In case you were wondering, the Turkish word for "snowball" is kartopu and "snowman" is karadam.
Showing posts with label Usak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Usak. Show all posts
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Snow Problem!
I woke up to the first snow in Uşak today!
In case you were wondering, the Turkish word for "snowball" is kartopu and "snowman" is karadam.
In case you were wondering, the Turkish word for "snowball" is kartopu and "snowman" is karadam.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
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
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
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Odds and Ends
This picture has my survival kit for Turkey. This is basically all I will need to live here indefinitely. It has a small hot water heater replete with spoon, my new coffee cup for Nescafe and soup, my tea thermos on a homemade coaster, my travel spoon/fork/chopsticks from Mitsuwa, and Bratz wipes for cleanliness. I guess I didn't include my Swiss Army knife in the photo, but it is also an important travel dealie. (You can imagine it in the blank space at the bottom of the photo.) I am very, very glad I have the travel cutlery and tea thermos. They are two of the most useful things in the universe. I highly recommend everyone travel with them.
Speaking of really important things, here is the kitchen. Please note that on the right there is an additional 2L hot water heater which I bought yesterday. I take hot water very seriously. There is also a giant bag of tea and a box of sugar cubes on the table which you can't really see, but they go hand in hand with my survival kit.
Here is a photo illustrating that my sheets match my computer. They also match my coffee cup and plate.
And here is my whole bedroom, which has two beds. The rules of the building include "No visitors overnight except your mother and siblings", but after we put up quite a fight they said Fulbrighters could use the extra bed for one or two nights if the need arose. Then the landlord looked at us very angrily, suggesting we should not actually take advantage of this special permission. We shall see.
The building also has roughly 1,000,000 (bir milyon) security cameras, and at night a little old woman watches them like a soap opera ("Life's Hallways" would probably be my title for it). We have to sacrifice a bit of privacy to have a beautiful apartment, I suppose.
Uşak, A History
Uşak University is being built from the ground up, literally. The building which houses the foreign language office had no railings on some staircases on Monday, and on Tuesday a man wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit was sawing metal tubes to make the railings with no protective equipment whatsoever, sending sparks flying across the hallway towards unperturbed students and teachers. The chemistry labs have sinks and gas feeds laying on the ground in boxes waiting to be installed. One of the two access roads from Izmir Road to the campus is still gravel, and is almost unnavigable. It's incredible. The guest house, however, where we stayed for the first five nights, is complete, not to mention utterly beautiful inside. My pictures don't do it justice so you'll have to take my word on that.
Campus construction.
Uşak as a town is almost equal parts rubble and new construction (inşaat), with the currently used and maintained buildings of course in the majority. According to our department head, 30 years ago (otuz yıl önce), Uşak was a "village" of about 30,000, but there has been rapid development in the past 20 years. I have no concept of how old the buildings are or what alleyways are interesting. As it is, I can just manage to find my way back to my apartment from the grocery stores on Izmir street and/or "Compulsory Street" (Ismet Pasha Caddesi).
The lands around Uşak, in addition to being home to packs of wild dogs, are dry rolling hills. Today on the bus ride to campus we saw a herd of sheep on the side of one of the hills. It is very scenic (as one of the men who met us on Saturday said, "If you like The Nature, you will like living Uşak"), but I really miss being anchored (pun intended) by some kind of large body of water.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Four T's (Things in Turkey Take Time)
Many things have happened in the past few days since I was on a cross-country bus using free Wifis. Many things...and nothing. I'm still not teaching for confusing reasons, and our housing situation is unclear at best. These hiccups aside, here's what's been happening this week.
My fellow American and I arrived in Uşak at 4PM on Saturday (Cumartesi). Three people from the university were there to greet us, two spoke excellent English, and all were exceedingly kind and helpful. We moved our heaps of belongings into the university guest house and then went to the main street of Uşak, known sarcastically by the students as "Compulsory Street", because if you want to do anything remotely cool you will probably end up on that street. After eating delicious pide and going to a cafe with our new coworker R, we then went to the local Migross-anchored mall (it is tiny and adorable) and met our head of department for ice cream. At this point, being too fat and/or sassy to move much, we went back to the guest house...for sleep.
The next morning (or early afternoon) we took the dolmuş into town and met R at her apartment. We then proceeded to the grocery store for fixin's to made fırında patates --chicken and potatoes oven roasted with tomatoes and onions. We also made tarhana soup (apparently really popular and famous in Uşak) and hazelnut chocolate instant pudding. After this small feast, we went bowling at the aforementioned mall. There are six lanes. This is a six-lane-bowling-alley-in-the-tiny-mall kind of town.
On Monday (Pazartesi) we went to the police station with our other coworker F, and the driver for the Rektör (head of university). The driver knows everyone in town and how to navigate anything in a Fiat SUV. I wish I could keep him around all the time. In any case, two cups of tea into our residence permit application, the police officer abruptly stops and says (in Turkish of course), "There is another American from Chicago here!" He then proceeds to call her from the number in the registry, instead gets her Turkish husband, and moments later said Turkish husband is sitting in the office with us enjoying a cup of tea. He puts his wife on and she informs us she is actually from Nevada, she met her husband on the internet, and she has been living in Turkey for some time,would we like to go on a picnic sometime. Her husband then takes his phone back contentedly and shares a cigarette break with the police officer. This is how Turkey's bureaucracy stays alive.
