Bu Benim Annem

On the 28^th of March, my mother graced me with her presence in this great Nation. It was much needed, much appreciated and greatly enjoyed by both parties. A hug from your mother is one of the things in life that you do not appreciate until it is gone. And also, being able to speak in Nottingham English at an incredibly fast pace whilst being understood is one of the things in life you do not appreciate until it’s taken away.  U get me bra. Brap.

Istanbul

It began in Africa Istanbul. No matter how many times I visit Istanbul it still takes my breath away. It is my favourite city in the world. The sprawling mess of the skyline makes me smile, and reminds me of the relaxed Turkish approach to everything, including city planning. The fact that it stretches over two continents, with thousands of years of history is evident in every street you walk down.  The fact that a woman wearing a Burka can walk alongside a woman wearing a leather mini skirt, arm in arm reminds me of Turkeys amazing diversity.  If you haven’t been – go.

I was excited to show my Mum the country that I have been calling home for 8 months.  And Istanbul was a great place to start. As I was waiting for my luggage from my domestic flight (which was the 14^th flight I had taken this year – pretty good for someone scared of flying and apparently someone who cares about the environment. Sorry trees) I could see my Mum through the automatic doors which kept opening and closing in a teasing manner. The women next to me was laughing at both our manic waving and kiss blowing whenever the doors allowed us to see each other.  Finally, my suitcase arrived and I was free to go and give her the biggest hug ever!

Now, because I work at the Turkish Parliament we were allowed to stay at the Parliamentary residencies in Istanbul. This was amazing. It was located slap bang in the middle of Besiktas (the previously Royal neighbourhood – that is 5 minutes walk from Taksim Square) I felt pretty good flashing my Parliamentary ID whilst walking in to the place. The only problem was the lack of English Spoken, and of course the real problem here is my embarrassingly shocking lack of Turkish, but we’ll ignore that. This created some interesting experiences. Our room was very hot (I don’t think I could keep count the amount of times Mother Bear told me she was “so hot”… Think she was hot though?) and so I forced Mum to get them to sort it out. She used google translate as a medium of translation… and at one point the man in reception typed in “Can I invite a friend to the situation?” Which obviously, is hilarious. And so a friend was invited to the situation, and he came and fiddled with our pipes (oioi) At one point I heard him say (in Turkish) “The English and all their fucking problems.” No way to speak to a member of the TBMM but, I will let it slide as I show compassion for the mere commoners I represent…  

However, I now have Turkish Parliament slippers, shampoo, soap, cottonbuds and a selection of teas. Thanks Attaturk.

It was also fun helping Dr. Stan adapt to Istanbul traffic and Turkish street crossing skills. This has come as second nature to me now, and sometimes I surprise myself with my courage. She spent a lot of the time clung to my arm as we weaved through the crowds. It is odd how you adapt to little things and take things for granted, like the sound of the call to Prayer. When I first moved to this country the call the prayer would always stop me in my tracks, and remind me that I wasn’t at home. Now I sometimes don’t even notice it.  It was so nice to be able to be reminded of these little things that I now take for granted. For example, the Smit stands that are dotted on every street, and the freshly squeezed orange juice sold at all the Kiosks (of BOOOFS.. Bufe.. as Mum kept calling them.) and the Midye (Cold Mussels, stuffed with rice and herbs and sold on every street, especially at night time.)

We visited the Bastille Cistern,  Topaki Palace, The Aya Sofia, The Blue Mosque and all the other standard tourist stuff. If you don’t know what they are educate yourself and then come back to me.  It was nice to visit Sultanahmet without having your 31 one year old boyfriend telling you what he would do if he was playing Assassins Creed.  We visited the Grand Bazar, which was accompanied by a lot of “Are you sisters” “Are you angels?” “Lady, I am here” and also involved me haggling a bag down from 375 Lira to 120 (in Turkish. Tabii ki) and then not buying it. Apparently this proves that I am fully culturally integrated.  The weather was beautiful during our visit, which meant we were lucky enough to enjoy the sun in some of Istanbul’s parks. We found the sweetest çay bahçesi (tea garden) snuggled in the corner of a park next to Sultanahment. We ordered a pot and sat and watched the ferries crossing from continent to continent. It would have been perfect if it wasn’t for some dickhead group of Australian women talking about how having kids “was on their to do list” and other pretentious and ridiculous comments. “You know.. I just couldn’t cope if my baby wasn’t perfect.” Have a word with yourself woman. I hate you.

