arkadaş

People who have Bachelor of Education degrees and move to another country to teach are generally pretty rad people.  They are usually friendly, outgoing and have a great sense of adventure.  People who move abroad to teach English as a Foreign Language tend to fall into one of two categories:  1) They are really rad people who are friendly, outgoing and have a great sense of adventure, or 2) They are rejects of Western society (to quote my good friend Colleen, who I agree with 100%)

I'm never afraid to move abroad to study or teach, mainly because of Category # 1.  I know I'm bound to meet people, and I'm almost guarenteed that I'm going to have alot of things in common with my new group of friends because we have similar goals:  We are teachers who want to travel.

People from my hometown are always asking, 'Do you have any friends in Turkey/London/Chicoutimi/Brussels/Montreal (insert latest travel idea here) ...?' when I mention moving or travelling to another place and my response is usually no.  But to echo Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love, I think to myself 'But I will have friends'.  I'm happy to report that I have had no problem making friends in any of the places I've been to thus far, and Turkey is no exception.

Despite the fact that there is a possibility of a higher proportion of Category # 2 here in Turkey (I am teaching ESL now, not mainstream school) I have managed to find a small group of the lovliest people you'd ever want to meet, and I am so unbelievably grateful for their company.

Google Images:  Olympos beach, Turkey

Together with two of these girls, we booked a trip to Olympos, a beach destination in the Mediterranean part of Turkey where you can stay in cute little treehouses.  We have booked a three bed treehouse for our long weekend (October 29-31).  Olympos is supposed to be great fun, with hot weather, sandy beaches and open-air discos.

Google Images:  Side, Turkey

We have also booked another trip to the Mediterranean Coast of Turkey, this time in Side, which is supposed to have beautiful sandy beaches and plenty of archeological sites if we get bored of the beach (I can promise you, I won't though).  We've booked an all-inclusive resort and plan on taking full advantage of the all-you-can eat and drink aspect of it.

The Mediterranean Coast of Turkey was one of my main reasons for moving here and it hurts my soul to know I've been here for two months and haven't been there yet.  I'm so excited to be on my way to a beach on Thursday night.

at the kuaför

It was well time to get my hair done.  I'd had my highlights done before I left for Turkey and since I'd been here 6 weeks my roots were long showing.  Colleen and I booked an appointment with a reccomended hair salon and got up early on Saturday morning to go.  Before I go on, I must underline the fact that this salon doesn't have ANYONE who can speak English...and well, my Turkish is about as good as their English.  Colleen and I decided our primary strategy for overcoming the language barrier would be visual aids.  As soon as we got into the salon we grabbed some magazines and pored over them for photos of highlights to show our kuaförs.  They nodded in agreement, and so our adventure began.  For my hair, they put in a FULL set of highlights...and I mean FULL.  Almost all of my head was covered, which kind of defeats the purpose of highlights, but I'm rolling with it because he's the kuaför and I don't have the vocab to argue.  (Here's where I stop and expand on the fact that most kuaförs around here are MALE.  Yes, the person painting bleach on my hair and wrapping it in tin foil is indeed very much a man.  This strikes me as funny because I'm only ever had a woman do my hair.  I'm not saying males can't or don't do hair (Tony and Guy, anyone?) but I will say that where I'm from, hairdressing is not exactly a male dominated profession.)

I find out that these men really, really do know what they're doing.  The man washes out my highlights in three increments, starting from the back of my neck so that the highlights on the top are actually lighter, giving my hair great variation.  My cut was fabulous too.  I was initially worried, so I looked through a hairdressing book to find pictures of hairdressing tools and found a picture of a razor.  I pointed to this tool and then to my head.  The kuaför then nodded in agreement and pointed to my developing mullet and made razor sounds.  He knows he needs to razor off my mullet!  Wow.  I'm shocked at how easily it was to communicate what I wanted despite not having even one word in common!  I can easily recall having to spell out what I wanted to hairdressers, who speak the same damn language as I do.

I walk out of the salon with a lot less lira in my wallet (it was pretty expensive, but please don't ask how much, I'm trying to forget about it) and a whole lot blonder.  Barbie has got nothing on me.  I don't think I've ever been this blonde before (except for that one time I tried highlighting my hair myself, fell asleep outside in the sun and my hair was as white as the white side of Cruella Deville's hair...and I spent the summer trying to undo the damage.  Remember that, Mom?).  But THIS time my hair actually looks nice, and I have gotten over the shock of ALL of it being so very blonde.

The only downfall with having blonde hair here is that it is so very rare, so it attracts attention.  Most Turkish people have fabulous olive complexions and shiny dark hair, so it's a bit rare to spot a pale complected blonde girl.  I do get looked at, and occasionally stared at.  It's not a huge problem, and I must admit that sometimes I feel like a bit of a celebrity...that said, there are certain times with I go celebrity incognito (hat and sunglasses) to blend in with the crowd...it's amazing what a difference it makes.

Do we stand out?

Nefiste!

Gozleme: Imagine a Turkish quesadilla made with feta-like cheese....om nom nom.

'Nefiste' was one of the first Turkish phrases I learned, right after learning how to say 'My name is Kirbie, nice to meet you.'  It means 'It was delicious!' and you'd be surprised how many times a day I say this one simple phrase.

