We were driving home today and decided to visit part of my school's land. I heard there was a lake down this road, and I was in for a shock.
It was like a door into another world.
There was a sign and a road next to the TV station. We traveled down this road with trees on one side and the company complex on the other. And then, we broke through the hump in the hill to the hills of Anatolia. There's no plain that I've seen. Our road rested on a ridge of a hill that gradually let us down. We could see deep valleys on either side and the big lake at the bottom.
Some houses and some shanties were scattered along the valley. I will have to go back with a camera because it always is too much to take in with my eyes. It's never what i expect: A beautiful concrete mansion with peach trees and a concrete fence and wire running around the perimeter. A shed with a concrete fence running around the perimeter. A wire fence with some chickens and turkeys. A go-cart track. A chalet-type house. An American style house complete with a front porch. Some men standing by their vehicle, eating, watching their cows forage through the grass and garbage in the area. A wood and tin shack built on the hill in a space dug out against the hill like you would if you were camping and hiking through the same area.
I had an school ID card to get into the private lake area, it was the first time we tried it, and we were a little surprised it worked as the school is pretty strict about the IDs. We travelled around the lake stopping at an old ottoman house for tea alongside the lake.
It smelled like Minnesota.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
a drive around Ankara
Tolga came home today. He was in Elazig, and he needed a ride. I offered to drive his truck to the airport. I haven't really driven here, except on longer trips. Mostly because his truck is a company truck. A black Mitsubishi L200 crew cab. Neither of us really thought much about the vehicle in the beginning other than gratefulness for a trustworthy vehicle and gas to put in the tank.
The truck has since grown on us. It drives so smoothly. Four-wheel drive low and high for bad snows and steep hills on rainy days. I was ready to take it for drive on the outskirts of Ankara. I got home from my bus service and picked up my Anne to come with me.
It really was my first time driving on my own - my mother-in-law doesn't count because it turned out she was useless for reading directions, signs, etc. It was enough to have her in the car anyhow. It's odd how highway signs can be so foreign too. There's lots of letters to take in and remember. And not always signs. And the hills are just so steep, it's really amazing (and comforting to be in a sound vehicle).
I had to remember to stay alert as if I were driving a motorbike. Who knows when a light would turn red, a car would turn in or out, or something would collapse next to the road.
It was only a few kilometers before we were outside the city, which is surprising as the population in over four million, and we live near the city "center". The landscape outside of the city is barren hills of green, scattered with sheep, clustered with village and apartment housing, and ridges cut deeply by ravines.
I am also tempted to walk out of out home and just start hiking - heading out over one of the ridges. I think this fantasy was born out of the book "Where the Red Fern Grows" - I was so impressed the boy could travel through the forest for three days and get to his destination.
I tried myself once in Minnesota. I tried to "rough" it from our house to my Farm Grandma's. Cutting through the field was too easy, so in order to make it more a challenge I went down our back hill trying to head though some woods.
It didn't work out like the book. 1) I didn't have a hunting dog and I really didn't want to come across any animals. 2) My sense of direction, no matter how hard I pretended, couldn't convince me I was deep in some unknown woods - I knew exactly where the road was. And 3) It wasn't that cool - the brush, sticks, and briars made it difficult and ugly.
But, I still can't help wanting to just hike in a direction with a compass for a few days . . .
The truck has since grown on us. It drives so smoothly. Four-wheel drive low and high for bad snows and steep hills on rainy days. I was ready to take it for drive on the outskirts of Ankara. I got home from my bus service and picked up my Anne to come with me.
It really was my first time driving on my own - my mother-in-law doesn't count because it turned out she was useless for reading directions, signs, etc. It was enough to have her in the car anyhow. It's odd how highway signs can be so foreign too. There's lots of letters to take in and remember. And not always signs. And the hills are just so steep, it's really amazing (and comforting to be in a sound vehicle).
I had to remember to stay alert as if I were driving a motorbike. Who knows when a light would turn red, a car would turn in or out, or something would collapse next to the road.
It was only a few kilometers before we were outside the city, which is surprising as the population in over four million, and we live near the city "center". The landscape outside of the city is barren hills of green, scattered with sheep, clustered with village and apartment housing, and ridges cut deeply by ravines.
I am also tempted to walk out of out home and just start hiking - heading out over one of the ridges. I think this fantasy was born out of the book "Where the Red Fern Grows" - I was so impressed the boy could travel through the forest for three days and get to his destination.