We also visited the New Mosque, and of course had Balik-Ekmek (fish sandwiches) from Eminou. We climbed the Galata tower and saw about 11 mosques all performing Adhan simultaneously wish was a pretty incredible experience.  This was followed by seeing an Italian that looked exactly like my Dad, and then seeing a Bride just mincing the streets in bright red sunglasses. Equally as incredible I am sure you will agree.  On the next day, we minced to Ortakoy to enjoy Kumpir near the Bosphorus bridge. Kumpir is Turkish jacket potato, stuffed with all sorts from tapenade, to sweetcorn to ketchup. It is wicked. The only thing is they do not eat the skin and always take it from me when I try and eat the skin. Ortakoy is a neighbourhood near Besiktas which is frequented by locals, it is famous due to the fact you have the contrast of the Ortakoy Mosque in front of the modern bridge. However, the Mosque was under renovation of course. We then took the ferry over to Asia, and walked the streets of Kadikoy. Now, as Ankara is significantly less Westernised than Istanbul is – the only thing I was craving was to eat anything BUT Turkish food. Mother had other ideas but humoured me with a plate of chips and an Efes.

Istanbul treated us incredibly well, and we drank enough cay to last us for the whole trip. However, it had only just begun………

DRAMATIC PAUSE.

We took a flight back to Ankara which involved a Taxi driver that looked like Tarkan and me realizing that I am still scared of flying. Mother Bear came to my flat, which, although she did a good job hiding it, she was not impressed with. It was nice to show her where I live though, and to make her more part of my reality here. We went to my local Pide joint for dinner, where I take all my honoured guests when I’m feeling lazy. I explained to my friends (the waiters) that my mother was visiting me in Turkey, and they were very happy to hear it. MB tried Iskander for the first time or…. Turkish…. Yoghurt…. Kebab and loved it. She amused the waiters when she screamed “DROGBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAA” at the top of her lungs whilst doing a funny little dance when Didier came on the screen. Funny because she isn’t particularly a fan of Galatasary or of Drogba. She spent the night in my amazingly comfy and luxurious bed (feels like sleeping on a sack of potatoes) and then we were off again!

Kappodokya

The following morning, we were off on our second leg of the grand tour. After a very early start, we arrived at ASTI. (Ankara’s main bus terminal – the size of which exemplifies how many people want to get away from Ankara at all times) Just to remind you, hardly anybody speaks English in Ankara, let alone ASTI and so it is always fun. With blearly eyes I tried to find out where the hell we could get tickets from. After a lot of too’ing and fro’ing and being stared at by men with moustaches for being the token white girl, I figured out which platform to go too. Sorry sorry, WE figured out which platform to go too. (a joke specifically for Postman Tim/Papa Stannard)

Aboard the bus MB was very impressed with the Turkish way of coach travel. Again, this is something I had grown accustomed too. Every coach has a boy/man/once I saw a woman that comes round and serves tea, and cake, and water and juice and sandwiches and hand wipes and perfumes etc during the journey. MB was very impressed with his “magic box” which he kept producing bottles of drink from. I told her I thought the magic box would be better used as a toilet, but she was sold by the mere idea of the magic box.

After 5 hours on the coach we finally made it to Nevisehir, the city of Cappadoccia. Things were already starting to get a little dusty and look a little bit like Starwars so I knew we were in the right place. After boarding a very full Dolmus we were on our way to Goreme – the main hub of Cappodocia. As we drove through the amazing landscape it was so lovely to see the excitement spread of Dr.Lu’s face – “it’s amazing” she kept saying but I was too busy thinking about how much my shoulder hurt. It really hurt. We were dropping off in Goreme, and quickly collected by the Hotels porter – Emre. Emre was very impressed that I lived in Turkey, although he kept reminding me how bad my Turkish was. Our hotel was really lovely, with a chic Ottoman design and rooms that were built to resemble the caves that Cappodocia was famous for. They also had really cute bars of soap which we stole loads of.

