October 27, 2009

Yasak

Here in Turkey you find this word a lot. Yasak means forbidden... but really only sometimes. From the first day that we arrived in Turkey, to the day we moved into our dorms, to the signs we see in all of the dolmuşes that take to get around, this word has crossed my path. Turkey is known to be a country with contradictions at every turn, this just so happens to be one of these contradictions. It has been a little over a year since smoking was banned inside restaurants, stores, dorm rooms, and nargile (hooka) places, but the signs that mark it as forbidden, oddly enough, often have people smoking under them. A nice smoke free bar can turn into a hazy, cloud filled room anywhere between the hours of 12am and 1am. A dolmuş driver will start smoking when all of the lady passengers have left the bus. A student will smoke in the halls of the dorm or even inside their dorm room if they have altered their smoke alarm a little. This is a statement being made. They are all saying, “So what? I am smoking. Fine me!” While getting caught in doors by the police or by dormitory management will find you out of 62 YTL, people often see it as only 62 YTL and go on about their business. For businesses like restaurants, bars, and nargile places, often a police officer takes a bribe from the owner to conveniently look the other way. It is even more comical when the police is there smoking with the owner. It may be forbidden but really it isn’t.

The second place I found this word was in each and every rule and statement on my housing form. Just to give you a few examples: It is forbidden to have visitors after 11pm and before 2pm. It is forbidden to be in a member of the opposite sex’s dorm after 11pm. (And my favorite)It is forbidden to have alcohol in your dorm room or on campus. For that last one, the cleaning staff (remember the ones that clean your room from top to bottom every week?) check every nook and cranny of your room to make sure that you don’t have any. While it may be forbidden, it surely isn’t. Like all of the other things that are forbidden here, people’s friends and girlfriends come and go as they please, alcohol is conveniently hidden in their locked drawer or in their desks, and there is a general disregard for the rules within limits. Just this week I have been harassed by the head of the DSS, the Dormitory Management Service, on 4 separate occasions this week about having a visitor in or around the dorm. I swear he was stalking me and looking to bust me for cooking with a girl in the kitchen at 11pm, for speaking with a girl in the cafeteria (conveniently attached to our dorm), for speaking with girls outside of our dorm at 3am, and for eating with my friends at 4am in the morning. He even stopped by my room tonight to see if everything was alright and to get me to sign a form for this month that claimed it to be. I should have put everything is alright except for the fact that you are really creepy, but alas, I held back. In all actuality though, he is probably lurking outside of my door as I type this… -shudders-

Even Youtube is yasak. From the words of a angry rantings of a young Greek boy badmouthing Mustafa Atatürk, to the wonderful banter between Youtube and Turkey, my favorite word was born came fourth. Instead of taking down the video, Turkey, as a country, banned Youtube all together. But like everything else here, being forbidden doesn’t really mean much. Here on Koç University campus, Youtube is allowed and its use is even encouraged. Outside of campus, people attain their Youtube fix by using proxy.youtube.com to watch music videos, political speeches, and of course viral videos.

Another place that you will find my new favorite word is on each and every traffic sign. It is forbidden to drive both ways on a one way street, but people do it anyways. This often makes it very difficult to cross a street because you could be looking the right way and still get hit. It is forbidden to drive on the train tracks, but if you have the gusto to do it and you are in either a taksi or on a motor bike it is like your personal lane. It is even forbidden to speak badly about Mustafa Atatürk or about the Türkçe Nation, but people here are very politically oriented so if you argue it right, you might be ok. Everyone here has an opinion on everything political. Either someone is a complete monster or a total saint. If I remember one thing about Turkey, it would have to be that everything here revolves around politics. It is sad, but sometimes I feel that my Turkish friends know more about US politics than I do... I think I might need to read the NY Times a little more.

Here, some rules are meant to be bent and others broken. I just hope that I can keep them all straight, Inşallah!

