Musings

I have been here several months now. It's time for me to start generalizing about Turkey with more authority. There are lots of things to love about Turkey, and happily I have found more to like than dislike. Unfortunately I don't think I can ever truly share my reasons for loving Turkey with a Turkish person, because they will never understand the appeal.

Turkish hospitality does live up to the constant praise it receives in the guidebooks, but it also manifests itself in unexpected ways. Generally I would describe Turkish people as much more communal than Americans. Helping those around you is of the utmost social importance. There are the functional, practical aspects of life that have given rise to this attitude--for example, there are still town bread ovens in use (seriously--soon you will probably be able to get free wifi at the village oven while you wait for your food to cook). But there is also a tacit or explicit resistance to the American style (also known by Turks as the "European" style) of strict, "pulling-oneself-up-by-the-bootstraps" individuality that makes up such an important part of our culture. While individual drive is of course important, it is couched in the idea of putting everyone else before oneself. My interpretation of Turkish ambition is that in order to be able to provide for your friends and family, and in order to be a spectacular host, you need to earn money and have things. One improves one's position in life not just for personal gain, but in order to be that person who grabs the check at the end of the meal and says "It's on me," or to be able to afford a room with an extra bed in case anyone needs to stay the night. Of course, there are greedy, selfish people in Turkey, but just as a reminder I am dealing in generalizations and ideals in this blog post.

There are some other more lighthearted things I love about Turkey. PowerTurk, the Top 40 music channel that one can expect to see on TV's everywhere from the home of a friend to the trendiest restaurant (provided there is not a futbol match happening), is like a good friend who is always around and ready to have a good time. It's not quite as ubiquitous as teacups or likenesses of Atatürk, but it comes close. And I've come to love congregating with friends around coal-burning stoves (soba), the best example of which was that time one of my Turkish friends straight up set fire to an old pair of jeans in his soba, the flames of which we eventually used to roast chestnuts and make tea. ("Pants?!" I exclaimed in Turkish when seeing him do this. "They were old," he replied, matter of factly, with a shrug suggesting I was being some kind of pants-burning prude.) Sobalar are awesome, coal fumes notwithstanding.

Then there a things that I like about Turkey but will definitely never get used to seeing. Turkish men love their man-bags, for one. I think there is an unwritten but important rule that men over 30 must carry a small, square handbag which may or may not contain nothing but a wallet (shoulder strap optional). And speaking of men over 30, I will never be able to take them seriously when they drive around pumping Inna or other hot techno beats, sometimes with their families in tow. I also might not ever grow accustomed to men randomly singing to or at me. They break out a soulful folk tune at the most random times, and I am at a loss for what I should be doing during these impromptu concerts. (As an aside, I have been asked on several occasions to sing a song at a moment's notice, just by way of something to entertain a gathered group. This country really needs to warm up to karaoke, is all.) But what does one do when a man is singing in your direction? My Fulbright cohort posed it thusly: "Should I clap along? Nod? What facial expression should I assume?" You may think we could look to Turkish females for guidance, but they are typically already ignoring the men, and to be fair, they might be jealous that the Americans are receiving these attentions.

Turkish folk health wisdom is also a force to be reckoned with. Earlier today I was with a friend who was readying himself for a soccer game. He had donned an egregious monochrome tracksuit and was waiting for his friend to phone him. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his tracksuit pocket and said "It's good to smoke before a match." Another example- if one ever tires of drinking tea whilst in Turkey (I won't, but it's not unheard of), all you have to do is have a piece of fruit nearby. Turks are absolutely dumbfounded by my strange custom of occasionally enjoying a piece of fruit and a cup of tea in rapid succession. This is simply not done here. Turks also fear drafts (and a woman with wet hair is a prime target for EVERY KNOWN DISEASE), bare feet, and any dose of an antibiotic less than three times the amount an American doctor would hesitate before prescribing.

On the bright side, the fear of drafts means I almost never have to worry about being cold here. Quite the opposite in fact- I have been lucky enough to encounter much more warmth than anything else while in Uşak.