The End?

Hey! 

I leave for the airport in 30 minutes, and will be back in the states TONIGHT. This summer has gone by really fast. I learned a lot of Turkish, met a lot of people, but I honestly cannot wait to get home. My life is going to get a lot more complicated when I arrive, so I wanted to get this post done before then. 

Wednesday night was awesome. We went to "İmroz," a meyhane (bar/restaurant that serves mostly rakı and mezze) that is run by a Greek family. We each paid 50 TL for all you can eat and drink. I had so much feta cheese, bread, calamari, salad, and rakı. I sat across from one of the other professors from our program named Özlem Hanım, and chatted with her. She was hilarious and matching us drink for drink. I also met a nice Turkish woman who will be applying to grad school at my school in the spring. I chatted with the TWO KADIRS (2006 people know them well) for about 2 hours that night, about everything. They are so friendly. I sent 2. Kadir Generation Kill to watch, and 1. Kadir will be at Purdue for the next 5 years for a PhD in Linguistics (Turkish Sign Language). So I will hopefully see him again soon. My last cab ride here was with the fattest cabby I have seen so far in this country. He had to recline his seat to accommodate his mass. I got us the standard 15 TL daytime rate back, and we all slept really well. 

Yesterday I woke up, went to the Boğaziçi store to get some stuff, and ran into 1. Kadir on the way back. We had breakfast and chatted about life in America, and what he can expect. Then I went down to the old city for the last time to check out the Archeology Museum with Michael, Laura, and Lauren. They had a really cool exhibit that showed stuff they have found in the last couple of years while working on the subway system. They found a whole ship from 1100, intact, buried in the ground. Evidence of the old Byzantine port here. Michael left us there because he had a train to catch at 10pm to Bulgaria, where he will begin his long journey to Vienna. I parted ways with the girls at Kabataş because I needed to go get some stuff at Akmerkez. We all spent a few hours packing up, and then went to the Petek, that fancy view near campus, one last time to hang out and have snacks and beers. There were some street dogs there that made me nervous, so I gave them my börek far away from where we were sitting. A Turkish couple (students) sat across from us and offered us some of their food. They were playing music on their laptop: REM, RHCP, and other American stuff. We all headed back around 12:30am and said our goodbyes to Hannah, who had to catch a 6am flight. I am going to miss her, she is hilarious. Anyway, right now I am finalizing the suitcase situation. I just had tea and chatted with the gatekeeper, Hakan, for about an hour. The bus gets here in 30 minutes. I have about 12 hours of flying to do today. Time travel, really. It makes my head spin. Anyway, I look forward to seeing you all again soon! I'll miss Istanbul, but not as much as I miss my family. I can't wait to get back! Love you guys! 

Done!

Hey folks,

So I just took my proficiency exam, and am now officially done with everything here. Waiting until Friday to fly home, and I can't wait to get back. 

Saturday night's boat trip was pretty epic. It was a mustache themed party, and the girls who organized it actually got enough fake mustaches for everyone. There were some really, really good ones. Our boat bumped a multi-million dollar yacht as we were leaving the pier, and the respective captains exchanged profanities and hand gestures for a while. We traveled as far south as the Arnavutköy Camii, and then kind of looped around between the two bridges thereafter. The boat was big enough for 30 people to dance closely with one another, and the crew was friendly and chatty. Everyone brought their own drinks and snacks, so the boat was full of beer, wine, rakı, and chips. Everyone had a great time, by the looks of the pictures. We must have looked pretty fucking weird to the folks hanging out in Bebek when we got off the boat in fake mustaches and drunkenness at 2:00am. We all walked to the waffle place and got delicious Turkish waffles full of bananas, kiwis, strawberries, caramel, etc. etc. Then we all got into cabs and went back to campus to sit on the lawn and hang out/drink some more. 

I was really surprised to see so many kids out and about on campus as late as it was. We sat on the lawn, playing with cats and speaking Turkish until 4:45am. There were still people outside playing volleyball or something when we left. I spent a good amount of time trying to locate the source of this mewing that heard in the bush next to me. I found the cutest goddamn kitten ever, but the bastard was too quick for me and kept escaping back into the bushes. Again, fun was had by all. Sunday consisted of sitting around, finishing Generation Kill (amazing!), and working on my final paper. Great success. 

