Just one more day of classes, and I will be back in DC Friday night and then off to Cincinnati the next morning.
Tuesday I went with Jessica down to the Ottoman Archives to help her apply for a research permit. She just started learning Turkish this summer, so needed someone to translate for her. We took the bus and tram down to Gülhane and hopped off. The gate was guarded by three cops with submachine guns, like every other goddamned building in this city. Cops with machine guys are everywhere, and they always hold the guns with their finger really, really close to the trigger, or just down at their side, which would make it all to easy for an enterprising thief to steal one. Anyway, these cops were very friendly and helpful despite all appearances. I told them we had her shit, and needed the building where we should take it. It was really close. The archive grounds are really calm and quiet, which is odd considering it is right in the middle of the busiest tourist district in the city. We walked into the research salon lobby, and I again explained that we had her "documents" in order. They then walked us to the building next door, and we were in business. I really like getting to say "documents" in everyday conversation. It's badass. I recommend trying it.
The woman working in the permit office was incredibly nice and helpful. She and I discussed Jessica's form and she suggested that she change some of the phrasing on it to make it broader. So in effect, it massively expanded Jessica's research capabilities. She can now access any of the Ottoman maps they have in their collection, and any of the documents pertaining to Balkan policy, or economic policy. That is a shit ton of stuff. And on top of all that, she got her ID made right then and there, and could use it that day, after about an hour.
In that hour we decided to head up to the Aya Sofya (Hagia Sophia). It was crowded, but I have my Müze Kart, which I used here with great success. The guards out front were telling tourists that the long line to the right was for Müze Karts, which are "for Turkish only." Ha! If only they knew. I snuck past the peasant line and walked right up to the turn-style with my card, swipe it, and was in. It saved me 20 TL. Some tour guides approached us and thought we were Russian, and then French, and they said to each other "oh, he knows Turkish" because I had said "Evet" and "Hayır" (yes and no). So I turned to them and said "My Turkish is actually pretty decent." Then they saw my museum card and said "you must be Turkish if you have one of those." Damn straight.
Aya Sofya never ceases to amaze. It is so fucking huge. You could park a hundred brontosaurs in it. There was still scaffolding there, since they are working on the dome. I love that place. Probably the coolest building in the world. They have huge nets spread over the main doorways to keep birds from flying in, but I think it would be better to just hire an 80 year old Korean War veteran (thousands of Turks fought in Korea for the UN) and have him post up with a rifle next to the entrance and shoot the birds out of the sky as they flew past. He should have a mustache and swear almost constantly. We wandered around for about an hour, and managed to find the Viking graffiti this time. Last time I was here I didn't see it. It is pretty badass. They carved it either in the 700s or 900s. Just their names. I love how nothing changes. The mosaics are beautiful, as is expected. One tourist girl, probably English or American, said "It's soooo shiny!" What the fuck do you expect? It's made of fucking gold. GOLD.
After the Aya Sofya, we parted ways and I headed back to campus while Jessica researched. On the tram there was a heavyset man with a fascist nationalist mustache standing next to me. He was breathing heavily, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was angry at me for having a leftist beard or because he was just fat-sighing.
Wednesday was haircut day! I got a TON cut off. Probably too much. Also he trimmed by beard SUPER short. I actually kind of like it this way. It is handsome, the beard. It's weird not having a mustache long enough to grab with my lower lip, though. I miss my cookie duster. Now, I can't get food out of my mustache without looking like a pervert, whereas before I didn't have to stick my tongue out so far to reach it. Sleazeball. My barber was really friendly. We chatted the whole time, and it turns out he is really interested in America and health insurance reform. Also he wants to cut hair there. He was proud of the fact that Turkish barbers tend not to rely too heavily on the trimmers and use scissors instead, and that they talk to their customers. We talked about wages, living costs, all kinds of stuff. At first, he said, he thought my hair was dyed. He and I are going to be Facebook friends.
That night I headed to Istiklal with Sydney and Allison to look for a kemençe, or Black Sea Fiddle, for Sydney. We also wandered from store to store looking for a t-shirt we had heard about featuring a hippo and the phrase "THINK AGAIN." We couldn't find it for the life of us, but ultimately called a friend who had seen it and found it. It only came in girls' sizes, which sucks. But the good news was that we found a really nice little shop that sold kemençes and we talked to the guys for a while. They cut her a great deal, and offered us tea, and even went to a different store to get her a traveling case. I, on the other hand, spent $20 on a really small, but effective, darbuka. It will fit in my suitcase! I am pumped to bug the hell out of my neighbors with it. I got some Patatas french fries with BBQ and mayo for dinner, because I am on a diet.
I need to get ready to go to a dinner party at my reading professor's house now, so I will get caught up entirely tomorrow afternoon. Have a great Friday!
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