As always,
You are what you eat, and burası Türkiye (This is Turkey)
JD

October 19, 2009

Guys guide to Turkish girls: from an exchange student prospective


After almost a month of being in Turkey, one finds that learning about the country that we will be living in for an extended time is more than just learning the language, the curse words, the dolmuş routes, or what are the best places to go in Taksim; it’s the women. One of my mentors once told me that as an exchange student I had no chance at all at dating a Turkish girl.  If you know me, that translated into a challenge rather than an obstacle. From the shy demeanors that they sometimes exhibit to the loving, mothering nature that they offer to the sometimes violent nature I have experienced, the women here are truly complex creatures.  More often than not they travel in a pack which doesn’t make it much easier for me to speak with them. Luckily, I have found a way around this. The fastest way to meet Turkish girls is through their stomachs. From offering to buy them tea to offering them chocolate in a boring lecture class, it is a sure way to make new friends as well as develop intrigue about who you are. *note make sure that you don’t try to give chocolate to girls that have boyfriends, brothers, fathers, or guy friends that might be angered by this gesture of friendship. It might not bode well for you in the future. You have been warned!
                On to dating, it is different here than I expected. Back in the States, when I liked a girl, I would ask her to go to dinner (better yet to let me cook her dinner), a concert, or go dancing with me. I date girls in order to find out more about them besides how much work they have or what new movie they watched. I do it to establish a more personal connection with them. I use it as a litmus test to find out if I really do want to have a serious relationship. Here, it is the common belief that you would only really date someone if you intended to marry them. I don’t know about you, but I am not ready to get married just yet.  After that initial meeting and maybe a joke for good measure, I have found that too often we try to mimic the Turkish culture and fail horribly. The thing that I am referring to is the kiss. Here in Turkey, guys kiss guys on the cheeks as well as girls kissing girls. I have also seen guys kissing girls, but it is important to know when to do this. From what I have gathered, a kiss on the cheek is more of something that is done when people haven’t seen each other in a while. If you are going to attempt it, decide on a side to start on with it and stick to it. There is nothing worse than fumbling a kiss and it being weird or awkward for a significant time afterwards. Another important note is who to kiss and when. Here is a helpful list of people to not kiss: professors, teaching assistants, ISS cleaning staff, cafeteria workers, guys you meet for the first time, girls in the hallways, and the Koç bees. In fact, don’t kiss anyone on the cheeks unless they are doing it first. There might not be such a thing as personal space here, but there is such a thing as common sense.
                While I personally haven’t been fighting the girls off of me, I have heard of some exchange students who have. Being selective in which Turkish girls you hang out with and date can be hard, but I have found a pretty good system to do it. I find that it is better to date the girls that don’t wear Ugg boots when it is +23 C outside. You might call me a loser or you might agree with me, but if you are sweating, it doesn’t matter how comfortable they are it is not snowing and therefore you should take them off. I personally have found that the girls, at Koç at least, fit in to roughly two  categories; the ones that wear boots and the ones that wear Converse. While I have never seen such a popular shoe in all of my travels, I can’t say that I am surprised. Fashion is important as well as what seems to be some sort of hierarchy. I really can’t comment on this subject too much, but I can say that you will probably get in to less trouble with a girl who kicks your butt in Converse rather than boots. But, alas, this is a strictly a very broad generalization.  
I have heard of a couple of places to go on first dates here in Sariyer that are both reasonable for the guys pocket book and classy enough to take a date to. I find that a common thread between them all is their location along the Bosphorus and the view that they have. Even if you don’t have a car, you can get find that public transportation is readily available and can take you to any destination along the Bosphorus. When you are ready to step up your game, I suggest you check out some places further into the city, but be ready to pay the price because they are significantly more expensive than other places you might find. If you ever get to the second date, make sure you check out the Aşk Café. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed. If you decide to go the international food route, you better be willing to pay for it! While some places would run you 60TL others might top out at over 100TL, so make sure you do your homework otherwise you will be rolling up your sleeves.
The last piece of advice that I have received when pursuing Turkish girls is, “good luck”. This advice was given to me and now I pass it on to you. Good luck!
Until next time,
You are what you eat and I am looking for a fine catch

JD

October 13, 2009

Shadow Theater and Traveling: Bursa, Çannacoli, and Troy



The one thing that has surprised me about my experience here with CIEE is that we are not like every other exchange student. We are the elite exchange students.  We are not just here to learn the language. Through CIEE the doors of the history, culture, people, politics, and food of Turkey have been opened to us. They have done this through the people that they have had us meet, the side trips we go on every other week, the movies that they organize, the meals they organize (and pay for), and cultural interactions and exchanges that we participate in.
Thanks to the IMF Riots in Taksim, this week was no different. After watching a seemingly cultural historical comedy named Karagoz and Hacivat we learned the fable of the two legendary comedians who successfully delayed the construction of the town of Bursa’s minaret and paid for it with their lives. From this end, the chief architect created shadow puppets, made from oiled, stretched camel hides, and gave birth to one of the oldest art forms still being practiced today; The Karagos and Hacivat shadow theater. CIEE arranged one of the master puppeteers to perform for us. It was an incredible performance, complete with flying carpets, slap-stick comedy, dancing girls, and magic. It really gives the three stooges a run for their money.