Monday was the last day of classes, yesterday was the final exam, and today was the proficiency exam. I presume I did decently enough on each. It's like Enya says, "Only Time." Yesterday after class I went to the Kapalıçarşı to try and get gifts for people. I failed. I dunno. I just feel like that stuff is cheesy now. Who knows. I will probably go back tomorrow. Argh. BUT I did succeed in getting myself another pair of linen pants that I can actually wear outside the house. They are tan. I will be covertly comfortable at all times. We stopped by Güllüoğlu, the really tasty bakery, on the way back and the guy was really friendly and let us try stuff and gave us a bargain on some baklava, so we bought a pound and promptly ate it. Last night we hung out and watched 2 hours of Arrested Development and a half-hour long documentary called "Tabu" made by some kid from Boğaziçi. It was really interesting. The guy made cards for the game "Taboo" that said stuff like "Kurdish problem," "Armenian Genocide," and "homosexuality" on them, and videotaped a few groups of students playing the game with them. I will try and get it on my computer so some of you can see it. Then we started talking/arguing about religion, and I went to bed. No sense in it, I already have all the answers to my religious questions. 

We gave all our teachers flowers and cards today, and I realized that I am really going to miss Sabahat Hanım. She is so awesome. I will have to write her a postcard from time to time. 

Now it is time to nap and get ready for the blowout party tonight at some big dinner/drink hall where one of the other teachers will be singing. Should be fun! 

See you all soon.

Sweating, Prostitutes, and Rakı

Hey all,

So Thursday night a few of us went out to Taksim to get some eating and drinking and dancing done. We started out at this cool place that probably seated 30 people total, and was on the top of a building. I met a very cute Turkish girl who is a friend of a friend here, and we all went out dancing at Araf after we ate. The music there is so great. They played one song that was hilarious, and that I had never heard before. I think it was from the 90s...This is it. The Turkish girl kept touching my thigh at dinner when she would talk to me. It was weird. I didn't read anything into it; I think they do that instead of touching arms here. But it was a bit odd, nonetheless. Because one of our TAs was with us, we tried to speak Turkish for most of the night, which is always a lot of fun. We stayed out until almost 3:00am, sweating like animals on the dance floor. 

Friday was our last day of Reading and Writing classes, and that night we were invited to Sabahat Hanım's house for dinner. She lives near Akmerkez in a nice little apartment. Asuman made us more mercimek köftesi, and there was a lot of food. We sat around for a few hours just chatting. Our grammar professor also came by. Sabahat Hanım told us that she used to live in Taksim, until about 8 years ago. Her neighborhood was full of gays and prostitutes, she said. Her neighbors were prostitutes, and so were a lot of her friends there. She is such a badass. She doesn't drink anymore, because she said she used to drink 2 "things" of whiskey a day. I think "things" meant like quadruple shots of whiskey. Clearly, she is an academic. She is probably the most adorable old lady ever, too. And she called me "oğlum" (my son) when we were leaving. 

After we all left, around 10:00pm, the group headed to Taksim on the bus. I met up with Mert and his friend Ege, and Sydney and her friend, and the five of us headed to a meyhane to listen to some live Roma music and drink rakı. Before we left the meeting place, though, a crazy guy came up to us and started complaining about the Arab women in çarşaflar (whatever they call it in Arabic, the whole-body veil). I could barely understand him, but he kept pointing to my beard and Ege's beard. Then we hit up the meyhane. It was awesome. The darbuka player was nuts. I don't know how he didn't get exhausted after like 10 minutes of playing as fast as he was. There were, naturally, a few very attractive Turkish girls there, so I married all of them. 

