(Part II) What is an Emlakçı and Why am I Giving Him Money?

So we decided to ditch the emlakçıs after several unsuccessful trips here and there to apartments we had no interest in at all. This happened about day 3 of the hunt. We were, however, still confident in our search and set out on foot to find the “For Rent” signs hanging on the balconies and in the windows of potential apartments. But guess what, when you call the numbers to the apartments, you just get the emlakçı on the other end AHHHH!!! So they would say “just come down to our office and we can talk about it.” NO! I want you to come show me this apartment- but that’s just not the system here. And you know what, when you go to an emlakçı office, they don’t even offer you çay! They’re not Turkish, they’re the devil.

We continued the emlakçı game for another day or two when we decided to put the hunt on hold. Besides, it was nearing the end of the Ramazan holiday and we figured we’d find something after. On our last day of looking around for places, our friend’s parents came along to help out. Catherine and I were so discouraged at this point that we decided to up our price a bit to accommodate a nicer place that would probably be unfurnished, but at least we would have a place and feel happy about it. We were totally ready to get an apartment and then just buy two folding couches and start with that, adding a new piece of furniture every payday. So we found a place that looked really nice and gave the emlakçı a call. He said it was 1100TL unfurnished (way out of our price range) but that he did have another place that was 1500TL completely furnished. We told him that we wanted something like that but 1000TL/month. He counter offered 1250TL so we said that we’d take a look.  This flat was actually one we had seen on day 1 of searching but just never got around to calling about. It’s in the busy nightlife part of Bornova in an area called Küçükpark (Little Park). It’s on a street lined with nightclubs and bars with patios. Above all the nightlife chaos are residential apartments.

We met the emlakçı at the apartment building and he took us up to the 5^th floor. The first thing I noticed, or anyone would notice about this place, is the door. It’s really cool (pictures to follow). I immediately felt like, uh oh this place is fancier than we can afford.

We slipped our shoes off and walked inside where the owners were waiting for us. A scrawny, hunched over old chain smoking man and a frizzled out, almost-natural red headed lady with a voice that sort of explained the appearance of her worn out husband or conjugal partner or whoever he was. The woman was so excited to show us around and pointed out all the obvious features of the place while repeating in her shrilly Turkish “Please, you can use this- and this when you have guests.” I don’t know how many times she showed us that the tables could extend if you put the leaf in- as if we had never encountered such technology.

Catherine and I took a good look around and were extremely excited. How could we not be? This place, although Turkified out to the MAX- only lacking the seemingly traditional glitter fabric in the couches, it was exactly what we were looking for! A 4-bedroom, 1 ½ bath, big “American kitchen,” “Hilton bathroom,” 2 balconies and everything that we would need to move in and start living all the way down to the çay spoons and 2 electric juicers. What’s the catch?

It didn’t even take words for Catherine and I to agree on the fact that this WAS going to be our apartment. Now, how to explain that to these squeaky people running around trying to show us how to use the dishwasher?! Luckily, our friends came along with us again and helped negotiate- or at least they thought they were negotiating. There were a lot of smiles and handshakes and it was agreed to meet the next morning at the emlakçı’s office (that’s where they get you).

We were so excited to finally get an apartment, and one that was exactly what we had wished for! However, things aren’t that easy in Turkey! Something that I had failed to mention about the evilness of the emlakçı is that they charge a fee. Not only do they charge a fee, but this fee is completely unnecessary as the emlakçı her/himself is completely unnecessary. They do not work for us and seem to exist ONLY to collect this fee. It’s so unfair that we did all the hard work, all the hunting around, all the phone calling but it doesn’t matter, an apartment rental is attached to this extremely arbitrary and unfair system that includes paying someone to show you an apartment (that you actually found) one time and then creating a “contract” that is just a very basic looking contract that is probably available on the “become an emlakçı, screw over the public and make millions” website. Oh and no çay!

How much is this emlakçı fee, you are wondering. You are probably assuming that since this person does absolutely nothing for you that the fee would be something like 100$ so maybe 150TL but you are wrong in your naïve assumption. No, an emlakçı charges an entire month’s rent for their troubles. And in this case the rent became 1300TL/month. Wait, that’s up 50TL from the discussions the night before. Oh and excuse me, you want $1000, yes DOLLARS, for the damage deposit. I beg your pardon, but we are paid in Turkish Lira! Shut the Front Door! If we don’t pay you in $ then you want 2000TL for the deposit? Uh but that’s 300TL more than what a converted $1000 would be! Oh but thanks for taking your arbitrary and theft-like fee from 1300 to 1000TL, due of course, now.

