Anadolu mola

Look at this beast!

The internet in this bus is faster than the internet in my apartment. Seriously, I cannot describe how much I love Turkish buses. They are five-star hotels on wheels- they give you a snack (sometimes TWO snacks) and a beverage (Turks are the only people I can think of who thought 'Hey, doling out cups of boiling water inside a moving vehicle sounds like a good idea...'), and often will give you a blanket or pillow if you ask, AND the newest and nicest buses have in-bus WCs in addition to 3G internet, MP3s, TV, movies, and video games. What more could you need? Anadolu, the major company which has one of its home otogars in Uşak, is happily one of the best. They ALSO offer magazines and bad novels to read, and little disposable coverlets for your headset.

I'm on my way to Antalya now, by the way. It's Republic Day Weekend, so no afternoon class!

The Call to Prayer

I've come to like hearing the sound of the call to prayer (Turkish ezan) throughout my day here. It marks the passing of time in the day kind of like dog-eared pages of a book. I heard a rumor that the call is played or recited (sometimes it is prerecorded, sometimes sung live) at slightly different times every day in every part of Turkey so that someone is praying everywhere, at every moment of the day, every day (obviously this would be contingent on people praying in other parts of the world, but still). That's a really interesting and cool result of a unified religion, no?

In any case, out of respect, televisions and radio are muted or turned off when the call to prayer is heard. Many people keep talking or eating or whatever it was they were doing, but electronic background noises are muted. Today I caught myself turning off my music when I heard it- I didn't really do it on purpose, and I was alone in my room, but it still seemed somewhat rude to not turn my music down. I know some secular Turks bristle at this auditory symbol of the religious ideology their country is steeped in...but as a secular American with no real Muslim ties to speak of, I just find it a pleasant reminder that I am living in Turkey.

The Turkish Twist

One of the more witty and insightful Fulbrighters came up with a neat little phrase that summarizes Turkey perhaps more aptly than the "four T's". We call it "The Turkish twist", which is not a dance (I will invent that later), but rather, the strange ways that a perfectly normal experience is rendered confusing and stressful for no real reason other than the fact that we are in Turkey.

For example (mesela), two weekends ago I went to Sinop. I had a lovely time with the three other Fulbrighters there and got to see the Black Sea, eat fresh fish in a floating restaurant, and hone my tavla (backgammon) skills. However, after the first night of staying in the polisevi (police house, where the two Sinop Fulbrighters were living), the front desk staff brusquely informed us that it was NOT A HOTEL and refused to give the Sinop duo their keys on the second night. Even though between the two of them they have six beds, apparently you need "permission" from "[insert bureaucrat here]" in order to stay there. So, I ended up taking the night bus home, and the other non-Sinop visitor found a new place to stay. It didn't ruin the weekend, but it did cause a few moments of unnecessary stress. The Turkish twist.

Sinop as seen from near a cafe that is on the northernmost point in Turkey.

This is part of the Sinop harbor, where apparently cruise ships dock from time to time.


As for last weekend, I went to Eskişehir and Uşak's neighboring big-ish city, Afyonkarahisar. The Turkish twist in Eskişehir for me was that the "EsTram" there, while adorable and convenient, did not magically get me to the otogar on time, so I ended up missing my scheduled bus at 11AM, changing my ticket to the 1PM bus, taking the tram back to city center, going on a short (and awesome) gondola ride in the canal, and then immediately getting back on the tram to go to the bus station to leave. Eskişehir is the best potential site of a Fulbrighter romantic comedy, so we decided. I am slowly easing myself into bigger Turkish cities--this weekend, Antalya, perhaps next weekend, Izmir, and then maybe...Istanbul?

Look at how cute this tram is.

A beautiful mosque which I did not go in to because even though I had a scarf at hand, I did not have a female guide to prevent me from making some kind of sacrilegious mistake. Another mosque, another time.

"I just got [to Eskişehir], and I think I know why no Fulbrighter was placed here."
"Why?"
"Because it's AWESOME."

The last-second gondola ride on the canal.

I am glad for my extra 45 minutes or so in Eskişehir because it allowed me to take just enough pictures to illustrate its cuteness, which I hadn't before, spending most of my time in Kahve Dünyası (a chain here, trans. coffee world) nibbling a chocolate spoon that came with my salep (a popular drink here made from the roots of orchids). I didn't take pictures of Afyon because it was night and I mostly only ate dinner there.