Sydney and I tried to meet up with people from our other group after Mert and Ege left (Mert had a final today at 9am, but stayed out until 2:30am with us...hero), but couldn't get ahold of them until it was too late, and we had bought some beers and were in the cab heading home. Our cab driver turned out to be really chatty. When I asked if we could get the daytime rate to Rümelihısarüstü, he said "What an İstanbullite you are!" And from then on we chatted about all kinds of stuff, and the topic eventually came to what a "Turk" really is. He agreed that there is no such thing as a "pure Turk," because everyone has ancestors from outside the country. Then he started quoting the Koran and saying that God made the different nations so that they might know each other. This is also great and pleasant. Then as we got near our dorm he started talking about how "çingeneler ve yahudiler" ("Gypsies and Jews") commit crimes because their ancestors were incestuous. I suggested that Roma and Jews have been oppressed for centuries, and that if anyone commits crimes, it has nothing to do with race and everything to do with their living conditions. And also I said that we (meaning Sydney, myself, and by extension, the USA) try to avoid such racism as much as possible. 

It really, really upsets me when otherwise reasonable Turks pull out this racist shit toward the Roma and Jews. As if they have ever even met a Jew in the first place. Their grandparents, great grandparents surely did, because there used to be a LOT of them in Istanbul and "Turkey" more generally. The Ottomans even accepted the Jews from Spain readily after the Reconquista. Everyone here loves fucking conspiracy theories, and I think when this combines with less than tolerant political discourse from far-right nationalist parties, people are far too eager to equate Israeli political and military policy with Judaism. They don't do that with Americans, at least not when they meet one. As for the Roma, I think that racism is more akin to the anti-black racism in the USA, because people here see Roma as committing a disproportionate amount of crime, and instead of trying to empathize with the struggle of those live in awful conditions, they immediately attribute the crime rate to race or ethnicity. Far be it from me to claim that the USA isn't racist, but I would be shocked to find a cab driver that would be that openly racist. The worst part was, our cab driver was an educated man. He had friends in other countries. Oh well. Can't win every battle. 

Today I had my old Akbil confiscated and was given a new one because the guy at the Akbil stand put the wrong amount on it. That made me sad, but hey, at least I have an Akbil still. 

Tonight I am going on a party cruise with a lot of kids from my program. It should be fun and relaxing. More to come as it develops. 

Aya Sofya and the Curious Barber

Hey guys, sorry it has been a while.

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! 

The Sickness Passes

Feeling better, at least in terms of the guts.

Woke up at 9:00am, and decided to take advantage of the extra bit of the day provided to me by the sickness of the day before, so I showered and headed out to the Kariye Museum, which is located at Edirnekapı, one of the ancient entrances to old Constantinople. There are still huge walls that cut the old city peninsula off from the mainland, but now they are perforated by broad avenues and cart paths. I took the 28 bus from Beşiktaş, which was probably the oldest public transit vehicle I have ever been in. It had a hard time going faster than 30mph. I rode it to the end of the line, Edirnekapı, and when I got out, asked an elderly gent from my bus if he knew how to get to the museum. He told me to come with him, so I did. We walked a few blocks, and he gestured with his hands, tapping his left arm and pointing, probably forgetting that I had asked him in Turkish. So I asked if he meant I should turn left, and he smiled and said yeah. 

It was no problem finding it after that. The place was gorgeous and perfectly sized for the type of museum it was. I handed the ticket booth attendant my paper Müze Kart and student ID so she could print out my ticket, but instead she gave me my ID back with a PLASTIC, OFFICIAL Müze Kart. It was incredible. These are not given to foreigners. It means free access to museums all throughout Turkey for one full year. It has my picture on it and everything. So for me, this is a huge coup. It means I get into Aya Sofya for free. Some people have to pay up to 20 TL. Suckers. Kariye was absolutely gorgeous, it was quiet, in a quiet neighborhood, and full of the best mosaics I think I have seen. They weren't in as good condition as those at Fethiye, but that was because the Ottomans covered up the human images with plaster, which had to be carefully removed by restorers in the 1960s, I think. Pretty sure they left Fethiye alone. I wandered around the place, taking photos and enjoying the shade but sweating, literally, like a whore in church.

I left after about a half an hour, and decided to walk along the city walls a bit. They really are huge. They are 30+ feet high in many places, and clearly must have been really frustrating to anyone who wanted to get in, friendly or not. I saw a kid flying a kite next to the Hadrian Gate (Edirnekapı), and saw a man holding a small box with some holes in it. The box was moving in his arms. I kept walking. Then I saw another man with a box, similar in size and with holes. Then another. And then a man with no box. In his arms was a rooster. I walked a bit further, and found the source: I had stumbled across a chicken bazaar. It was clearly a Sunday-only deal. Men trotted out their best chickens for sale, and each was tied by one foot with string to a larger piece of fabric stretched along the ground. There were also ducks. People were talking about them, how great they were, how much they would cost, and also telling kids not to torment them. I was probably the only foreigner within a considerable distance, and must have looked so confused. A live chicken market? Next to Constantinople's walls? What?