This number talk sparked heat between our friends and the emlakçı. There were loud voices and long explanations of how and why these fees are justified. But our friends, Mehmet Ali and his wife, Nedime, were not convinced. Mehmet Ali took the copies of our passports and ripped them up, said “have a nice day” and we walked out. Horror, absolute horror overcame my body and I started to shake- some of that due to the lack of çay from a business transaction. We followed our friends out and down the street where Mehmet Ali deposited our ripped up passport copies into a street drain. I was watching our apartment flush down the sewer!!

We walked to Büyükpark (Big Park- close to Small Park) and sat down to have the çay that we were denied at the emlakçı. I nervously proceeded to ask about wtf had just happened without trying to seem too concerned. I assumed that I had just witnessed a normal part of negotiation in Turkey because there are always these tiffs in such transactions. Bargaining is a big part of the culture here and it does usually take for the customer to just walk away from a deal before the best and final deal can be achieved. However, in this case, I think our friend was just outright offended by the change in prices from what we had discussed the night before and the ones presented in the emlakçı office. Mehmet Ali lit up a few cigarettes and pondered while Catherine and I started becoming ill about the situation, me figuratively but Catherine, literally!

After a while, he called the owner, the frizz-lady, and apologized for reacting so strongly to the emlakçı’s offer. Her response sounded like “well I don’t care as long as I get my money.” What to do? We sat through another round of cigarettes, or in our cases cigarette smoke. Then Mehmet Ali asked Nedime to call the evil emlakçı because he was completely through dealing with that snake! When she hung up, she told us that the prices wouldn’t change but that we could pay the full month’s rent now and then half of the deposit and emlakçı fee now and the other half the next month. We quickly tallied our TLs and decided that was completely reasonable- just please let us get this apartment!

I don’t want to say “to make a long story short” on a blog, but it boiled down to meeting with the emlakçı at his apartment (which is actual in the same building as the one that we wanted-ugh-). We signed the contract and then I had to go out and get copies of it. The old lady owner wouldn’t be back until later that night so we had all day to sit and think about what had happened that morning. We sat around nervously waiting for a call from the emlakçı to come sign the papers with the owner. I was going into that freak-out mode where all sorts of scenarios of the ways that we had lost this awesome apartment were playing out in my head. Catherine was even thinking of backup plans. Would we settle for that first ugly apartment, would we continue looking in the morning or maybe we could even just get that empty 2-bedroom and call it done! Then the phone rang.

We went back to the apartment where we had been the night before and again the fireball-head of energy lady insisted on taking us through the rooms again showing us exactly what she had the night before. She was talking about the rugs and where to put them and this and that and this and finally I said politely yet somewhat rude and forcefully, let’s just sign the contract.

I handed over a big stack of Turkish Lira and that finalized it, almost. I said that I wanted a receipt. “Why do you want a receipt?- The receipts begin in the next month,” said the emlakçı, referencing the little booklet of receipts that began with October. I informed the crowd that I have lived in Turkey for a year and the one thing I have learned is to have everything in writing and signed and if possible, sealed. So the emlakçı wrote out an unofficial receipt and I made them sign it. I was handing over a big amount of cash and I wanted written proof that they had received it- I learned my lesson in Yozgat when the men at the gym took my 6 month contract money and closed their gym after 3 months. That time I was lucky because I had the city prosecutors and judges as my students and getting that money back was a matter of a few phone calls and one hour. But, seeing as shady things like that DO happen here, I didn’t want to chance it, despite the aggravation, but I’m sorry Mr. Emlakçı, I just paid you a substantial fee, you can writing a receipt!

They wouldn’t leave fast enough, but when they finally did, Catherine and I hugged each other and then sort of did a silly jump up and down excitement dance! We talked with our friends who had helped us for a little while and when they left we ran around the apartment de Turkifying it- meaning pulling all the lacey covers from the tabletops and all the furniture covers from the couches and chairs. It was like an hour of excitement, discovering what was in the place in detail.

We did it! We not only got an apartment, but we got exactly what we had hoped for, despite the grueling process! I love everything about our place, which we have nicknamed the “X-Mansion” because of the three X’s on the front door that look like something from X-Men. Coming home is so nice. It’s nothing like last year… I even experienced more culture shock when I called for water and gas delivery… it came! Maşallah! It’s so convenient and cheap, why couldn’t it have been like this last year?! I know, because now this great place is appreciated just that much more! We have an open door policy to share our place with all those travelling to Izmir, which will be a lot of the new Fulbrighters, hopefull. And we have even just hosted our first guest from couchsurfer.   We have been cooking almost every night and eating on the balcony overlooking the nightlife below.  It's the happy ending to a pretty dramatic/traumatic experience but something tells me there are going to be many great times had with friends and randoms to make up for the rocky experience!