TOP CAPPADOCCIA MOMENTS

1)      The time we went to the Open Air Museum in Goreme, I smacked my head on a huge rock and an old Italian man laughed for about 7 hours at my expense.

2)      Meeting an old man when we got lost in Pigeon Valley, who led us back to the right track and then wouldn’t let us go until we gave him “jigerettes” that we did not have.

3)      HASAN! The best thing to ever happen. Hiking through one of the valleys we bumped into Hassan, and his tea garden. Surprisingly, Hasan spoke perfect English. He told us he lives in the valley in the summer to get away from his 4 wives who are constantly arguing. He was very impressed I lived in Turkey. He also made us play a turkey related quiz – in which we received Turtles made of stones for our prizes, key rings and postcards. I won a bonus prize for guessing his age was 25.

4)      Walking in Love Valley, where the rocks looked like huge erections. Meeting a village woman who made us some lovely tea, and then bumping into a lonesome French woman who said  “it was vairrr erroteeeek ‘round here non?”

5)      Being told we walk like South Africans? What does that even mean?

6)      Having the best meal and the best home made wine imaginable.

7)      Mum being referred to as “Crazy Anne” by the Hotel staff as  she was drunk and insisted on placing loads of bets on the football

8)      Being invited to watch the Galatasary match with the waiters of the restaurant we ate in.

9)      Watching the horse who was doing gross tourist rides, be followed by her tiny foal, and then the foal being followed by a stray dog. Literally the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Cappadocia treated us very well, and created some memories that will never be forgotten.

Back to Ankara.

We were to spend the last few days in Ankara, being hosted by my lovely Turkish Family. This was a bit of a strange but amazing experience for me, having my surrogate family meet my real one. We exchanged presents from England, had lots of imported Merlot and had lovely chats. We visited the Parliament (my office) the Hamam (of which I am not a regular, and have my own personal massuse who I think has the hots for me) and the very limited sites and sounds of Ankara.

Having my mother coming to visit me was a lovely experience. It was so nice for her to see what my reality has been for 8 months, meet my closest friends and experience a limited snippet of Turkish life. It was awful to say goodbye, and the departure was very tearful (and even more upsetting for me as I had sat on a water bottle and my arse was really wet)

"With that many Kilos it may be dangerous"

1) Working at the Turkish Parliament is a hoot it seems. Especially when you have no idea what anyone is saying around you. Every week I have atleast one awkward run in with either security  or somebody famous (who I don't realize they're famous until afterwards.) Usually this occurs in a lift (or elevator to my international comrades) which intensifies the awkwardness. I am learning that laughing and trying to give my best puppy dog eyes usually acts as an alkaline to such experiences. "Ben Erasmus" doesn't seem to have such effect outside the gates of ODTU.

As I have mentioned previously, I chair the English Speaking Club at Parliament. This week we have been discussing the duties and the limitations of the Parliament. Now, Turkish people really struggle to pronounce the "th" sound. This is something I can relate to, as not only can I not pronounce absolutely anything in Turkish, but I too have struggled with the perils of "th" in my time.. memories of Year 4, in which I was made to stand in-front of the class for atleast 15 minutes until I correctly pronounced "Three"  - whilst my bible bashing tyrant of a teacher stood in-front of me spraying saliva into my 8 year old chubby face as he tried to "teach" me. Anyhow.. it is a tricky sound to make. Alors, today in our discussion we were reading about the "Oath Taking" of deputies.. or the "Oat Taking" of deputies...

"The plenary convenes at 3pm on the fifth day following the announcement of the final results of a parliamentary election on Turkish Radio and Television chanels...

In this sitting, first an oat-taking ceremony is conducted by each deputy. Deputies who are unable to attend the oat-taking ceremony shall take the oat at the beginning of the first sitting in which they participate. Deputies take the oat by reading out the text in the Constitution from the rostrum. "

Now, in my imagination all I could think of was a parliamentary system who were seriously concerned with their cereals. Oat-Tastic. DemOATcratic and not TOATalitarian. ElectOATral system. COATmissions. I could go on.. Anyhow, these thoughts and cereal-related puns led me to  have an  in-explainable and quite uncontrollable laughing fit in the middle of our session. High in fibre, but not in professionalism it seems. 