I decided to leave before I ended up buying one and bringing it back to Superdorm, and walked a ways until I caught a bus to Eminönü, the area near the Galata Bridge. I then caught the tram back up the hill to the Kapalıçarşı (literally, the Covered/Closed Bazaar, but we call it the Grand Bazaar!), only to find out that the Grand Bazaar is closed on Sunday, which in Turkish is called "Pazar Günu," or "Bazaar Day." The irony is lost on them. I asked an old man sitting by one of the entrances if the bazaar was really closed, and he said yes. And then I came back with a zinger the likes of which Turkey has never seen: "Well then," I said, "I guess this really is a kapalı çarşı!" HA!!! He laughed, I laughed, until our eyes were red from tears, and the sun had long since set. 

I was going to go to the Aya Sofya but I started to feel like crap again, so I took the tram back to Kabataş and then hopped the bus back to Superdorm. Sunday was hot. I really don't know how all these women here manage to wear headscarves and trenchcoats in this weather, but if they are that committed to it, imagine how well they would do if Turkey would let them wear them at universities. 

Some randomness.

Today a girl in my class said "the waitress threw feces" when she meant to say "the waitress laughed." They are amazingly close. 

I learned today that in Japan, old folks complain about young rock and roll music types sitting on the floor of subway cars rather than in the seats. Rough stuff.

My friend Jill just told me, as we ate ice cream down the road, that her family is intensely related to the show "The Wire." Her dad is portrayed in season five, and worked for the Baltimore Sun, where he originally hired David Simon. Her brother? Script supervisor for the series. Ed Burns? Taught at her high school and suggested she go to Brown, which she did. INCREDIBLE.

Anyway, that is what is up now. Important day in my life for a number of reasons.

Castles, and Puking on Them: My Weekend

Well, I can tell you right now that I am well rested.

Friday after class, instead of our normal conversation hour, we all went down to Ortaköy and ate some kumpir on the rooftop of a moderately priced restaurant. Kumpir, for those who haven't heard me rave about it before, is the Turks' take on the baked potato. They actually scoop out the contents, mix them with cheese and butter, and put them back in before loading it up with anything and everything you'd want. I had olives, olive spread, beet sauce, and much, much more. They gave us all order sheets, like at a sushi restaurant, where we would check off the stuff we wanted. In the name box I wrote "Cihangir," instead of Kevin. Cihangir is easily the most kickass Turkish name, apart from Ayhan (Lord of the Moon), because it means, quite simply, "Conqueror of the World." When we handed the waiter our slips, he looked through them and asked "Who is Cihangir?" I said "I am. Nice to meet you." He laughed and shook his head, and did the same when he handed me my potato. My guess is that it's not really a common name, but rather reserved for those in history who have actually conquered the world. 

My bad.

After lunch we walked to Beşiktaş to sit and chat on the sixth floor of a cafe overlooking the main drag in the neighborhood. We had cherry mixed with bubble gum-flavored tobacco, and it was really nice. While there, I learned a children's rhyme that you can say for no reason. It's more of a play on people's names, except it means "Lord (Name) shit on the rock, and the rock broke from end to end." Pretty classy. The Turks have a thing for shits breaking rocks. They have a saying for a big shit that translates as "cracking the marble." In other news, this morning I saw an elderly man pissing in plain sight as I rode past Dolmabahçe Palace on the bus. I wonder if anyone said anything to him, or if that is just another privilege you get here upon retiring, like getting a seat on the bus. 

Friday night we all stayed in and watched that shitty "Ottoman Republic" movie again. It was just as bad the second time, but I caught more of the dialogue in the absence of the bus engine's noise. After the movie, at around 9:00pm, someone rang the doorbell on my friend Ryan's apartment. It was a man, probably in his 40s, American, and looking generally concerned. I immediately asked if he wanted us to keep it down (we were laughing pretty hard at the movie), and he said yes, but also that he wanted whomever had vomited out their window and into his living room below to never do it again. Wow. When Ryan and I closed the door, we turned and looked at his roommate, who was sitting on the couch. 