(Part I) What is an Emlakçı and Why am I Giving Him Money?

I think I have figured out the right amount of drugs/wine to make it through the exhausting trip from the States to Turkey and even through the next day…for your future reference the recipe is as follows:

2 sleeping pills (in my case I used unisom) and then as much red wine as you can drink on a 10 hour flight. Take the sleeping pills when you get on the plane and then wash them down with whatever box red wine they are serving. Yes, you have to ask for the endless wine from multiple flight attendants or you will start receiving questionable looks. Don’t worry about the guy two seats down with the squirmy kid who kicks in his sleep (naturally seated next to you). You can avoid their judgmental whispers and glances by ordering a final glass of wine…just before you are about to pass out. Take another sleeping pill out and with eyes looking a little crazed, inform the brat and his socially-ignorant-when-it-comes-to-annoying-kids-on-planes caretaker that, “this is my last one! Hope it holds me over on this flight. But psych meds are sooo much cheaper in Turkey!!!” Then slam your red wine and put your earphones in. Goodnight and see you in two days.

When I awoke, I found myself at a Turkish bus stop. If you’ve read the posts in my blog from last year, you know these bus stops are little bustling worlds of döner kebab salesmen and çaycı’s running around so quickly that smoke devils (like dust devils) are created from the toxic exhaled fumes of all the jittery addicted people who have their cigarettes lit on the last steps of the buses while those of us who really just need to pee push them politely out of the way with a loud and sarcastic warning, “PAAARdon!” Turns out that trying to battle the jetlag by staying up the night before didn’t really work so well, but bless that airplane concoction!

Arriving in Izmir was fine. We were picked up at the bus station and taken to our university’s newest dorms. We decided to walk around a little just to get a feel for the area and then had a grand meeting about how we were going to tackle and dominate the apartment hunt. We (mostly Catherine) had already done as much research in the States as we thought we could in regards to apartment hunting. There was really limited access to properties available for rent, but still we had lined up about 10-12 flats that we thought we could look at. Frustrated about the uncertainty in the States, I assured Catherine that it would be ok once we got to Izmir and sat down with a realtor and talked about our options. Only problem is that I forgot to factor “Turkey” into that logic.

We were dressed and ready to set out on our epic journey by 9am the next morning. No more jetlag or bus-lag only excitement and determination. We made a few mistakes from the start and the first was our choice in clothes. Izmir is a warm place. It has been in the mid/upper 90s since we arrived. Both Catherine and I lived in conservative parts of this country last year and are very used to being as modest as possible with dress. I suppose that, combined with the professional look we were going for in apartment hunting, is why we dressed semi formally and in pants. We didn’t have to walk very long to realize our mistake, but again the excitement of our endeavor trumped the uncomfortable heat.

We sat down at a café to have breakfast, something that was a little awkward because it was during Ramazan and the fasting times. We pulled the yabancı (foreigner) card for that one. Neither of us was interested in trying to pull off apartment hunting with low energy and it seemed like not everyone in Izmir was on the Ramazan plan (which struck me as odd because Istanbul definitely did seem like a fully participating population). I opened my computer, tethered it to my iphone internet and pulled up our list of apartments. Then I did the scary, calling the real estate agency about scheduling an appointment to see an apartment.

There’s an interesting phenomenon in Turkey that happens every so often that makes you feel like your efforts in learning the language are in vain and that you, in fact, don’t even speak a word of it. It happens when you say the clearest sentence you can and the receiver in the conversation has no idea what you have just said! What could cause this breakdown in communication? I think it has something to do with the fact that there just aren’t too many foreigners learning Turkish and then using it in Turkey for purposes other than tourism. So you will get the average Turkish person who may never meet a foreigner who speaks Turkish baffled at the slightly off vowel switch between “i” and “ı” or “u” and “ü” . . . maybe the intonation was wrong or accent on the wrong syllable (the French “parDON” vs Turkish “PARdon”). At any rate, you will, as a proud learner of Turkish, venture out to complete perilous tasks such as buying an electric beard trimmer or searching for 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets or even finding an apartment- all to have the salesperson standing in front of you with a look like you have just spoken a bad version of pig Latin. Then to completely destroy any pride you have left, the “helpful” salesperson will offer the most insulting: “say in English.” - “HOW DARE YOU!” - It’s enough to break the spirit of even the most confident language enthusiast.

