the Turkish hospitality that we have experienced since we arrived here.
the library - far less crowded by both chairs and people than UNC's
another view of campus, from an outdoor amphitheatre
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