Random Stuff

Flatmates
Sondra and I have hit it off very well, sharing stories of our lives and spending time exploring our neighborhood together. She finished her Masters in English recently, spent time in the Peace Corps in Chad and has also been to Japan. She's very dark-haired and with her sunglasses covering her hazel eyes, she could pass for Turkish. But the large tree tattoo on her shoulder and her tank tops contradict the Turkish vibe we find in our neighborhood.

I feel a bit Other-ish walking around, like everyone is looking at us. When I mentioned this to the three female (all blond and wavy-haired, blue-eyed) teachers from PEÉ they told me: Get used to it. Ok. But it's still a goal to figure out how to blend in as much as possible.

George is a bit of an enigma. I cannot tell if he's shy about living with two women--perhaps it's a problem, even at 26? He's not unfriendly, he's just a bit sharp and reserved. He arrived weeks before Sondra or me and he's already started teaching, which has him on his toes. He's from Manchester (I made a fool of myself by asking if that was a suburb...) and is into African drumming. His slang is confusing and Sondra and I often ask him to explain or repeat things he says. I'm sure it adds insult to injury that he can't speak any language without feeling like his listener is flummoxed.

Food
I was asked about the cuisine available in restaurants. Honestly, I don't know yet. I was only at one cafe on Saturday where they served traditional Turkish fare. Sondra, George and I are all budgeting ourselves to make it to our first pay day (sometime in October), so we have been careful not to splurge. Cheap foods include: fresh vegetables and ekmek (bread). Ekmek is made daily and is bought in pretty big loaves for 75 cents (The New Turkish Lira is close enough to the dollar that I just pretend they're the same).

There are lots of tiny stores crammed along the sidewalk and they all sell the same sorts of things: different brands of bottled water, a better selection of fruits and veggies, bigger or smaller loaves of ekmek. We can walk a few minutes in either direction and have loads of food to choose from. I LOVE not needing a car!

Watch the World Go By
What would we do without our balcony? We sit out there a lot--more, it seems, than other neighbors who use their balconies primarily for drying laundry. The street below is fascinating: boys playing hide and seek (around and under parked cars--yeah! dirty!); shop owners sitting outside on chairs; people buying groceries or drinking water. Water must be purchased in 5 gallon jugs every few days (tap water has high levels of arsenic)--consequently, the street is lined with water shops. Just now I saw a delivery guy roll up to a water store on his scooter and pull three of these huge water jugs onto his scooter. He balanced two on the floor by his feet and placed a third on his lap before driving off, precariously dodging traffic. It's better than televizyon.

Close Encounters of the Turkish Kind
Sondra and I hardly speak a word of Turkish. Yet we're able to maneuver the marketplace with a handful of words, especially the oft-repeated thank you. Shopkeepers are very friendly and want to engage in conversation, at which point I say apologetically, İngilizce (which only means "English" because in the moment I am too flustered to ever remember to say the proper Turkçe bilmiyorum--"I don't speak Turkish"). They smile back and try to speak as simply as possible but it's lost on us. My brain is so confused--I constantly squash the instinct to respond in French. It's a foreign language, right? Just not the right one...

Yesterday was Sunday. Many shops are closed then and fresh vegetables become rare. So last night, when I was on the balcony listening to the Call to Prayer blasted from a prayer room below our flat and noticed that a fruit market had opened up a couple doors away, I ran down to see if there was anything I could add to my dinner of rice and sautéed eggplant. After a belabored "conversation" with the shopkeeper, I was given the six bitsy shallots and one green vegetable (was it a cucumber or a zucchini? I couldn't tell yet...) I had chosen. "No problem," he said. I kept gesturing with my wallet that I wanted to pay but he waved me away and I carried off my plunder.

Later, George brought home two Turkish blokes. When he taught English in Manchester he had a Turkish student from İzmir who gave George some local connections--including this student's brother. So George has begun hanging out with the brother and his friend and muddling through the language barrier. They came home to sit on the balcony last night and drink beer when the pub was closed. Sondra and I were useless. I was totally in awe of George, though. His Turkish is far from perfect, and every so often he would take a huge breath and try to keep going, but he is trying. Bravely struggling with a new language. New goal: Emulate George.

Electrical Outlets
In our flat you won't find any of the spoiled excess in the States (where you can plug every electrical appliance you own into the wall at once and suck down enough power to operate a small jet plane). Here, the bathroom and each bedroom has one outlet--not a double socket like in the States. Pick. Do you want to plug in your computer, the fan, or the vacuum cleaner? In the bathroom, is it going to be the washing machine or the hair dryer? The kitchen is the height of luxury with four outlets.

Jetlag
I'm doing very well with the time change. After the first 24 hours of being completely exhausted, I have been fine. I think the combination of melatonin, not drinking alcohol and arriving at night has been a benefit. Hopefully there will be no delayed effects because I feel great today.

Work
Yes, eventually I will work. Today Sondra and I are going to PEÉ for our orientation. I'll get a tour of the school and get blasted by expectation. Perhaps we'll do some classroom observation. I'm glad to feel so settled and antsy at home--it means I'm ready to find out about the next thing!