But back to the Turkish twist...yesterday morning, I got to teach my first class. Of course this could not happen without some kind of scheduling malfunction! (As an aside: I actually am totally in love with the lackadaisical attitude towards class here. I realized not too long ago that the reason classes last 4 hours is that a "ten minute break" inevitably means a "25 minute break", and teachers and students come late or leave early pretty much at random, so if classes were allotted a normal amount of time, next to nothing would ever get done.)

Anyways...the twist? My class actually did not come at all, or, as I perhaps more accurately speculate, they came to class around 8:30 but left the room before I arrived at 9:40, because my Fulbright coworker and I were not shown where our classrooms were until an hour after the scheduled starting time, due to our guides needing to finish their breakfast and drink their tea first. So we taught one class together (instead of two different classes separately, but at the same time) for about two and a half hours, which was perfectly OK. I am just happy to be doing what I came here to do, and the "students" (actually mostly department heads, assistant professors, and other bigwigs) are enthusiastic and do not need too much coercion to speak. Heck, they even seemed to enjoy themselves a little bit, but I don't want to get too cocky. Eventually (inşallah!) we will know when and where we are teaching each day more than five minutes before class or at least not an hour in to the start of class.

So you're saying it's NOT about ice cream...

Recently my fellow Uşak Fulbrighter and I visited a primary school in a neighboring town. It was here that we happened upon an answer to a question that had been haunting us for days. We had been wondering...what's the deal with those chimes that play the first few bars of Für Elise at somewhat regular intervals throughout the day? Apparently, this is the sound of school bells in primary schools in Uşak. Sadly it did not herald the imminent arrival of the dondurmacı, as we had previously hoped.

Horsin' Around

This past weekend I went on my first real Turkish excursion. Where? To the Aegean, of course! More specifically, Ayvalık, Çanakkale, and Truva, the latter known to the rest of the world as Troy.

In other words, I went from this:


To this:


Ayvalık is a really neat little town. I think it would be an amazing weekend destination in warmer weather (it was incredibly windy and chilly when we were there) and has some of the best beaches in Turkey, so I'm told. Since swimming was not a possibility, my two cohorts (one was a Fulbrighter from Balıkesir) climbed Şeytan Sofrası, or Satan's Table, for some incredible views of the surrounding waters.

After this we headed to Cunda aka Alibey Island, famous for its restaurants with seafood mezes (Turkish small plates you are supposed to eat while draining a bottle of rakı over the course of several hours). My cohorts and I completely forgot to take pictures of this meal because we were so hungry. We had delicious fresh raw fish, grilled octopus, perfect olive oil, a beautiful salad, and a mouthwatering melon (and other fruits) for dessert. The food in Ayvalık and environs was my favorite part of the whole weekend.

The Turkish kahvaltı, a wondrous meal on an average day, was downright swoon-worthy at our "Butik Otel", Antikhan.


The next day we headed north to Çanakkale, famous for...

being close to Troy (it is also near Gallipoli, but that did not interest us so much). That is the horse used in the movie, which was donated to the town after filming.


This is pretty much what the site of Troy looks like. In certain areas you can see Troy I-IX, and the strata are labeled as such. One follows a roped path and reads signs in Turkish, German, or English about what you are seeing- namely, that which early would-be "archeologists" didn't accidentally ruin or purposefully steal when they were excavating.

So, even though Troy was not my favorite part of an all-too-brief coastal jaunt, I still was glad to have seen it. What kind of legendary heroes actually made their lives here? We may never truly know...


Eventually, my time came to an end in Çanakkale and I embarked on a long bus ride to my current home. I hope to visit the Aegean many more times.


ADDENDUM:
They totally let you climb inside the other fake Trojan Horse on the actual site of Troy.

Turkish Enigma Remains One More Mystery*

I found this delightfully sad blurb on a tourism website today while looking for a map of Uşak online:

Uşak itself, said to be of Seljuk origin, almost certainly stands on the site of the ancient, though not very important, Pelta. The present town, dominated by a dilapidated Byzantine citadel (Eucarpia), has few relics of the past, having been largely rebuilt in the 18th century after a fire.

PELTA, eh? Sounds a lot like...PELKA! Perhaps I have a not very important Seljuk past!