I tried myself once in Minnesota. I tried to "rough" it from our house to my Farm Grandma's. Cutting through the field was too easy, so in order to make it more a challenge I went down our back hill trying to head though some woods.
It didn't work out like the book. 1) I didn't have a hunting dog and I really didn't want to come across any animals. 2) My sense of direction, no matter how hard I pretended, couldn't convince me I was deep in some unknown woods - I knew exactly where the road was. And 3) It wasn't that cool - the brush, sticks, and briars made it difficult and ugly.
But, I still can't help wanting to just hike in a direction with a compass for a few days . . .
Thursday, April 28, 2011
excercise habits
I exercise because its a great stress relief. I always laugh too. Playing soccer. Playing racquetball. I enjoy the company I play with, I feel good, and I was staying fit. I was even graceful. Graceful in the sense that I wasn't getting hurt while making leaps and grabs.
My fitness lifestyle has changed a lot, but one thing hasn't. I need to exercise with other people.
When I run, I'm not laughing. When I do something at home, I'm bored and watch TV at the same time.
Finally starting Pilates has been a fresh change. I can push myself more in a group, and I still laugh. At myself, at all of us straining. At our weakness and lack of determination.
There is a Pilates move where a person hangs onto his or her ankles and rolls backwards, stalls and rolls forward slowly. The aim is to control the roll with your stomach muscles. It turns out, I don't have those stomach muscles or muscle coordination. I roll back and forth like a barrel. And sometimes, I tip over.
I read recently about a new style of Yoga: Anti-gravity yoga. There are hammocks one hangs from the ceiling and you start off by laying in the hammock that also serves as a tent, to meditate. The participants than proceed to perform acrobatic strengthening and stretching maneuvers.
It just looks like a lot of fun, my kind of entertainment . . . I mean exercise.
My fitness lifestyle has changed a lot, but one thing hasn't. I need to exercise with other people.
When I run, I'm not laughing. When I do something at home, I'm bored and watch TV at the same time.
Finally starting Pilates has been a fresh change. I can push myself more in a group, and I still laugh. At myself, at all of us straining. At our weakness and lack of determination.
There is a Pilates move where a person hangs onto his or her ankles and rolls backwards, stalls and rolls forward slowly. The aim is to control the roll with your stomach muscles. It turns out, I don't have those stomach muscles or muscle coordination. I roll back and forth like a barrel. And sometimes, I tip over.
I read recently about a new style of Yoga: Anti-gravity yoga. There are hammocks one hangs from the ceiling and you start off by laying in the hammock that also serves as a tent, to meditate. The participants than proceed to perform acrobatic strengthening and stretching maneuvers.
It just looks like a lot of fun, my kind of entertainment . . . I mean exercise.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
slowing down
With my Anne here the TV is running non-stop.
It's often on with Tolga and I, but I tune out Tolga's football programs.
Anne's shows I can't help noticing. They are soooo LONG.
The only one I can't stand is the news. Extremely dramatic music plays while a particularly horrifying and obscure news event is played OVER and OVER again. News is the shortest program on television. It's an HOUR long.
Deal or No Deal used to play in America for 20 minutes if you took out commercial time. It's a game where 20 people have a box. One person brings their box to the hot seat and chooses different numbers to open. Each box has between $1 and $500,000, and with each revelation your chances increase or decrease. At set points in the game, a special phone rings and you are offered a deal. The point is to accept the deal, or take your chances with the boxes.
The same show played here, except it was THREE hours long. There is a lot of discussion between players about what is in his/her box. Discussions on feelings and lucky numbers, on who knows what. When the time FINALLY comes to open A box, every player is wishing for good numbers. When it benefits the player there is singing, dancing, chanting, clapping - like they are in a parade after a big win. When the box hurts the players chances, sad sad sad music comes on. Everyone hangs there heads. Some cry. Some hug.
The television shows, with paid actors, are even more dramatic. The first show I watched, I was really into the story. After an hour completed, Tolga informed that what I saw was just the "summary". The action involves LONG meaningful looks between actors, with music. I guess it leaves room to really examine the interior of a character.
Just think how much we could be missing in American TV (or even in conversation, life, etc) with our fast talking and scene changing. Our wit may have made us lose some depth.
Or maybe, those Turks are just too dramatic.
It's often on with Tolga and I, but I tune out Tolga's football programs.
Anne's shows I can't help noticing. They are soooo LONG.