But, that didn’t happen to me in this case. Instead, the realtor and I understood each other enough to know that we were far away from his office. In fact, we had no idea really where we were other than kind of close to one metro station. Again, our enthusiasm for the hunt was overflowing at this point and we just started walking. We kept walking and walking and walking until we finally found the Deniz Bank that we were to meet at. The realtor, a young woman dressed somewhat formally, was accompanied by a semi-sketchy looking man. They took us up to the flat in question and we gave it a looking over.

For the first flat that we had looked at, it was quite nice. It was actually exactly the price we wanted to pay, but because of all the walking we did to find it, we didn’t feel like it was in the location that we wanted. Later we would discover that it was actually a lot closer to the area we ended up living in. We just weren’t convinced that this was the place for us but the realtor and sketch-friend were very quick to insist that this was the only furnished apartment in the area and that we wouldn’t find any others. This is the same thing we would hear from every so-called realtor, or in Turkish “Emlakçı” –a word that has become offensive and synonymous with used car salesman.

We could’ve settled for that apartment though because it did have most the things that we wanted but it felt too much like a Turkish apartment… meaning it was crammed with offensive furniture, had a tiny bathroom and a pretty small kitchen. After having lived in the Bozok university guesthouse in Yozgat, I promised myself that I would have a decent apartment this year and make up for the uncomfortable conditions from last year. Catherine agreed as well, thankfully! So we decided to continue our search. However, we quickly learned that when we went to one of these emlakçı’s offices, they were using the same exact search programs that we had used in the States to find apartments. Not only that, but when you tell the emlakçı that you want a three bedroom, furnished apartment in the Kazım Dirik area they say “OK” and take you to a two bedroom, unfurnished apartment in the Özkanlar area. This was so frustrating because you assume they are taking you somewhere that fits the criteria you have requested when in reality they are taking you to some random apartment they want to get rid of. OH- and when I say “unfurnished” I mean -0- furnishings. Not only did unfurnished mean that there were no appliances (fridge, stove, washer etc) but sometimes it also meant that there were no light fixtures, only dangling wires. The thought of having to spend money on everything down to the light bulbs really got us worrying.

To find out if we ever found a place, read Part II. Suspenseful, right!?

Turkey- Take Two. Back and Better!

Welcome To Izmir – and back to my blog!

This is my second attempt at creating a blog for those of you curious about my adventures abroad. Last year I was doing fine for the first few months and then I was plagued with Turkish censorship. Blogspot.com was blocked by the Turkish government for some reason and that ended my drive to keep up a blog. I also became very busy with my duties at Bozok University (I’ll talk about that later) so I didn’t want to spend my free time writing about the work I had just been doing! However, I think I did some pretty cool things there and they are definitely worth talking about now.

Where am I now and what am I doing? I bet a lot of you are wondering that. I need to back up to last winter when all of us Fulbrighters were asking each other “what are you doing next year?” Some of them had plans and knew exactly what was next but a big chunk of us were scrambling for options. The year turned most of our worlds upside-down and planning for the next year took a back seat to making it through the year unscathed.

Well, I actually considered applying to Fulbright for another year in Yozgat (yes, it was an irrational crazy thought) because I had done so much work to start foreign language classes and really had a good thing going. However, after the way the university treated me, I could not sacrifice another year of my life to be a pawn in their ridiculous games of power tiffs (tangent to follow in later blog).

However, I really loved Turkey along with its people, culture and language. So- I decided to stay another year…but how? I started looking at private universities in places that would be the most desirable to live in. Izmir was the first place I looked at because it’s a costal city on west coast seated up against the Aegean Sea, third largest city in Turkey but doesn’t feel like it. There are 4 private universities here so I researched them and found the one university that had a German program, Yaşar University – since I am really a German teacher more than an English teacher.

I applied and received a positive response for an interview shortly after I sent my application but at that time of the year I was just so busy that I couldn’t respond and arrange for a weekend interview (an 11 hour bus ride away from Yozgat). But after my friend and fellow Fulbrighter, Catherine, told me she had an interview with Yaşar University, I got on the ball and arranged it so that I would have an interview the same day she did. Catherine flew down to Izmir but I took the long bus.