The reason I'm raving on about the food, in foreign language, is that the food here is insanely delicious.  I'm not sure I've been to a country where the food has been so delicious (except maybe Italy, because frankly, you can't beat a good slice of crispy crust, oozy cheese pizza).

Traditional Turkish breakfast is a simple plate of olives, cheese, tomatoes and cucumber.  While I don't eat this throughout the week, I'll sometimes linger over a plate of this while reading on my balcony on the weekends.  I make Turkish çay (tea) to go with it.

Tavuk Siş: Chicken on a skewer :)

Lunch and supper can be a combination of bulger and seasoning, spiced chicken or vegetables and yogurt.  Pide (Turkish flatbread) and lahmacun (Turkish pizza) also popular here, but tend to be laden with a mixture of ground beef and lamb, so they're not usually an option for me.  Turkey is not a very vegetarian-friendly country, but non-meat eaters can get by on sides and starters.  I found a very beautiful restaurant called Cafe des Cafes on Tunalı that serves delicious veggie burgers.

The bread here is also 'nefis'.  I'm particulary partial to the round rings of bread covered in sesame seeds called 'simit'.  You can buy simit in the streets, it's sold out of a noticable little red cart, and you can usually get 3 for 1 TL.  I've heard that in the early mornings in the city, men sell simit by piling them on top of a sort of hat-like carrying device on the heads and call out 'simit!'  I desperately want to be up early in the morning in the city so I can get my hands on this hat-bread.  Ramadan bread is also delicious, and I ate as much of this as I possibly could during Ramadan.  I can't describe this bread, but it's white bread with a unique flavouring...almost sweet.

So then there's Turkish ice cream...intensely flavoured (like lemon, chocolate and vanilla) and stretchy (they pull it out of a container on a stick, and stretch is like BREAD DOUGH!  I don't know how this is possible, but this ice cream actually STRETCHES when you try to eat it.  You try to lick it and it just gets pushed around with your tongue.  You try to pull a bit off with your lips and it stretches.  It doesn't melt easily in the heat, so it's perfect for those 30 degree days when you'd prefer not to wear your ice cream on your shirt.  But seriously?  Stretchy ice cream?  Willy Wonka would be proud.

What really gets me though are the desserts.  First and foremost are what I'm going to call honey cakes.  They may have been one of the reasons I moved here.  I first ate these at the Bilkent cafeteria on East Campus and my heart has belonged to them ever since.  The cakes/cookie like pastry is heavy and is made of what I think is almond paste.  The cake is baked into an almond shape and then....soaked in a honey-like syrup.  When you eat it it's heavy and sticky and I practically drool trying to get it into my mouth.  I think these honey cakes are actually called 'lokma', but I'm not sure.  I get so excited when I see them I don't even bother trying to find out the name, I just plunk this sucker on my tray as fast as I can.  Next up is baklava.  Ohhhh dear me, baklava.  This is a delicious little sweet that involves philo pastry and a honey-like syrup (do you see a pattern here?).  These little desserts are so unbelievable sweet you can almost feel your teeth aching as you're cramming it down your throat.

On Sunday, we discovered this great little dessert shop conviently across from the grocery store where I sometimes ship.  Eilidh was brave enough to ask (in our limited Turkish) for 200 grams (it's sold by weight) of this delicious Baklava and I managed to choke out the word 'bende' (which means 'the same').  We walked away happily with our pretty little dessert boxes filled with sweet tasting baklava, for a steal of only 5 TL!

I can honestly say that I'm probably not going to lose any weight here, but I think I'll take the advice one of my students told me when I said I shouldn't be eating so much:  'No problem.  Eat simit.' 

Don't mind if I do.

PS.  I have some gorgeous pictures of all this food I've been eating but I'm unable to upload them right now.  Will try again later.

Ayla the cat

Homeless animals are a huge problem in Turkey.  Similar to other countries, irresponsible people who no longer want their pets simply dispose of them on the street.  As a result, it's difficult to walk down a street here without seeing a stray cat or dog begging for food or lying around in the heat.  If you are eating out on the terrace of a restaurant, it's common for a stray cat to brush against your legs and cry for food.  The waiters shoo them away by throwing water at them.

Seeing how animals are treated here makes me realise how great of a job our local SPCA's are doing, and it also makes me want to help the situation here.  I'm lucky to live in a two bedroom appartment in a building that allows animals.  I also happen to work in a Teacher's Unit with a few animal lovers and animal right's activists.  One girl in particular is well known in our school for finding strays, bringing them to a local veteranarian who keeps the animals in empty cages until she can find homes for them.  But there are not nearly enough empty cages to house all of the street animals.  So, foster homes are desperately needed until homes can be found.  I decided to volunteer as a foster 'mom' for a cat.  On Saturday, I got a little, all-white, green-eyed kitten.  She is about 4 months old, and VERY active.  Because she spent a couple months of her short life in a cage in a vet's office, she is starved for attention.  She runs to me the minute I put the key in the door, and for about the first 15 minutes I am home, I can't get her off of me.  She likes to cuddle into my neck, and at the moment she is standing on my shoulder, purring in my ear, occasionally licking or chewing on my ear.  I have chosen the Turkish name Ayla for her, which means moonlight.

We are currently looking for a home for my little Ayla.  I love having her at my appartment, but the best thing for Ayla would be a nice home, maybe with some nice children to play with (because she is so active), where she can live permanently.  Until then, she'll be cuddled up beside me :)