The only one I can't stand is the news. Extremely dramatic music plays while a particularly horrifying and obscure news event is played OVER and OVER again. News is the shortest program on television. It's an HOUR long.
Deal or No Deal used to play in America for 20 minutes if you took out commercial time. It's a game where 20 people have a box. One person brings their box to the hot seat and chooses different numbers to open. Each box has between $1 and $500,000, and with each revelation your chances increase or decrease. At set points in the game, a special phone rings and you are offered a deal. The point is to accept the deal, or take your chances with the boxes.
The same show played here, except it was THREE hours long. There is a lot of discussion between players about what is in his/her box. Discussions on feelings and lucky numbers, on who knows what. When the time FINALLY comes to open A box, every player is wishing for good numbers. When it benefits the player there is singing, dancing, chanting, clapping - like they are in a parade after a big win. When the box hurts the players chances, sad sad sad music comes on. Everyone hangs there heads. Some cry. Some hug.
The television shows, with paid actors, are even more dramatic. The first show I watched, I was really into the story. After an hour completed, Tolga informed that what I saw was just the "summary". The action involves LONG meaningful looks between actors, with music. I guess it leaves room to really examine the interior of a character.
Just think how much we could be missing in American TV (or even in conversation, life, etc) with our fast talking and scene changing. Our wit may have made us lose some depth.
Or maybe, those Turks are just too dramatic.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
many different names for you and I
At the end of the day, I was wrapping up some work and about to get ready for Pilates class. I attend pilates at my school two times a week. I'm learning Pilates Turkish, and getting a small session on strengthening my core.
I'll repeat some of the phrases/moves I've learned in Turkish to my students, prompting my latest class to burst out in applause. They are very loving students.
But today, Tolga called me at the end of the day to inform me "they" were at my school. It was the end of the school day, but I was suprised because Tolga had left work and picked up his mom to bring her to school.
I was over excited when I heard they had come. Tolga stayed in the lot on the phone with work issues. Anne was worried about her clothes, whether they were nice enough. She doesn't dress up often, but likes to when she goes out. She has maybe four outfits she wears. She splashes on a little perfume and keeps her hands clasped and her arms in tight to trap in wayward smells. I linked arms with my Anne and dragged her through the corridors. I couldn't resist stopping at every open door saying, "Benim Annem" and grinning ear-to-ear. She smiled a lot and invited everyone to Kusadasi.
I felt really proud of my Anne. And, I know she was really proud of me for the sole reason that I was to her: benim gelin - my bride. I guess I can't repeat enough what a powerful thing it is to called so many different names in a constant affirmation of who you are - my bride, my bright, my daughter, my heart. Try it once.
I'll repeat some of the phrases/moves I've learned in Turkish to my students, prompting my latest class to burst out in applause. They are very loving students.
But today, Tolga called me at the end of the day to inform me "they" were at my school. It was the end of the school day, but I was suprised because Tolga had left work and picked up his mom to bring her to school.
I was over excited when I heard they had come. Tolga stayed in the lot on the phone with work issues. Anne was worried about her clothes, whether they were nice enough. She doesn't dress up often, but likes to when she goes out. She has maybe four outfits she wears. She splashes on a little perfume and keeps her hands clasped and her arms in tight to trap in wayward smells. I linked arms with my Anne and dragged her through the corridors. I couldn't resist stopping at every open door saying, "Benim Annem" and grinning ear-to-ear. She smiled a lot and invited everyone to Kusadasi.
I felt really proud of my Anne. And, I know she was really proud of me for the sole reason that I was to her: benim gelin - my bride. I guess I can't repeat enough what a powerful thing it is to called so many different names in a constant affirmation of who you are - my bride, my bright, my daughter, my heart. Try it once.
Monday, April 25, 2011
"Little mother very bad!"
My mother-in-law is here for the week. The dread of the mother-in-law is universal, apparently, because when I mention this to Turks - they often respond with an, "oooh" - and not an "oooh" like ooh-that's great, nor ooh-that's-interesting, but ooh-I-feel-your-pain.
My father-in-law loves to say to me, "Little mother very bad!" And then he laughs a hearty laugh.
I don't really have anything to compare my mother-in-law to in Turkey. The closest I can compare her too is my own mother and the things she does for my sister-in-laws. My mom is very involved in their lives. There in lies the catch-22 of a mother-in-law I suppose.