The art and skill of the master puppeteer, who controlled all of the puppets as well as the voices for all the different characters, was supplemented only by a tambourine played by his son.  Truly a once in a life time experience! Next time I see it, I will have learned quite a bit more Turkish and hopefully understand more than just a few words.  Exploring more of Bursa, the home to the first Ottoman capital (and apparently the most beautiful and warrior like women in all of Turkey as my friend from Bursa told me) we visited the great mosque built in the 12th or 13th century which is still in use today. This mosque was the backdrop for the lunch that we had. Each town in Turkey is famous for a particular dish. Bursa’s dish was the Bursa Kerbap also known as the Iskander Kerbab. It is comprised of thinly sliced lamb from a vertical oven served with a yogurt, tomato sauce, and squares of bread. Underneath the succulent sliced meat are grilled tomatoes, green peppers, and Baba Ganoush (a sauce made from stewed eggplants, lemon, and olive oil). Every bite we took was with a chorus of the Koran, head scarves, and the Mufti’s call to prayer. On this Friday afternoon, the most important time of prayer for Muslims, the great mosque was packed to capacity and people began laying carpets and cardboard squares down in the streets so that they could participate in the prayers. Sipping my afternoon chai overlooking this spectacle, I was resigned to the fact that I am a bad Muslim. I guess that I’ll make up for it by being a good student. 
Playing hopscotch between the European and Asian side has its benefits. Traveling to Troy (Troia) to see the city brought down by jealousy, lust, and rage, stories that echoed in my head from my grade school days returned to me.


While standing in the temple to Athena, I could imagine the sound of the Greek gods clashing from the sound of the waves in the far off horizon and the constant wind that surrounded us. While the Trojan horse was gone, the history of the city still remained and was constantly being unearthed by archeologists. From the top of the Turkish Mount Olympus we could see the Gallipoli Penninsula and the war memorials from Turkey’s more recent past.
Making it over to the Gallipoli (Çannacoli) about sunset, we hugged the windows of our tour bus as we met memorial after memorial of French, Aussie, Kiwi (New Zealanders), and Last Sons of the Ottoman empire’s soldiers who gave their lives to respectfully take and protect the Dardanelle Straights. We made our way to the trenches overlooking the Dardanelles as the sun melted into the sea and set the water on fire.


Distant islands disappeared under a hazy shawl and my first glimpse of Greece disappeared with it.  Paying our last respects at the Turkish war memorial, I read these powerful words: “There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they live side by side here in this country of Ours.”


Successfully protecting their country from a French and Anzac coalition, Turkey showed its might and valor. While in reality the conflict ended in a stalemate, Turkey gained far more than just experience in war. They guided a charismatic war hero named Mustafa Kermal Ataturk, the father of modern Turkey and the harbinger of law, social, and financial reform that brought the Ottoman Empire out of the dark ages into modernity. The pride of the Turkish people has no other country with which it can be compared to. Arguing otherwise might just get you seriously injured or even jailed…
On our way back to Koç and back to Istanbul, we stopped to visit a local organic farm, Named the Klan Farm, outside the town of Eçebat, and were able to see yet another side of Turkey. Aside from trying to develop a lifestyle through the use of going back to the basics, they set aside the need and use for pesticided and are trying to be profitable at the same time.  They do not receive the subsides that all of the other farms get because of this and the fact that they do not use genetically altered seeds makes them almost revolutionary.  We were graciously welcomed to the farm and took a tractor ride out to their fields. We rolled up ourselves and helped to weed an entire field of vegetables. After we washed up at the house, we were treated to an incredible organic lunch comprised of all of the organic food that they produce. Lunch, if I can call it that, was  actually more of a feast, wave after wave of domato çorba (tomato soup), eckmek (bread), borek (Think of it like a spinach and cheese puff pastry), Parslain and yogurt, dolma (stuffed eggplants and bell peppers), Kofte (Meat rolled in dough), and for dessert, Peyair Hervası ( a sweet cornmeal soaked in a rose water, sugar, honey mix) and as much fruit as we could stomach.


