Footnotes

It's not really much different than anyplace else here, save a few cultural niceties, consumer brands, local cuisine, and so on. People are people wherever you go; only the minor things change. I'm not saying this place isn't unique - I assure you, it is - but I'm talking about the quotidian; once you get used to things, the similarities of daily life around the world outnumber the differences. Nonetheless, Turkey, like everywhere else, has its own unexpected peculiarities and other oddities that make you scratch your head in bewilderment.

Television is a good gauge of local culture and language any place you go, and you would be surprised how much of the language you can learn if you watch a few hours of TV a day with a dictionary in hand. I think I'm lucky to have a television in my place (rabbit-eared, of course) that receives a fair amount of channels. All are in Turkish, but luckily they have CNBC here, and at night they play American television shows subtitled in Turkish, which is good (a regular dose of American culture is nothing to complain about), and every Sunday night at 10 they have been playing all the Star Wars movies with subtitles (someone really is looking out for me).
The Turkish television shows are certainly very interesting. It goes without saying the quality is poor, although the acting can be quite good, which is a saving grace. Soap operas are popular.
But it is clear from the television shows that Turks have a lust for violence. Almost all of the TV shows (even the soap operas) involve a cheaply shot gun battle of some kind; if someone doesn't die, then at least several people get shot. Domestic violence is sparse, but nonetheless graphically represented at times in certain shows. But don't assume it is a misogynistic soceity; in one show, a woman, fighting with a rebel group of men in the east of the country, relishes ambushing army soldiers and torturing captives.
Shows about police and the military are especially popular, naturally because of this thirst for exciting violence. Because of the political situation in the east of the country, where Kurdish nationalists are attempting to establish their own state, shows about the military battling Kurdish terrorists and rebels are wildly popular. Tek Türkiye (One Turkey) is one show of this genre, and I can't tell if it is so popular because Turks enjoy the gun battles and betrayals, or if they like seeing Kurds crushed (they really don't like them).
Another peculiar thing about television shows here, in a country where 70% of the male population smokes, is the government's lame attempt to censor cigarette smoking on TV. Smoking is now banned in public buildings here, and you won't see it in the domestic television shows, but when they play an old movie or foreign show or film, any cigar, cigarette, or other tobacco product is blurred or covered up by a cartoon flower. Kind of reminds me of when you see old 60's and 70's B movies on TV back home and they blur or cover nude genitalia with a similar brigtly colored object. You can only shake your head in bewilderment.

There's something to be said about the bathrooms here. The traditional Turkish or Asian toilet is a shallow porcelain bowl in the floor with a hole and is corrugated on each side for traction when you squat to do your business, and there is usually a spigot wıth a bucket you use to wash it down with. This is the standard in public toilets, and in some public buildings (there are two in the men's bathroom where I work). I can't vouch for the practicality or comfort (or lack of) of this type of toilet because I have been afraid to use one, as I imagine it to be a quite messy affair. Luckily, in modern times Turkey has discovered a western style toilet, and although it is more comfortable and most likely more sanitary, it is horrifyingly similar to a German toilet. Those who know what that is like are probably shaking their heads along with me right now.

Another thing is gypsys. We are all familiar with horrible stereotype which never fails to reinforce itself. However, unlike their theiving mongrel kin of Central and Eastern Europe, the gypsys here are honest, hardworking people and are quite pleasant. Cankurtaran, where I live, is primarily a gypsy neighborhood, and the people are courteous and honest - they won't fleece me for the dish soap. And they are less interested in me than the Turks; on the tram, Turks stare, but when I go home, nobody is interested. Indeed, to a Turk it's not the gypsys you need to worry about picking your pocket on the tram, but the Kurds, the scourge of modern Turkey. A few days ago, my friend Aladdin lost his keys, and he swore menacingly that it was the Kurdish people who stole his keys from his pocket simply for the 6 lira deposit on the Akbil (a metal bead on a key ring that functions like a MetroCard) as he rode the tram home.

Money is funny here. With an average inflation rate of 38% per year in the latter part of last century, $1 was roughly equal to 1.35 million lira in 2004. This means that Turks, over time, became used to large numbers in business transactions, and even today an older shopkeeper will tell you your total in millions of lira. I bought a kilo of bulgar wheat and some hot pepper from my neıghborhood sundry shop the other day:

''Ne kadar?'' (How Much?)
''İki milyon lira.'' (Two million lira.)
''Ne?! İki lira.'' (What!? Two!)
''Ah, evet, evet, iki....'' (Uh, yes, yes, two...)

In 2005 the government decided all those zeros were quite simply a headache and decided to drop 6 zeroes from the currency in an attempt to stabilize and simplify (and save on printing costs, I'm sure) the currency. Hence the Yeni Türk Lirası (New Turkish Lira), was born. However, in 2009 the government decided to once again print new money, dropping the yeni and simply calling it a ''Turkish lira''. Therefore, the ''new'' lira is now the old lira, and is no longer valid currency. Shopper beware: sometimes a shopkeeper will pass these on as change to an unsuspecting schmuck, and when you go to use it later, you will receive a snort of ridicule and your money will be refused.

What else? When your Turkish friend wants to get your attention he shushes you sssssshhhhhh!!!!! It's like ''Hey friend, let me tell you something!'' I think this developed as the result of the Turks' tendency to talk all at once. When you poke your head into a büfe or döner shop, the big beefy man briskly sharpening his knife inside sees you and shouts ''Buyrun!!'' in loud booming voice. But he's not angry, just coarsely hospitible: it means ''Please!'', ''Come in!'', ''After you!''
Of course, it is the peculiarities such as these that make every place unique. And, naturally, lots of fun.
And yes, if you want to come inside, you have to take your shoes off.

