Monday, January 22, 2007
Here are three pictures of Silas in our neighborhood. This first is a taxi stand about 100 yards from our apartment building. The drivers hang out in the little white building until a customer comes along.
Silas at the fish/fruit market across the street from the mosque. The man to the left was trying to get Silas to hold some bananas for the picture, and Silas doing his best to ignore him.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
On Wednesday the ruling party in Turkey proposed a change that received frontpage news - eliminate the wording that states only women can become nurses. While males have held nursing jobs here, they have been given another title.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Everyone has bad days, but sometimes the bad days here are amplified because of the differences. You name it - bureaucracy, lazy students, the power going out, the children not being the perfect people we want them to be, the cold, etc. - whatever brings you down, take that and throw in another element that is hard to define, but has to do with being out of your element or in a foreign culture, and know that not everything is always great here. In fact, there are some really down times.
At the same time, I always know this is temporary - more temporary than troubles in the US. I mean, I'm leaving in six or seven months. Whatever happens with teaching, the apartment, trying to do something in the neighborhood, etc., it will all change soon enough. Not many people ever are in that situation. It's somewhat liberating, and certainly helps at the low points.
The high points don't have to be spectacular, either. A few Fridays ago I got back from a late hockey practice, and everyone was asleep. It was below freezing out, but I was still warm from having showered, and I was hanging my hockey equipment on the balcony. Everything was silent, and Ankara, or at least my neighborhood in view, looked peaceful and beautiful. A large sliver of moon was out, and I stood there looking out on the lights and apartments without a jacket, just looking. I could have stayed out longer, but knew I had a good Graham Greene book waiting for me, a borrowed mini-heater next to the bed to make it toasty warm, and it was late enough that I could turn on the light and not wake Silvia. Simple pleasures, but it was enough for me to remember that scene now. At times like that I also realize how lucky I am to have the opportunity to be here.
While most days are somewhat routine, the last 36 hours were extra busy for me - a 10:30 pm hockey practice Thursday night, then teaching (including covering two classes for an ill teacher). Then I stayed after school and at five o'clock played basketball and went indoor rock-climbing at the university gym with four other faculty. Finally, at 11:30 pm another hockey practice (we spent half of the practice scrimmaging, but with the range of abilities, and no one wearing any equipment other than gloves and skates, it's as close to pond hockey as I've been since a teen; it's also a great group - we spend as much time laughing as anything else. I'm so grateful for the chance to just laugh outloud over the most inane, harmless things with a bunch of like-minded people). I usually don't do so much physical activity in such a short time, but when the opportunities comes up I take them.
One of our ice hockey practice players, Brandon, was leaving today to return to the US. He had only been here one semester, and told me he felt it was too short - just long enough to get to know people, and then it was time to leave. That's also why I feel fortunate; I have time to do more than most travelers. Also, Brandon would be back in New Hamshire or Connecticut or whereever Sunday, and that would take some transitioning too. For everything that drives me crazy or angers me here, I also know there will be so much to miss, and even after a week it will be hard to recapture what I experience here at times.
Today I walked with Silas to get some pictures developed (transfered from memory stick to prints). I walked in to a small shop and showed the stick to the proprietor, who gave me a nod, but then a casual shrug and pointed to the lights, which weren't working. The power on the street was out. No problem, I conveyed to him, I'd just walk up the street a ways, and be back later. There was no real concern over the power being cut, or loss of business, or the need to SELL something that I feel so much in the US. It's so refreshing and relaxing at the same time.
I've needed to get a haircut for awhile, so went up three storefronts to the barbershop where Silas had previously had his hair cut. There was enough light inside for a haircut, and I was offered tea. The barber kept cutting my hair until it was ready, but then stopped and waited while I drank it wrapped in my smock. The barber followed up the tea by bringing out a pack of cigarettes, and offering me one, but I of course declined. Still, the thought was nice.
At the same time, I always know this is temporary - more temporary than troubles in the US. I mean, I'm leaving in six or seven months. Whatever happens with teaching, the apartment, trying to do something in the neighborhood, etc., it will all change soon enough. Not many people ever are in that situation. It's somewhat liberating, and certainly helps at the low points.
The high points don't have to be spectacular, either. A few Fridays ago I got back from a late hockey practice, and everyone was asleep. It was below freezing out, but I was still warm from having showered, and I was hanging my hockey equipment on the balcony. Everything was silent, and Ankara, or at least my neighborhood in view, looked peaceful and beautiful. A large sliver of moon was out, and I stood there looking out on the lights and apartments without a jacket, just looking. I could have stayed out longer, but knew I had a good Graham Greene book waiting for me, a borrowed mini-heater next to the bed to make it toasty warm, and it was late enough that I could turn on the light and not wake Silvia. Simple pleasures, but it was enough for me to remember that scene now. At times like that I also realize how lucky I am to have the opportunity to be here.
While most days are somewhat routine, the last 36 hours were extra busy for me - a 10:30 pm hockey practice Thursday night, then teaching (including covering two classes for an ill teacher). Then I stayed after school and at five o'clock played basketball and went indoor rock-climbing at the university gym with four other faculty. Finally, at 11:30 pm another hockey practice (we spent half of the practice scrimmaging, but with the range of abilities, and no one wearing any equipment other than gloves and skates, it's as close to pond hockey as I've been since a teen; it's also a great group - we spend as much time laughing as anything else. I'm so grateful for the chance to just laugh outloud over the most inane, harmless things with a bunch of like-minded people). I usually don't do so much physical activity in such a short time, but when the opportunities comes up I take them.
One of our ice hockey practice players, Brandon, was leaving today to return to the US. He had only been here one semester, and told me he felt it was too short - just long enough to get to know people, and then it was time to leave. That's also why I feel fortunate; I have time to do more than most travelers. Also, Brandon would be back in New Hamshire or Connecticut or whereever Sunday, and that would take some transitioning too. For everything that drives me crazy or angers me here, I also know there will be so much to miss, and even after a week it will be hard to recapture what I experience here at times.
Today I walked with Silas to get some pictures developed (transfered from memory stick to prints). I walked in to a small shop and showed the stick to the proprietor, who gave me a nod, but then a casual shrug and pointed to the lights, which weren't working. The power on the street was out. No problem, I conveyed to him, I'd just walk up the street a ways, and be back later. There was no real concern over the power being cut, or loss of business, or the need to SELL something that I feel so much in the US. It's so refreshing and relaxing at the same time.
I've needed to get a haircut for awhile, so went up three storefronts to the barbershop where Silas had previously had his hair cut. There was enough light inside for a haircut, and I was offered tea. The barber kept cutting my hair until it was ready, but then stopped and waited while I drank it wrapped in my smock. The barber followed up the tea by bringing out a pack of cigarettes, and offering me one, but I of course declined. Still, the thought was nice.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
The family (minus Mara behind the camera) - notice Silvia's headscarf.
Elli Sol, Mara and Silas Miguel waiting to open their Christmas presents (on the morning of the 24th, since I had to work and Mara had school on the 25th).
Mara took this picture of us in front of the "fireplace" (afterall, Santa had to get in somehow). Notice the homemade stockings.
Silas Miguel (oops, you caught me)and Elli Sol (it's too early) coloring.