*a headline from yesterday's online edition of one of the English-language Turkish newspapers, Hurriyet

Nature's Candy

Yesterday two of my coworkers (one being the other Fulbrighter, of course) went to a neighboring town in Uşak province called Ulubey in order to see the second largest canyon in the world.

It's pretty big.

We went not really knowing what to do or expect, and as we girlishly wandered around what may or may not have been a path we happened upon two gentlemen who had helped plan ULUBEY CANYONFEST 2K10! Namely, these two men had designed the hiking routes around the canyon for said festival earlier in the year. They offered to show us the best views and then got bottles of water for each of us, so we accepted. Little did we know that this would be a two-hour long hike fraught with terror! Most of the hiking felt great, but the climbing downward after we had rested on the peak in the middle of the canyon? SHEER TERROR. Sheer like the canyon's rocky sides that we could have easily slid down...to our doom! Occasionally our guides would kick loose rocks down the slopes and laugh at our fearful moans as we watched them bounce and roll away, imagining our potentially similar fate.

That is the middle "peak" which had the terrifying downward climb, as seen from about halfway along our hiking route.


That same "peak", as seen from Usak University's Ulubey campus.

Luckily because I am not at all clumsy and the very model of grace and balance, I made it back alive. (In other words, I have no idea how I made it back alive.)
BUT! this was my reward....

A pomegranate fresh from the tree! We ate them overlooking the canyon from the restaurant where we had started our hike. Then our two guides took us back to Ulubey's main street and bought us each a loaf of Ulubey pide, since apparently it is known for its delicious bread. This is what pide looks like plain, with the incredibly scrumptious Turkish cream cheese our guides recommended putting on the bread waiting nearby.

It was a lovely Sunday afternoon (Pazar öğleden sonra). We might meet our two guides next week to see other provincial wonders in other parts of Uşak province.

Gooooool!

Readers, I have an important decision to make. Given that I am thousands of miles away from my beloved Chicago Blackhawks, I have decided that, for cultural and personal reasons, I should attempt to cultivate an interest in soccer (futbol). I do not know which of the three main Turkish soccer teams to support. I feel like I need to choose my alliance early, because I will need to follow the team to some degree in order to achieve some legitimacy with actual Turkish fans, but not so much that I get involved in a brawl outside a cafe somewhere. (Not to mention the fact that now you will know the names of the three main teams to impress all of your Turkish friends.)

In any case, back in Ankara, I had decided on Beşiktaş for a number of reasons. First, the are sponsored by two companies that make up two parts of a complete breakfast: Cola Turka and Ülker (a cookie and snack company). Second, their team colors, black and white, make for a jersey or t-shirt I might actually purchase and wear. Third, one of their players reminded me of a friend from back home. These were my selling points, and I thought I was sold....until I discovered their Facebook pages.

Now, here is a strong photoshop showing for Beşiktaş. It is downright regal. I did not find a photoshopped image of an eagle ripping apart a soccer ball in its talons like a salmon, but oh, dear readers, I have seen such images on promotional items for this team and they are a delight.


However, when I got to the underdog team, Galatasaray, I was shocked to see such exquisite artwork. If that photo included a soccer ball under a gracefully extended paw, I would be wearing the horrid red and yellow McDonald's-reminiscent colors of this team all the time. This almost changed my mind.


And finally, the favorite of most Turkish soccer fans (I believe), Fenerbahçe. From my most basic research, it seems that their "mascot" is some kind of plant. Unfortunately there are no images to share of, say, a plant growing out of half of a soccer ball or perhaps a goal completely overtaken by vines or what-have-you. Instead, just this adorably sincere blue and yellow homage to the team that someone planted (ahem) in their Farmville game on Facebook. Even though my boss is a Fenerbahçe fan, and even though this kind of soccer fandom is really something I can get behind, I don't think I'll be rooting for this team.


But, I put it to you, dear readers! If you can help me make up my mind I would greatly appreciate it. I know it goes against my U of C heritage to be trying to think about sports, but this is a cultural phenomenon I should at least be more aware of, if only to give me something to talk about in EFL classes, if I am ever allowed to teach them.






UPDATE: 27/10/2010 First of all, an English-speaking woman I met this weekend informed me that since my zodiac sign is Leo (aslan in Turkish), I must support the UltrAslans. Second, I learned that Galatasaray and fans refer to themselves as "UltrAslans", which is awesome. Third, I found out that Galatasaray has a 105-year-old woman fan. I think my choice is now clear. Sorry, Beşiktaş.