Fitting in is hard to do...

Walking down the street in front of Sultanamet (the Blue Mosque)  and Hagia Sophia, we made our way through waves of tourists and historic monuments literally sandwiched together.. Even if the Turks aren’t devout Muslims, I have to give them credit for being respectful. They turn their music down and stop speaking at deafening levels. They answer the call in their own way, even if it is 5 times a day. I think I am used to it now.

What I am not used to is the stares that I am getting. Growing up, I have always been worried about fitting in and being accepted. Trying my hardest to fit in with what everyone did and thought. As I grew into my own person in college, I stopped trying to conform and develop my own style and personality. Here in Turkey, the people desperately try to stand out by dying their hair or by getting piercings or tattoos.  They change their clothes, they have the best things, and they even speak several different languages. Even with all of this, they are still one people. They still are Turks. As a visitor to this beautiful and lively country, I worry that I stand out too much. When I walk down the street, people stare. They don’t stare in a bad way, just in a curious, just can’t look away stare. It is a stare of a person who is curious about who you are and why you are there. It was odd at first and it made me feel uncomfortable; the girls and women looking at me and shying away when I saw them doing it, guys staring at me and pulling on my dreadlocks to make sure they were real (some of them reached right out and pulled them as I was passing them in the streets, while some people waited behind me for a prized dreadlock to find its way into their had so they could roll it with their fingers), and the people who tried to candidly take pictures of me and even with me when I was at the mall or in a Mosque thinking that I was some sort of superstar. Meh, I used to want to be famous, but now I am just content with being different.

There is hope though! Speaking with the local people here in Turkish makes them smile. Whether on the Dolmuş (a mini bus that takes us to and from our little campus into the Neighborıng town of Sarıyer) or in the Mısır Çarşısı (The ancient spice bazaar) the sheer volume of tourists that visit this country can make hearing Turkish hard, even in the heart of Istanbul. Speaking with my awesome mentors Yasimin (Bos Bos, the head mentor), Dörukhan (Captain D, her best friend), and Tuçhe (Cork  Screw, one of the only women in Mechanical Engineering and a new member of team crazy hair because of her amazing curly hair (Jana, you would love her)) has done wonders for my ability to speak and understand Turkish. After 7 days, I can already order food and Çay ( Bir ne çay isteyorem, lütfen), I can apologize profusely (üsgünüm),  I can barter  , I can ask for a student discount (Oğrenci faiyat lütfen), I can curse profusely (look them up yourselves… lol), I can say that I love you (seni seviyurom), I can count to 100, and I can even pronounce my mentors names correctly (Major Bonus Points). Too bad it will be even longer before I stop confusing Shena with Elena… I’ll get there soon enough.

I start classes today so wish me luck!

 

Until next time,
You are what you eat, and I am savoring every bit of it!