When I arrived in Izmir I didn’t even think I was still in Turkey. There were palm trees and water fountains (WITH water in them!!!). I was amazed with the site of green grass and other assorted plant life. Then I almost got hit by a car and was reminded that I’m still in Turkey! I ended up at an outdoor mall that had everything you would want, including an IKEA. I saw a man skimming the outdoor water features for the occasional cigarette butt and I almost approached him: “Sir, Sir, you don’t have to do that!! It’s Turkey!” But this is a different side of Turkey I guess.

The interview was something completely unexpected. Having been in Yozgat and used to the formal arbitrariness of everything, I figured I’d be talking to someone very important in a stiff office over lots of çay (tea) and so I dressed for that occasion ~ formal. So when the director of the school of foreign languages came out in jeans and a t-shirt I actually experienced a bit of culture shock! The interview was really just me talking about my experiences in Yozgat. Tell anyone in Turkey you live in Yozgat as a foreigner and you have to explain why . . . tell this to a prospective employer and you have to give the whole story. They really seemed to love my story and had lots of positive things to say to me for my efforts in Yozgat, funny that a school who didn’t even know me was more appreciative of my efforts than the school I was actually working hard at!

But, as many of you know it became a waiting game. They told us we wouldn’t find out until the 15^th of May. Catherine and I were really pleased with our interviews and both received emails that said something like “we look forward to seeing you on the 2011/2012 academic year teaching roster.” So because of that, we were a little less motivated to look for other options for the year. However, we did apply at some other institutes in Istanbul. Catherine even had another interview at on of the other private universities in Izmir. However, she was really unimpressed with that school.

It was the second day of my conference in Yozgat (definitely more to come on that) that Catherine and I found out about the job at Yaşar University. It was early in the day before I was to open up the second day of sessions at the conference when the email came. I was checking my email for materials to be printed for the day’s sessions and saw the headline from an unrecognized Turkish name . . . “Dear Mr. Robinson, we are pleased to offer you a position. . .” I started shaking and said very neutrally, “Catherine, you need to check your email.” She knew exactly what I was referring to as we had been anticipating the email but sort of expected it the next week.

When she finally read the mail we were able to celebrate! It was on Friday the 13^th at 12:51, the time on my wall clock in my Yozgat office that never moved because despite the nice Bozok University clock that they had given me, a battery was never provided. It’s now a running joke about everything important happening at 12:51.

So that’s the story of how it came to be that I am in Izmir, a city that at first glance appears to be more European, but is really just Turkish with a twist. I have been here for two weeks now and constantly reminded why I love this country. That’s not to say there haven’t been bumps, but I know this is going to be a great year.

Now that you know why I am back in Turkey, I’ll work on post that tells the story of finding a place to live- one of the most frustrating things I’ve dealt with in Turkey. Find out why in the next blogpost.

Frustrations of the Institution!

One of the most difficult things about my assignment at this 4-year old institution is the literal infancy of development through which this place seems to be suffering. I mean this both in the physical development of the campus grounds as well as the “school” of thought (a pun!) that is running the education policies.

It is so frustrating that much of what we are doing as educators (NOT ONLY IN TURKEY) is viewed as the fulfillment of, oft times, seemingly- arbitrary laws. I know that as a teacher of foreign languages, something that is seen as a “should” but not “necessary,” I am fighting a special battle. As programs in the US are being cut to accommodate any sort of excessiveness, Turkey is trying to jump start a language program.

However, this new policy towards foreign language is, as it seems in many of the State-run education policies are, a disarray of paperwork, policy and bureaucracy. “They” have at least identified that there is a problem. Turks really only speak Turkish.

As an American, I hear so often that I am from a monolingual country. This couldn’t be any further from the truth and I love to list the languages I can speak as soon as the accusation of coming from a one-tongue nation is made! Having studied at the University of Illinois, I am well aware of the exciting developments in foreign language learning, something that has really become a well-researched and “important” field, especially since the Cold War era. However, it was only recently that teachers of foreign languages have understood the importance of teaching a language for function, not merely for the sake of “knowing” a language.

The difference is COMMUNICATION vs grammar translation. Even in our high school systems, something we are all looking at for an overhaul (Thanks for addressing it in the SOTU this past week Pres. Obama!), are better than the foreign language teaching in many of these State-run universities. It might seem frustrating, boring, maybe even busy-work-y for students to learn situations like: making a hotel reservation or booking a flight or ordering at a restaurant but all of these are productive and useful life scenarios where communication between two or more people must occur to accomplish a task.

What learners don’t realize, even though they should since we include grammar instruction alongside these scenarios, is that they are learning meaningful chunks of language that allows the learned material to “stick” with them – and it’s a good thing too, because this is meaningful language that can be used “right out of the box.”