My mother-in-law I don't think is typical. Maybe it has to do with her height. She is very very short and cute. She cooks and cares for the boys. She listens to them. Occasionally she is quite dramatic about an ailment she is feeling, and they will take over and serve her. For the most part she is unwavering at home. She loves to gossip - but mostly just with her sister and yenge. And she loves to brag about benim gelin - my bride.
I gave her a spare set of keys with a heart shaped key chain attached. Anne didn't want the keys (she's afraid to leave the home alone), but she liked the key chain. When Yenge called this evening she bragged about how I gave her a heart shaped key chain.
If only we were all that easy to please.
My father-in-law loves to say to me, "Little mother very bad!" And then he laughs a hearty laugh.
I don't really have anything to compare my mother-in-law to in Turkey. The closest I can compare her too is my own mother and the things she does for my sister-in-laws. My mom is very involved in their lives. There in lies the catch-22 of a mother-in-law I suppose.
My mother-in-law I don't think is typical. Maybe it has to do with her height. She is very very short and cute. She cooks and cares for the boys. She listens to them. Occasionally she is quite dramatic about an ailment she is feeling, and they will take over and serve her. For the most part she is unwavering at home. She loves to gossip - but mostly just with her sister and yenge. And she loves to brag about benim gelin - my bride.
I gave her a spare set of keys with a heart shaped key chain attached. Anne didn't want the keys (she's afraid to leave the home alone), but she liked the key chain. When Yenge called this evening she bragged about how I gave her a heart shaped key chain.
If only we were all that easy to please.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Integrating cultures
Turkey blocked this website for the last month or two - the country has a slight affinity for censorship. And then, for whatever reason, the ban was lifted.
Last night I went out to dinner with my American colleagues and their Turkish husbands. I figured we all had a good starting point to build relationships. I also had a slightly aberrant curiosity - I wanted to see how the Turks, a generally suspicious and untrusting bunch, would interact knowing each had swooped up blond-haired foreigner as a wife.
We made quite the group - we were a Muslim, a Mormon, a Catholic, a Christian, and an Atheist.
Tolga is easy-going and didn't have a problem. He's respectful and straightforward with a big likable smile. We ended up flip-flopping our seats so the husbands spoke in Turkish, and the wives spoke in English. We ate. A lot. And finished our meal some four hours later - it was a good beginning.
Today, Tolga and I walked down to the US Embassy residence to attend an Easter Cantata and brunch. We moved through security and entered American land. Manicured lawns, old vines climbing up a mansion of high ceilings and luxurious curtains. It was a little bit shocking seeing the trim blond-haired blue eyed citizens. Sure, it was multicultural - with other races, but white and blonde was the dominant colors.
The message involved words like the Garden of Gesthemane, Calvary, and so on. And I wondered - how many people would a story like this reach using such loaded language?
The Embassy was a beautiful place, but again, how much foreign relations are you building when you are fenced off from the rest of the city? Those attending the service were mostly connected to the army base - another little America. These citizens would go to school, work, and shop for American products without ever tasting Turkey. Or, they can venture out and the come back to this safe haven to tell their friends about experiences in a culture that is literally right outside their doors.
Last night I went out to dinner with my American colleagues and their Turkish husbands. I figured we all had a good starting point to build relationships. I also had a slightly aberrant curiosity - I wanted to see how the Turks, a generally suspicious and untrusting bunch, would interact knowing each had swooped up blond-haired foreigner as a wife.
We made quite the group - we were a Muslim, a Mormon, a Catholic, a Christian, and an Atheist.
Tolga is easy-going and didn't have a problem. He's respectful and straightforward with a big likable smile. We ended up flip-flopping our seats so the husbands spoke in Turkish, and the wives spoke in English. We ate. A lot. And finished our meal some four hours later - it was a good beginning.
Today, Tolga and I walked down to the US Embassy residence to attend an Easter Cantata and brunch. We moved through security and entered American land. Manicured lawns, old vines climbing up a mansion of high ceilings and luxurious curtains. It was a little bit shocking seeing the trim blond-haired blue eyed citizens. Sure, it was multicultural - with other races, but white and blonde was the dominant colors.
The message involved words like the Garden of Gesthemane, Calvary, and so on. And I wondered - how many people would a story like this reach using such loaded language?
The Embassy was a beautiful place, but again, how much foreign relations are you building when you are fenced off from the rest of the city? Those attending the service were mostly connected to the army base - another little America. These citizens would go to school, work, and shop for American products without ever tasting Turkey. Or, they can venture out and the come back to this safe haven to tell their friends about experiences in a culture that is literally right outside their doors.
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