The farm has set up an eco-tourist business and offers people a chance to stay on the organic farm for a small fee. Meals are free as long as you work. If you work, you eat. It’s as simple as that. I am grateful that CIEE had us stop here to visit and see yet another way that Turkey is modernizing and developing as a nation and to speak to the farmers that are working to make this happen.
Until next time,
You are what you eat, and I am enjoying the star treatment



JD

October 5, 2009

ASIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday we decided to take a trip to Asia to visit Büyükada, which literally translates to Big Island. Funny, it is the biggest island or the nine so called Princes’ Islands. Oh Turkey, how you like your words and their literal translations. What started out as a meager group of 4 people who were on time evolved into a mass of people awakening from their drunken revelries trying to contact their friends to see if they would join and failing. I too tried to contact my friend and got as far as a hybrid groan and a no. You have to wonder what everyone did. I finished all of this week’s homework. Lame I know, but going to Taxim (Think Bourbon Street, except for about a mile long and so strip clubs. It is a Muslim country ;) ) every night isn’t why I came to Turkey. I know that most of the exchange student won’t agree with this, but I’m not here for them.




With that aside, traveling down the main highway towards our grand adventure down all of those streets we wandered back previously at 4 or 5 am, the Bosphorus Bridge came into sight. Where we would have previously let it pass us by as we traveled into Istanbul, today was different. Istanbul being the city that it is, a mega urban area, just being on one continent is not enough. The city which population tops out at about 13 million people has another name, the door to Asia. Crossing the bridge that I have only seen in postcards and as late night study breaks with Google Earth. I guess when you live on one side and have to commute to the other side daily, the novelty of it wears off. Luckily for me, this is not the case. I can tell you that I have been to Asia and it was good.


After reaching the port where sea busses literally parallel parked to load and unload passengers, we took a 30 min boat ride through the Sea of Marmara to get to our final destination. And yes, I already know what you are thinking. Yes, I was on a boat! I-AM-T-PAIN. Stares and little kids pulling my dreadlocks aside, we disembarked to find that this seemingly bustling Island was devoid of one important thing. CARS!?!?!? There are no cars allowed on Princes’ Island. Replaced by horse drawn carts and bicycles, the roads were packed with people walking over the entire island. With my first chance to explore without getting lost in Turkey, I instantly disappeared into the nearest alley and proceeded to climb the hill to the top of the Island. I ended up walking into the residential district of the island. Wonderful white and almost indigo Bougainvillea sprouted from the side of every house and garden in sight. People enjoying their mid-morning/afternoon tea, to their surprise; found a determined Caribbean trudging through their neighborhood. Needles to say, I was quite a spectacle as old grandmas froze and old men smiled. It was wonderful to find myself amidst the quiet rustling of flowers, the creaking of old rusted gates, and soft footsteps of packs of roaming cats looking for handouts. After being politely asked to leave the residential area, I met up with some group members who had taken the first opportunity to try the Ice cream. Together we searched for a place where we could swim, walking around to the Western side of the island with wonderful companions in the form of stray dogs. Wonderful flea ridden little things. I would like to thank them though. If it wasn’t for them the pack of 30 stray dogs that ambushed us as we tried to make it down to the beach would have pretty much attacked all of us for trespassing. Horse carriage back allowed me to enjoy the prospects of rest and the calming clatter of horse hooves against pavement carried me straight into town. I was rewarded with pasticcio and almond ice cream, a cup of tea, good company, and a game of Batgammon (Tavla here) while waiting for the ferry to carry us back to the mainland.

Our advisor took our group, which was topping out at about 40, down Baghdad Street, which in Ottoman times was a street that led directly to Baghdad (hence it’s name). This bustling area was dotted with all kinds of shops, stores, bars, restaurants (including TGIF, KFC, and McDonalds :/). After walking 2km, we found ourselves at a restaurant that was packed to capacity and outwardly had no room for one person let alone 40 people could eat. Not daunted, our leader walked directly to the back of the restaurant and we sat on benches inside while waiting for tables to clear. To our surprise, 5 minutes later the waiters brought the tables to us and the waiting room was converted into an indoor restaurant. The no smoking indoors law passed here in Turkey surely has had a profound effect on not only the bars, but also the restaurants especially because no one wanted to sit inside. I can surely attest to it being a miracle that 40 people were served on a Saturday night in one of the busiest places in the district.