Me, to Ryan's roommate: "What the fuck did you do last night? Did you puke into that man's living room?"

Roommate: "No!"

Ryan: "What did you do last night?"

Roommate: "I passed out on this couch." NOTE: COUCH IS RIGHT NEXT TO THE WINDOW.

Me: "Is it really a stretch to believe you stood up and vomited out the window?"

Roommate: "I have no memory of doing it."

Ryan: "You just said you passed out."

Roommate: "I also don't remember the cab ride home..."

Ryan: "You are fucking getting them some nice baklava. Tomorrow."

That was the extent of Friday night. We then went upstairs to the girls' rooms and chatted, and eventually ordered some mantı, that tasty Turkish lasagna stuff. It's pretty heavy food, and I felt like it was a bad idea as soon as I started eating it. Forgetting that, I went to bed and set my alarm for 8:00am, so that I could make the ARIT boat trip in the morning.

By the time we got down to Bebek to meet our boat, I was feeling like a piece of shit that could crack the marble. I couldn't tell which way the catastrophe was coming, only that it was. We boarded the boats, and made our way north up the Bosphorus toward Yoros Castle, aka The Genoese Castle (MISNOMER!). The boat ride actually helped a lot, as the movement of the boat on the water was really soothing. Our boat came dangerously close to hitting a huge tanker, but hey, the captain must be a professional, right? We docked at Anadolu Kavağı and began the torturous ascent to the castle, which sits on a hilltop many hundreds of feet above the straits. The weather wasn't as hot as it could have been, but the walk, which was probably a mile long and up a slope that even cars have a hard time with. Needless to say, when we got to the top, I wasn't feeling like standing in the sunlight with the rest of the group while our guide explained the design of the place and its history. I could hear just fine from the shadows with the stray dogs sitting near me on the ground. I stayed there after they all went into the castle, and pretended to be fiddling with my camera while other Turks passed by, so they didn't think I was a fucking creep. Then I summoned the strength to get up, walked into the castle, sat near the group again, walked a bit more, and then made my retreat. I noticed yesterday that right before I am about to vomit with 100% certainty, my salivary glands go into overdrive. So once I felt that, I knew I was in trouble.

I made a move toward the exit and huddled down next to the wall in a place with a gorgeous view of the Black Sea and the mouth of the Bosphorus, and proceeded to violently empty the contents of my stomach beside a castle built almost a thousand years ago out of stones first carved 2200 years ago.

This was my view.

The good news, though, is that I felt a lot better afterwards. Well enough to joke about it, even! Har har har. Right after puking, while I was washing my mouth out with water, a Turkish guy walked through the tiny hole in the wall to enter the castle, and left his cooler outside. I grabbed it and handed it to him through the hole. When I came through, he said "I thought you were a foreigner," to which I replied "But I am a foreigner!" And then we chatted for a bit about what the hell I was doing there, of all places. I met up with the group again and we headed down the hill, and I was all happy about how great I was feeling after erupting, Pompeii style, on the castle grounds. 

This turned out to be a mistake, and I am certain that Zeus, whose temple remains were used to build the castle, must have heard me boasting about how it wasn't so bad, because after we boated a bit further up the straits to our lunch location, I almost immediately ran to the bathroom and did a low-budget sequel to the smash hit original release. It was the worst meal of my life. I had to sit there, miserable, and watch people eat and drink for two hours. I tried to sleep, but couldn't, and then it started to rain. I was waiting for a dog to bite me, or a midget to kick me in the shins. Fortunately that didn't happen, and as soon as we got the signal to go, I hustled as fast as my now-weak legs could carry me back to the boat and promptly fell asleep in the hold. I stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, sleeping, with one brief interval in which ARIT Director Dr. Greenwood and I chatted about "Ice Truckers" and "Deadliest Catch." Then he and the Byzantine expert professor from Penn told me about some of the cooler shipping disasters to befall the Bosphorus in their lifetimes, the majority of which have been spent in the city. 