On Tuesday (Salı), we went to the police office again to get our completed permits. They are like tiny passports just for foreigners in Turkey. We tried to open a bank account but we need tax ID numbers from Ankara, which will take time. We returned to campus with the hope of meeting the Rektör himself and maybe getting our teaching schedules, neither of which happened. However, our head of department decided to make up for it by taking us on a magical mystery tour with our coworker, R. (I don't know if I can call her a "coworker" if we have yet to do any work and do not know if we will ever work due to bureaucratic concerns, but still.) We got in our department head's car and he started off towards Izmir, begging the obvious question, "Uh...are we going to Izmir?" (Izmir'e gidiyoruz, hocam?) He said,"Oh, maybe not tonight," thereby keeping the mystery alive through awkward use of English. Eventually we ended up at a very surprising place-a Turkish truck stop.
At the truck stop/rest stop, we were treated to some of the most delicious homemade pide, grilled chicken, and grilled (whole) fish I have had in a long time on shabby tablecloths and with bent tableware. Our head of department said "No need to be polite here. I come here to rest, they know me, they care for me." Then we had three cups of tea and talked about movies and the difference between "diseased" and "deceased", and also about how American accents are the worst (good thing they're paying us to teach people to talk real 'merican!) Then we drove back to Uşak towne and went to a cafe to play backgammon (super popular in cafes here). Then, more sleep.
On Wednesday (çarşamba), we finally met the Rektör and had a trilingual conversation with him. We mostly spoke French, but sometimes English and Turkish would slip in on all our parts. Basically it was the best conversation I've ever had (maybe not content-wise, but, you know, details). Our housing problem was somewhat solved as a result of this meeting, but I am still wary of unpacking lest our situation change again. We shall see.
More details on all of this forthcoming. My internet situation is shaky at times so I haven't been blogging much. I will post pics of Uşak U as well. Until then!
My fellow American and I arrived in Uşak at 4PM on Saturday (Cumartesi). Three people from the university were there to greet us, two spoke excellent English, and all were exceedingly kind and helpful. We moved our heaps of belongings into the university guest house and then went to the main street of Uşak, known sarcastically by the students as "Compulsory Street", because if you want to do anything remotely cool you will probably end up on that street. After eating delicious pide and going to a cafe with our new coworker R, we then went to the local Migross-anchored mall (it is tiny and adorable) and met our head of department for ice cream. At this point, being too fat and/or sassy to move much, we went back to the guest house...for sleep.
The next morning (or early afternoon) we took the dolmuş into town and met R at her apartment. We then proceeded to the grocery store for fixin's to made fırında patates --chicken and potatoes oven roasted with tomatoes and onions. We also made tarhana soup (apparently really popular and famous in Uşak) and hazelnut chocolate instant pudding. After this small feast, we went bowling at the aforementioned mall. There are six lanes. This is a six-lane-bowling-alley-in-the-tiny-mall kind of town.
On Monday (Pazartesi) we went to the police station with our other coworker F, and the driver for the Rektör (head of university). The driver knows everyone in town and how to navigate anything in a Fiat SUV. I wish I could keep him around all the time. In any case, two cups of tea into our residence permit application, the police officer abruptly stops and says (in Turkish of course), "There is another American from Chicago here!" He then proceeds to call her from the number in the registry, instead gets her Turkish husband, and moments later said Turkish husband is sitting in the office with us enjoying a cup of tea. He puts his wife on and she informs us she is actually from Nevada, she met her husband on the internet, and she has been living in Turkey for some time,would we like to go on a picnic sometime. Her husband then takes his phone back contentedly and shares a cigarette break with the police officer. This is how Turkey's bureaucracy stays alive.
On Tuesday (Salı), we went to the police office again to get our completed permits. They are like tiny passports just for foreigners in Turkey. We tried to open a bank account but we need tax ID numbers from Ankara, which will take time. We returned to campus with the hope of meeting the Rektör himself and maybe getting our teaching schedules, neither of which happened. However, our head of department decided to make up for it by taking us on a magical mystery tour with our coworker, R. (I don't know if I can call her a "coworker" if we have yet to do any work and do not know if we will ever work due to bureaucratic concerns, but still.) We got in our department head's car and he started off towards Izmir, begging the obvious question, "Uh...are we going to Izmir?" (Izmir'e gidiyoruz, hocam?) He said,"Oh, maybe not tonight," thereby keeping the mystery alive through awkward use of English. Eventually we ended up at a very surprising place-a Turkish truck stop.
At the truck stop/rest stop, we were treated to some of the most delicious homemade pide, grilled chicken, and grilled (whole) fish I have had in a long time on shabby tablecloths and with bent tableware. Our head of department said "No need to be polite here. I come here to rest, they know me, they care for me." Then we had three cups of tea and talked about movies and the difference between "diseased" and "deceased", and also about how American accents are the worst (good thing they're paying us to teach people to talk real 'merican!) Then we drove back to Uşak towne and went to a cafe to play backgammon (super popular in cafes here). Then, more sleep.
On Wednesday (çarşamba), we finally met the Rektör and had a trilingual conversation with him. We mostly spoke French, but sometimes English and Turkish would slip in on all our parts. Basically it was the best conversation I've ever had (maybe not content-wise, but, you know, details). Our housing problem was somewhat solved as a result of this meeting, but I am still wary of unpacking lest our situation change again. We shall see.
More details on all of this forthcoming. My internet situation is shaky at times so I haven't been blogging much. I will post pics of Uşak U as well. Until then!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)