The restaurant was famous for a dish called Manti. It was the Turkish answer to Italian Ravioli. While it looks normal and bland, it is stuffed with ground beef and onion with a sprinkle of salt and black pepper. They can either fried or boiled. They are served in a yogurt, garlic, red pepper, and olive oil sauce. While, Italian ravioli might lose its flavor the more that you eat it, each little bite sized morsel explodes with flavor in your mouth. I prefer the boiled Manti vs. the Fried Manti because of the texture and the flavor, but you will have to try it for yourself and decide.

Until next time,

you are what you eat, and I am exploring the possibilities!




JD

October 2, 2009

Koç University, everything you'd expect from a private university and more...

To describe Koç University as beautiful would be and understatement...




While in the Turkish countryside surrounded by free range horses and cows, it operates essentially as its own city. Encompassed by a thick forest, there are numerous roads that cut through the forest that connect it to the surrounding towns and the Black Sea.


It is owned by the Koç family, which is one of the richest families in Turkey. The Koç family owns Yapi Krediti, which is a national bank of Turkey, and a market store called Koçtas, which is like a home depot (with the orange aprons and all). The school is, if I am not mistaken, the second best and most expensive private school in all of Turkey. The only more expensive school is Bayiazaçi University which is located in Rumeli Faneri, a castle on the banks for the university. It is populated by all of the richest kids imaginable. While normal college students in the states would probably drive a SUV or some sort of sedan, the standard mode of transportation here is either the BMW, the Mercedes, the Range Rover, or some other type of luxury car. Despite the students wealth, the students here are accepting, intelligent, and ultimately genuine people. It is really comforting to find such helpful people so high up on the socio-economic ladder.



The school is set up and divided into three parts: the academic buildings, the student dorms, and the professors colony. The school sits on the top of one of the highest hill here and overlooks the beginning of the Bosporus as the Black Sea’s waters are channeled through it. From the 8 story tall clock tower, you can see the entire campus, the surrounding area, the Black Sea, the ships in queue, and the thick forest sprawling out in every direction. The forest acts as a buffer zone from the world and if that wasn’t enough, there is a barbed wire fence that surrounds the perimeter of campus. We even have to show our student ID’s to the guards posted like sentinels around campus whenever we cross the threshold onto campus. While the campus sleeps, there are an army of maintenance people and cleaning staff that literally clean the University from top to bottom. Transformed, the school is in pristine condition when the university students descend upon it and the whole dance starts all over again. While just about the size of Rice (3500) it operates on only a few majors. Most of the people that I have met here are business administration, economics, or international relations. Finding that very few people are actually engineers (and even less that are women except for the Bio Engineers), I have discovered that engineers command great respect from the entire school. The way it should be in my opinion :p.


Getting around campus has been quite entertaining. Here, the use of the steam tunnels is not just permitted, it is encouraged. From the student center, there is a tunnel that connects each and every academic building. Changes in the type and color of the tiles as well as helpful graffiti drawn by students helps you locate where you are in the steam tunnels. Of course for me, I just have to walk to the very end of the tunnel to get to the engineering building. This is funny/sad because I live in the S dorm which is the furthest away from the engineering building. Sometimes you just have to laugh at these things… I’ll have an awesome butt from doing all these stairs, so I can’t really complain too much.
 
After getting used to the stares and all of the girls kind of following me from building to building, I decided to brave the food court. I must say, that even the cafeteria food here is worlds better (and less expensive)than what we have back in the states. Even with this benefit, the exchange students and I have completely taken over the S dorm’s kitchen. Every night around dinner (7-10:30) you can find a flurry of English, German, Italian, and Singaporean students perforating the halls with sounds of merriment and delicious food. I call it the Exchange Café. The kitchen, which thanks to us is fully stocked and always in use, is the curious spectacle of all the Turkish students here. Dinner is not only meal, it is also a social event. Meeting new exchange students who have heard about our cooking exploits and through word of mouth have come down to join in on the merriment. Tonight we were about 30 people strong. The maintenance staff keeps curiously popping in and seeing what we are cooking as well as offering the chef’s numerous cups of hot apple tea. I could not have asked for a better surprise upon being put in this dorm.

Until next time,
You are what you eat, and I am eating with all my new friends!