What is happening in Turkey? Well, that’s a good question. I can speak for my university and can make a -somewhat safe assumption- that it is an accurate generalization that what is being taught here is purely to obtain a passing test score on the Turkish government mandated tests. There is no communication involved and there really is no point the courses. I asked a colleague, “What do you hope your students will achieve after this year of instruction?” His reply was in congruence with the YÖK (higher ed. council of Turkey) that students should have a better understanding of grammar, be able to use vocabulary in their respected fields and have a basic understanding of the language.

Ask any teach of a foreign language at a US-institution, “what do you hope your students will be able to do at the end of the year?” and you will probably just be given a syllabus to read for yourself. Our system teaches thematic scenarios that eases learners through grammar while grouping vocabulary. In Turkish State-run uni style, there is a book and each teacher is responsible for his or her class to get as far through the book as possible in the 60 or so hours of instruction throughout the year.

My colleagues do not communicate with each other, coordinate syllabi (nor do they create syllabi). There is not coordination in lesson plans, quizzes or tests. Each teacher writes a test for his or her own students that he or she feels will reflect the teaching in the classroom throughout the semester. This results in uneven levels and uneven learning. However, I am not sure what else they could do, given the system.

Each “English” class is actually a group of students who are in the same class depending on their majors. These students stay with each other throughout their 4 years at the university. It is like high school. They take all the same classes that are predetermined according to major. This is a highly inefficient system for teaching a foreign language as we are faced with students from varying levels depending on previous education in the high schools. Of course, this means you have very beginners with intermediate students… and you’re teaching from one book that starts at the beginning with “Hi, my name is Thomas. I am from London.” There is no productive learning going on in these classrooms as far as I can tell.

The students are highly unmotivated because they are either lost as beginners or bored as, what we call in the US “false beginners.” I would be interested to take a survey to question students about their opinions about their English courses.

This is very interesting to me and I have been trying to understand why this backwards situation exists. I have read several articles from foreign language teaching researchers from the mid 80s and it appears that the US was in a very similar position as far as teaching foreign languages was concerned. It might just be that Turkey is 30 years behind the US uni system. They haven’t been convinced of the importance of structuring the foreign language program and I am of the opinion that they really don’t care much about using foreign language as a means of communication.

My students, however, prove that there is a yearning in this country to be able to speak and understand other languages and cultures! These are people who are growing up in a secluded country, but a globalized world. Even Facebook has a pop-song dedicated to it in Turkish! The students are aware of the world outside Turkey, even if their governing education institution seems to ignore it. More and more students want to participate in Eramsus (a European program for exchange students) and must be competent in a foreign language, either of the host country or English, to be able to effectively participate in courses abroad.

When I presented German, French and Spanish along with English, I received a response that was, frankly shocking as I had before been told that the students have no desire to learn those languages. Not only was that a blatant misinformed statement, several of my students are taking multiple languages. I am not hearing the beginnings of Spanish or French or German conversations in the hallways of this tiny under-developed university and it makes me so happy to know that it is because of the hard work that I am putting in to this place.

I recently went on a quest to find materials to teach from as I had only been teaching Turkish style (talking at the students and writing on the whiteboard). At a book market, I was able to find copies of books and workbooks for all 3 GER FRE and SPAN. I was also able to buy 3 grammar books in the respected languages/Turkish so that I know how to explain complex grammar in their first language, something that we do with our American students as well in the first 2 semesters (but only hesitantly as we understand the importance of only using the 2^nd language in a FL classroom). I bartered at the little book market and bought all those books from 91TL (roughly $60) of my own money! I will have a packet created and hopefully get the materials available to my students at under 10TL ~ $6.67.

I am so motivated to continue teach these alternative languages yet my school would rather see me editing papers for publication as it has been brought to my attention that this school has “one of the highest amount of published papers to professors ratio.” I almost burst in anger when I heard that this is what they wanted from me. Helping them publish papers that are worthless for the most part (as a colleague informed me) is NOT going to help the future of my students. I refused and informed that my classes will continue as I have planned. Since they have nothing better for me to do, how can they complain?

I wish I could be welcomed as someone valuable to the school for teaching 4 different languages and 6 different class twice a week for a total of 28 hours of instruction; that’s 8 more hours than required and for every hour of class, up to 3 hours of planning must go into it. I am overworking myself, but as long as students keep coming to my classes, I will continue to share my passion for language. Eventually, it has to catch on!