2) Bora - my Turkish.. son? brother? I'm not sure how to explain my relation to him, but anyhow...
Road safety is definitely not a concern in Turkey. Trying to cross the road in any circumstance needs a strong instinct, a poker face and a certain level of dexterity. Red lights are hardly ever obeyed... and pedestrian crossings are simply ignored. You need conviction and determination as a pedestrian, and you can basically do what the fuck you want as a driver. As a passenger is it best just to hold on tight and hope for the best. My turkish family always have a good belly laugh as soon as I get in the car and strap my seatbelt round me. Seem to think it's hilarious that I take my personal safety so seriously. (little did they know that the weight of a person is multiplied by 2O times in a high speed car crash.. if so I'll be the last one laughing... or not.)
Anyhow, Bora - whom is 8 years old and whom cannot speak any English (we have a fun relationship of teaching each other the names of animals in our languages) is often quite fascinated with what I do. He saw me put my seatbelt on and decided to do the same. However, he has never worn a seatbelt in his life. Thus, he took the drivers seat's belt - and plugged it into his socket. He looked confused as the belt just missed him completely, and then tried to slot himself in the gap. Still didn't work. He looked at me with anguish - and tried again - this time rotating his head at a very uncomfortable angle.. still it did not work. Eventually  - I showed him how he too could be as secure looking as I did - and put HIS seatbelt around him - and the rest of the journey he sat looking very very very smug with a huge grin on his face.

3) Watching The OC with a Syrian. Always. Particularly when they skip every scene that has Julie Cooper in it because they don't like her eyes... and especially when they ask "Why does Seth have to choose between Summer and Anna - he could have them both ... and two more?"

4) Having to pretend to be married to said Syrian whenever you go to the market, to avoid bum grabbing, overpricing and not accidentally buying 3 bananas for about 70TL.

Just a short update this time, mainly to discuss the political nature of oats. Tune in next time to hear all about Mama Stannards visit to the land of karpuz bebeks

Meanwhile, in Britain:

http://www.romfordrecorder.co.uk/news/house_fire_started_by_a_squirrel_disrupts_funeral_procession_through_romford_1_1984461

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-edinburgh-east-fife-21858305

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-essex-21923218

görüşürüz bebekler.

Wicked rahat yok

Nearly a month without a blogpost is not what us edgy, indie bloggers do – apologies for that. I have been positively rushed off my feet this past weeks, starting lessons, travelling, sorting the world out step by step in the Turkish parliament, being a born natural at Turkish folk dancing, tidying my room every minute to trash it the next, losing my purse, finding my purse, breaking my phone, getting a new phone etc etc..

We shall divide this blog post systematically to create the highest level of entertainment; reader enjoyment marbled with cultural insights.  As Julie Andrews once said, let’s start at the very beginning – a very good place to start.

1     CHRONOLOGICALLY THEMED  TRAVELLING.

1)Cappadoccia. Kapadokya. Land of The Beautiful Horses.  (21^st-23rd of February) 

Finally, after months and months of promising to visit Cappadocia, I became successful in my mission. This was extremely lucky as only 12 people were allowed to go on the trip – and my name was chosen on the 4^th drawer. Meeting at a bar at 1am is always a promising start to any trip. After a very very punctual get away, in consideration of Turkish time, we were on our way. I think finally I have mastered sleeping on buses now due to the habitual process that is has become. Arriving at 6 am, the 50 students and I were pretty exhausted. (Especially considering the night before I had not got home until gone 5am)

Our hotel was pretty incredible, a thermal spa which was greatly appreciated. (we paid 110TL liras for the whole trip, inclusive of food, travel and hotel – this is roughly 38 pounds. Kaching!)
Cappadocia is an amazing place; but is best to be expressed in pictures – for this reason – Enjoy!