After we arrived, I got off and immediately started recruiting folks for a cab back home. Then one of the ship-children said they found keys, which were mine, and fortunately tossed them to me from the boat. Last time I was here, there was some concern that I had forgotten my iPod onboard. What the hell is wrong with me? Ryan and I cabbed it back (which reminds me, I owe him money) and I immediately went to bed. It was 5:00pm. I woke up today at 9:00am. I will finish the tale later, but suffice it to say, I feel a lot better after 16 hours' sleep.

We Did It! We Solved the Problems!

Hey all! 

I just got back from a screening of "The Passenger" (1975), starring Jack Nicholson and Maria Schneider. It was amazing. Don't expect a lot of action, dialogue, or exposition. Just a really nicely paced, slow, beautifully shot film about escaping. I really liked it, and would like to own it. 

Today was pretty great. It was Easy Thursday, meaning we had grammar, listening lab, and speaking classes. In the lab, we listened to a song by the composer Züflü Livaneli, and watched an interview with him. I know this guy's books. We've read two of them in Turkish at Georgetown. He is kind of pop-ish, but he writes really well and it's easy enough to read that I don't need a dictionary for every single paragraph. Today in speaking class we had a two hour discussion on minorities of all sorts. My teacher taught us how to say "shove it up your ass," which I will teach you right now:

"Götüne sok!" 

We also talked about economic, political, sexual, and ethnic minorities. We solved all of Turkey's problems in literally two hours. We are awesome. Lunch today at the Urfam Lahmacun place was soup and a lahmacun. Afterwards we had a lecture about Dede Korkut, the Oghuz Turkic literary hero and man of legend. His stories date back to between the 13th and 15th centuries, and according to what I have read, have their roots in the much older Alpamysh epic, which is found among Turkic peoples from Siberia to Turkmenistan. This bad boy is 14,000 verses long, and people would memorize it. And this one is still not longer than the Kyrgyz Manas, which is 500,000 lines long. These guys know how to sit and listen.

The lecturer talked about the similarities between the Dede Korkut stories that emerged later and the pre-existing Greek mythologies. There is a story about a cyclops, which many believe actually predates both stories, and there is a story about going to the underworld to reclaim a soul that resembles a Greek story very closely. I asked the professor afterwards if he knew of any versions that have the Turkish and old Turkic parallel translation, but unfortunately there isn't one. I bet if I wrote it, it would sell a billion copies. But no matter, my friend Ryan found it in the original Turkic online, and also found a kickass website for all things Turkic, including mp3s of people singing the old Central Asian epics, like the Alpamysh. I have been listening to a Kazakh bard sing it for an hour and a half now. It is fantastic. I can pick up some words here and there, like the words for horse, woman, bride, and my.

Dinner was at the other Urfam place, owned by the same people and located right across the street. We call this one the "nice" place, because they give you better free shit and have kebabs. I got the eggplant salad and a soup. It was so fucking good. It will take some adjustment to get used to not having eggplant ready for me wherever I go, but in its place we have burritos, so...

Oh, so further proof that the Turks are insane drivers. First off, they always seem to drive toward you if you are in the street for any reasons. That must be clear otherwise what I tell you next will make no sense. I guess this is just as much proof that they are insane as it is that they don't care about animals as much as you'd like to think they do. As we were walking to the movie, meaning down the hill to campus, there was a dog on the SIDE of the road. A delivery guy on a moped was coming down the hill, slowed down, and actually tried to hit the dog with his scooter until it got off the road. Fact. Also, the rich people here are horrible to their cars. They grind clutches, squeal tires, slam brakes, and do it to their Mercedes, Land Rovers, and Maseratis. Even taking a turn at 15 mph is too much for some people. I honestly have no clue how people survive the roads on a daily basis, especially when you consider that the bus drivers routinely do not give a fuck about anything. 

Anyway, the moral of this story is that Jack Nich0lson kicks ass, and Dede Korkut knows how to use the internet. I am coming home in exactly 2 weeks. I am excited but will miss this place, as can be expected. I am working on a "Turkey Bucket List" of shit to get done before I go. Let me know if you think of anything. Saturday is the big ARIT boat trip!!