Saying Goodbye is Never Easy

It has been quite a while since I found time to write for the blog and I do apologize. It has been a whirlwind of a life since I last posted on the 10th of Nov. I will approach this in 4 posts/phases and try to remember to post them in order so that you read them chronologically from top to bottom. This post will talk about the unfortunate circumstances that caused me to return to the States for a week and a half. The other posts will be about the holidays and my teaching.

It is the 29th of December as I am writing this. I can tell you, it feels like much a different time. Two weeks ago I lost someone very dear to me, my Uncle Sam. He meant a lot to me and my sister and I considered him a very strong father-figure in my life. I knew as soon as I heard that his health had taken a dark plunge, that I might face returning to the States. He left us the next day. I awoke to read the message from my sister and immediately set the wheels in motion to return to the States.

It didn’t take any arguing or convincing with my program or my university that I would be leaving within 24hrs. My request was so well received that I was really moved by the Turks (again) for their unconditional generosity. When the Turks find out that there has been a tragedy in someone’s life, they have a saying that translates to something like “May your head be healthy,” meaning they sympathize with the emotions one goes through at times like this. There is a response saying that means something like “Let our friends be healthy,” an acknowledgement of the sympathy. Those phrases are what really define the Turkish culture. Not what FOX news wants you to believe, is it?

I taught my classes on Thursday as usual and then hopped on an 11 hr bus to Istanbul and then began the flight process back to the States. I was very lucky to get an emergency exit seat on the long flight from Istanbul to New York. I was also very prepared for the journey and stopped at the pharmacy in Yozgat to get some sleeping pills. I was shocked to find out 20 pills that were prescription strength cost me $1.75! Yea, social health care really sucks!

I don’t want to go in to long detail about the funeral because we all know how they are. I will like to mention the often overlooked aspect of a death, and that is the ripple effects. My Uncle Sam was a very influential person in his life time. He had gathered a very eclectic group of friends that one might not expect him, a white conservative, hard-working blue collared man, to have. That was my favorite aspect about him- he always played a role, but underneath, he was a very real person who connected with people on the most basic human levels, he was compassionate.

Yes, there is a loss- he is never going to shake my hand in his customary handshake or have funny arguments about FOX news (he was an avid watcher and knew how much I can’t stand it!)- but there is a legacy that will continue. Most importantly, however, deaths remind us of our own mortality and help us to realize the important aspects of life lie within the relationship we harbor with each other, not about petty grudges or material gain.

I was moved more than once on this trip, but when my cousin asked me to be a Pall Bearer for my Uncle Sam, I was shocked and honored. I was reminded that family is family, despite the differences that define us as individuals. I think this reminder helped me to look at the family in a different way, to understand us all.

The most cliché: I wish it were under other circumstances was repeated over and over this past week. I just hope we all can find the right “circumstances” to have such a warm and meaningful reunion, maybe not all together, but on a person to person level.

Where for the Holidays!?

Approaching the holiday season was a little difficult for me because I have the most wonderful holidays in the States with my Champaign family and also with the family at my Uncle Sam’s. This year, I was preparing myself for a blank holiday season. I knew it would be a lot different and had tried to focus on my work and not so much on what I would be missing.

However, for the Muslim holiday of Kurban Bayramı *sacrafice holiday* I planned a trip back to Vienna, Austria with my friend and co-Fulbrighter, Christina. We had both lived and studied abroad there years before. We thought it would be an amazing thing to just go revisit the city.

So when the weekend rolled around, I took a bus out to Istanbul, where I was reunited by several other traveling Fulbrighters. It was really fun to hear all the different stories and experiences- though many were more “bitch-sessions” where we would all talk about the hard positions we have been placed in. However, after a good rant, we all had great stories of success and great times. I was also able to spend some time with my travel partner at the Turkish palace and harem. It was so different from a European castle…it just flew better and was obviously built for comfort more than ceremony.

On the Sunday before we flew out to Vienna, we had a big night out on the town that resulted in a VERY early next morning. We had a shuttle pick us up at our hostel at 7am or so which was tragic since we got back to the hostel around 4:30am! Let’s just say that it was a long difficult road to get from the hostel to the airplane :/ but we were in good spirits because we were going to Vienna!

It is hard for me to describe Vienna. It has a special special place in my heart for some reason. I feel so at home when I walk the streets and interact with the people. Christina was in charge of booking our hostel and she got us a realllly nice one, the Wombat. I recommend it to all! It is close to the main shopping road, across the street from the West Bahnhof (train station/ metro stop) and just a most welcoming place! A lot of my friends in the States don’t know what hostels are and think of that horror movie that came out a few years ago, but they are wonderful. Do your homework, read the reviews and book responsibly to enjoy a cheap way to sleep while traveling!