2) Amasra – The Black Sea. (1^st-3^rd of March)

The plan was to hitchhike. The reality was backing out at the very last moment and catching the bus. The weekend however, was incredible. The Black Sea was somewhere I had always wanted to see, but it was well worth the wait. Imagine looking to your left to sea crystal blue seas, and turning to your right to see luscious green rolling hills. This best describes the beauty of Amasra – a small fishing town nestled in the mountains. The best thing was, you could tell how geared up this town was for tourism, and how insanely busy it would have been come the Summer – but we were the only tourists there. After hunting (or pretending to hunt, realistically going into two hotels and settling on the second one) a hotel, we settled in for a very nice price of 45TL per room at a small family run hotel, whom had to heat the hot water with a clay oven downstairs. The Turkish people from the north famously have blue eyes, and longer faces. Our hosts were no exception, one of them was definitely a silver fox with amazing blue eyes. Just felt the need to add that bit of detail.
That evening we waited for the boys that has hitchhiked from Ankara up to the coast, it took them 7 hours, 4 cars, 2 busses, 2 minibusses and 4 lira but they made it in one piece, with an adventure under their belt.

That night we decided to sample the local cuisine. The black sea is famous for it’s fish – particularly Hampsie – a small, sardine type fish with a delicious flavour. Kind of like mackerel but a lot more intense and a lot more delicious. The area is also famous for its salads. Of course, any fish dish MUST be accompanied by Raki. But perhaps not as much Raki as we decided to drink. The less raki was left in the bottle, the louder the conversation got. At about 1am we were asked to leave and stumble back to the hotel.

In the morning, with sore heads to nurse we went for a stroll along the harbour and found a little breakfast shack – manned by two old women cooking Turkish breakfast. For 10 liras we were treated to a home cooked delight, which we had to help cook at one point due to too many people being in the hut. With full bellies we went for a mince along the shore and to do some rock climbing. Now, for those who know me – you will know that I am not particularly dexterous on my feet, I should not be trusted to climb rocks (or bang 7g rocks like Charlie Sheen.) However, I did relatively well and managed to impress my self, not others, but myself with my level of dexterity. After a lazy lunch, a lot of admiring the beauty and a Turkish coffee we climbed up the hill – and this happened.. I don’t need to say anymore….

That evening me and Maiju – my new roommate for this semester, who is Finnish and also wicked (she just walked in my room with a carton and cherry juice and a chocolate that she had bought for me. Nuff Said. Babe) met for a beer with her friends. We seem to have fallen into the habit of accidently going to the same places at the same time completely coincidentally. Both accidently stalking each other. Apres ca, we went to eat. Sultan – my Turkish friend who came on the trip with me had arranged for her and the boys to eat a very special meat stew cooked for 7 hours in a stone oven. I had pide. I always have Pide. I have such a love hate relationship with Pide. I will be happy if I never see another Pide again when I leave this country. Pide. Pide. Pide. Pide var mu? Yok.

After once more drinking too much Raki, staying out late and Turkish dancing, we awoke with sore heads once more. We decided to head to Safronbolu on the way home – a picturesque Ottoman town snuggled in the Bolu valley. A postcard village. After a very precarious Dolmus ride – seriously whizzing round the mountains with about 60 people on a 12 seater, we arrived in the little town. Unfortunately we had not planned it very well, as we only had a few hours or so until the bus back to Ankara. We managed to walk around, see some sights, buy some trinkets and enjoy a home cooked meal.  We also got to meet a little old man who worked in the old clock tower of the former ottoman castle. We  climbed the stairs to see him waiting for his, he was like something out of a fairytale and knew everything there was too know about clocks. We arrived back into Ankara at 10pm after a weekend of very little sleep, and a whole bus journey of convincing Jonas that we had to change buses again (we had taken about 7 busses this day and the novelty had well and truly ran out.) For the first time, as we drove in to Ankara – it genuinely felt like home.

Eskisehir (Saturday 16^th – 17^th March)

This weekend just gone I joined the ESN trip to Eskisehir. After being massively delayed by the Irish and the Italians (as always) we were on our way. The weather massively sucked, but the city was pretty nice – with a population of almost 85% students, completely made that up for dramatic effect, but you catch my drift. After a rather wet and rainy and surreal and cold day of walking round a childrens playground, playing on a pirate ship and having an umbrella destroyed, it was time to get drunk. After I have been drinking a little bit I find it very hard to control my “englishisms”. Example; I was sharing my room with my friend Jannet – and I had sneaked some Rum into to the hotel. When pouring said Rum I told Jannet to “say when” to which she replied… What? .. Me: When… J: What? Me…. Is this not enough? Say when when it is…. Jannet: What?! 
The night involved an actual night club, which was a refreshing break from the shitholes in Ankara, with good DJs and not terrible live bands. It also involved a lot of drunk shenanigans, the best of which was Yanki after finally getting a drink immediately dropping it. We woke up in the morning with definitely people that were not originally sleeping in our room, a huge tree that had been stolen form the Lobby and placed in the Corridor. 