When we go our stuff unpacked and a little nap out of the way, we were delighted to find the city had turned in to a Christmas wonderland. The whole city was like being inside a snow globe. Yes, it’s kitschy and touristy, but it was great! There were Christmas markets all over with trinkets and hot Glühwein, spiced (mulled) redwine - so nice on a cold night!

We made friends with some people at the hostel and went out one night with them. We were in the Museumsquartier drinking hot wine for a long time. It was magical.

I got to meet up with a couple of friends while there! My friend Dani, a native Austrian who had been at U of I the year before, joined us for some Turkish food as we had to locate the Turks of Vienna out of curiosity.

Speaking of the Turks of Vienna, I was told that of the very large population of Turks in Vienna, some 80% of them come from my area, Yozgat! That is crazy! I also got this number from my former Turkish roommate, Can (Pronounced John). I met up with him after 3 years. He was more than impressed that I could speak his language. We all went out for some Glühwein and a beer. It was with him that I experienced something very interesting… it was the looks I got from others when speaking Turkish. Of course to the untrained ear, I could be speaking gibberish, but I could tell that when people heard me speaking Turkish they acted a little differently and I even got some ugly looks! Just in the few short hours that we were talking in Turkish made me want to return with a more refined Turkish and do a little study on how I would be treated in Vienna as a Turk vs a German speaker. I think I could trick the Viennese to believe I were native enough to come up with some interesting results!

I was also able to reunite with my former Head of Dept. back at UIUC. She and a few other profs were in Vienna coincidentally at the same time for a seminar, also coincidentally, put on by Fulbright. I got to have dinner with them and discuss my endeavors here in Turkey. Small world J

Christina and I spent many magical moments in Vienna and were sad to leave. Some of our moments we shared together, though, were hilarious. We noted how ruled-oriented the Viennese are vs the Turks. The concept of waiting for a pedestrian light was almost ridiculous to the both of us as in Turkey you look twice and RUN!!! We also had a big laugh when we were walking around late and came on a place where we thought we would have to make a little jump only to find the clever Viennese had put a small step… something that would NOT exist in Turkey. We laughed about it!

We got back to Istanbul to have a few more great moments there. It was sad to part. I doubt that will be the last time we travel together this year!! Before going back to Yozgat I had the opportunity to attend a Beşiktaş soccer game. That is one of the 3 main teams- all of them from Istanbul. The team actually lost based on some really bad officiating. The crowd definitely let them know how they felt at the end when they were throwing anything and everything that wasn’t attached onto the field! Good times.

A Very Happy Thanksgiving!

A week after the Muslim holiday was Thanksgiving. So I put on my traveling clothes again, but this time just to Ankara. I got there on Wed. so I could skate on Thursday and Friday. I ended up only skating Thursday because I was soo sore! I stayed with a couple of the Fulbright girls at Brad’s, a foreign rep. in Turkey who deals a lot with us Fulbrighters. We had a mini Thanksgiving Thursday night with him and his family.

Then on Friday we went to have Thanksgiving with Martha, a US English Language Fellow, not officially affiliated with the Fulbright program, but has a tie to the one here in Turkey. She is somewhat of an advisor to us who have problems or need help, especially with teaching. She’s great fun and has a little apartment in Ankara that is open to us whenever we need it. I used it one weekend when I wanted to go to Ankara just to skate. So nice!

She was putting on a Thanksgiving for the people she works with. It was a rather formal event and she wanted everything perfect, so I helped J Coming from the hospitality industry, my secret when I am with academics hehe, I knew exactly how to handle the table set ups and oversaw that it was nice! That was fun. There were some funny parts about the meal cuz they served the dessert with the salads! This led to some people mistakenly eating ONLY pie for Thanksgiving dinner. I think it was an overall success for Martha.

The next day we had Thanksgiving for all the local Fulbrighters back at Brad’s place. The three girls, Hayfa, Rachel,Natasha and I were busy busy bees in the kitchen all day. It was so nice to be able to use a fully equipped kitchen to create fun holiday things. We baked lots of pie, helped out with the side dishes, and prepared the house for a lot of guests. Finally when everyone arrived, it was like the family had come home. So many hugs and SO much food oh and there was wine J. We had a great time with stories and eating and even some dancing hehe…I think that came from the wine. After the dinner a lot of us went out and that was a good time. It was sad to leave everyone, but Christmas wasn’t too far away.