 Cat eating ruffles

 Kumpir Centre.

Professional Life

As you may be aware, I am now participating in an Internship and the Turkish Parliament. I am the first ever international student to partake in an internship at the parliament, and as a result I am a bit of a celebrity. When I walk around people notice a) that I am white and b) I do not speak Turkish – luckily they do not perceive me as any form of threat but instead embrace this foreigner in a suit and make me feel very important. I still feel like I am cheating somehow when I wear a suit, and I think I look absolutely ridiculous pretending to be professional. Yesterday I put on my suit trousers to realize the seam has broken right at the top of ass. Luckily I did realize this before setting out for work. Officially, I am working for the Law and Resolution Department, aiding the direction of bills to select committees and helping with setting the agenda for the proceedings of Parliament. I also have had the opportunity to spend my afternoons with said Select committees. Last week I was discussing with a specialist on Human Rights – and how they process Human Rights appeals. It was interesting to learn that the majority of cases come from prisons in Turkey, so much so there is even its own sub committee to deal with said problem. I was allowed to read some of the appeals that had been made and processed. I was lucky enough to meet the High Comissoner, who I very awkwardly smiled at and even did a little courtesy which I don’t really know where came from.  The most surreal thing is, my knowledge of Turkish politics and political actors is still weak. I have found myself having lunch with the President of the Turkish Plenary without even realizing who he is until afterwards (fyi: he gave me a chunk of his apple and winked at me) I am quite literally rubbing shoulders with big names and I don’t even know. Regardless, it is invaluable experience and I can feel my confidence growing every day. Particularly in the English Speaking sessions I… that I run actually… I have silenced someone with a PHD in macroeconomics because “I have not finished speaking” and I am only 21.

Other shit

1)      Water has been an ongoing theme for me in the last few weeks. Firstly, we had no hot water in the apartment – and I had to find salvage by just going to the swimming pool in order to use the hot water there afterwards. However, now we are like children in Sub Saharian Africa when a pump is installed, and we can frolic in our hot water with ease. To add to this, we now also have A HUGE BOTTLE OF WATER WITH A PUMP THAT IS DELIVERED TO THE FLAT. This was such exciting news that Maiju decided to open the door whilst I was showering to inform me of such news.

2)      It turns out that I am acutally pretty wicked at Turkish Folk Dancing.

3)      I tried to learn Karate but decided trying to do so in a foreign language is impossible.

4)      Today I spent my lunch time learning the Persian Alphabet

5)      I attended the ODTU Fenerbahce Societies annual Raki drinking ceremony – and it was freakin awesome.

6)      My purse was stolen from my bag (or shall we say my wallet – as I have learned “purse” is not understood in continental English and causes mass amount of confusion) and everything taken. I have been living on handouts for two weeks now and I am down to my last 20 lira. However, a mere waitor found my cards scattered along the streets in a rough area of Ankara called Gebaci, in which he found my parliamentarian business cards and contacted the Parliament. We were able to retrieve almost everything. Faith in humanity restored, I love the Turkish.

7)      It is week 5 of classes and I am yet to pick up a single book

8)      I attended the Turkish Parliament annual concert – in which Semra performed in. See Video. It was amazing.

9)      Technology is still not advanced enough to talk to my boyfriend, who I now haven’t had a conversation with that lasted more than 4 minutes for about 3 weeks.

10)   We held our first party at the flat. Random Egyptians came, Rafay smashed the toilet door’s glass panel, I can’t remember getting home, but generally it was a great success and finally all the dried chickpeas we had bought by mistake were eaten.

11)    I am finally, after 7 months able to play a worthy game of Tavla

12)   The weather is insane, with 25 degree sandstorms one day, and snow the next. There is blossom but it is still -4 at night. I think generally, it is a bit confused.

13)   I understood my first joke in Turkish. And this is my proudest achievement to date.