The Olfactory Republic of Turkey

Though I've never had a particularly strong sense of smell, I always remember times of my life and places I've been through scents more than anything else. If I catch a whiff of a particular scent, I am whipped back through time and space to an experience that I associate with a particular smell. When I went to Central-Eastern Europe, it was the sweetly pungent smell of a freshly lit cigarette in the cold winter air, and the overwhelmingly flowery aroma of the womens' cheap purfume.

Probably a redhead

Turkey is very much a country of scents. The smells which I associate with my new home are aromas of the smoky variety: the smell of mixed burning wood and coal that the families of Cankurtaran use to heat their homes and teapots; the searing aroma of street vendors roasting chestnuts, or, kestane, as they are called here; and, of course, the sweet smell of meat rosting on a vertical spit for döner kebaps. The people, unlike those in Eastern Europe, smell clean and fresh, and acually have good taste in purfumes and colognes. And, of course, the smell I could never live without is always in the air - that of salt water, the sea, because where I live is a stone's throw from the water.

An quick (but expensive) snack

Naturally, as well, the delicious scents of food are always permeating the air. Since I budget myself, I, with difficulty, resist these temptations, choosing the much cheaper fare of bread, tomatoes, cucumber, cheese, fruits, and yoğurt eaten from the comfort of my home's tiny rough-hewn wooden table. I haven't cooked much, because I simply haven't been inspired. Why is this? This would never be the case back home, where ingredients cost twice as much. I thought about this last night as I got home from work and came to a realization: its not that I have a tiny kitchen, but nothing to work with!! Sılverware and plates abound, but there is no cookery or cooking utensils. Alas! I will remedy this once I get paid. But until then, I will have to eat what I've been eating. At least the fresh bread is good. Damn good. And that just might be my favorite scent of all.

I Haven't much to work with....

He lives on....to clean your hair!!

Yavaş (Slowly).....

The hardest part of getting used to life in İstanbul, and Turkey itself, is slowing down. I must admit, when I first came here I had culture shock for the first time in my life, but now I'm not so sure as to whether it was culture shock, or the shock of learning to slow down. Its hard for Americans because everything is instant - dinner, a phone call, restaurant service, everything (or maybe its just being young). It comes as a bit of a shock when you are used to that, and then suddenly everything slows down. My fırst weeks here in İstanbul, it was what pegged me as an American.
''I can tell you are American,'' the Turks would say, ''you are anxious, jittery.'' Relax. Have some çay (tea). Talk to us for a bit. Yavaş.
I think I am finally beginning to slow down. Since my current schedule doesn't require me to be at work until 5 or 6 in the evening during the weekdays, I woke up late this mornıng to the first beautiful weather in weeks and took a walk. Strolling through the old city walls, I was pleasantly surprised to see that two blocks from my apartment and across the roadway, there was a lovely path that ran right along the Bosphorus. Although it was cold, the sun shined brightly and warmed me, and I smiled at the lovely weather. Yavaş, very good.

Bosphorous

I bought some fresh bread for breakfast and, having time to spare, went out to walk and talk to people.

I live in a small apartment in Cankurtaran, a very small, quiet, and old neighborhood in the southern part of the Sultanahmet district, the historic district of İstanbul which houses the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, both of which are a 5 minute walk up the hill from my quaint apartment.

Kesresteci Hakkı Sok., my street

Kitchen(ette)

Living room

My tiny but toasty bedroom

Although it is a very touristy area, I am glad to have settled here, because since it is here that I first came when I came to İstanbul, I am now quite familiar with the area and I am getting to know all the working people by name. The people know me too, the ''English Teacher,'' and no longer bother me or try to tell me things. Everyday, whether it is to go to work or shopping or to meet someone, my walk takes me in between the towering Sultanahmet (Blue) Mosque and the Ayasofia. It is quite a nice walk, and sometimes when you stop and think how many people for how many centuries before lived, worked, and died in that small area, it boggles your mind a bit, and you think of what a long way, or not, people have come since the times of old.

Snowy Blue Mosque

Ayasofia

When I have time, I visit my friend Aladdin, who, yes, is a carpet seller. In his spare time, however, he keeps pigeons, and every morning I can usually find him in a back alley caring for his pigeons. It is a popular hobby here, and many people do it. Since the weather was nice today, he let them out to fly around a bit for excercise. He would throw snowballs at them to get them to fly around a bit, and seeing us throwing snowballs around like two fools, an imam came out and began a snowball fight with us. Later, our hands frozen from rolling snow, he invited us for tea and, of course, tried subtly to convert us to Islam. Yavaş. That's how it goes here.

Feeding time

Surprisingly, food here can be kind of expensive - big city, what did you expect? However, every Wednesday there is a bazaar a few blocks from where I live where I do most of my shopping. Things are usually cheaper if you buy at the bazaar, or go to different shops (bakery, bazaar, Bim for cheese and ayran, etc.), but this requires a lot of walking. Not that I mind, though. I kind of like working a little....it makes you appreciate the convenience and seemingly endless bounty of the supermarkets back home.
I have a long ride to work everyday. I have to ride the tram half an hour to the end of the line, and then transfer to the aırport train, which I ride for another 15 minutes, so it usually takes about 45 min to 1 hour to get to work. I don't mind though - it gives me some time to think or read, or brush up on some Turkish.
The surprising thing about slowing down is seeing how much time there is in each day. The days are so long. Duh, you might say, but its diffeent than that, there is a certain beauty to it. Exactly what that is, I can't say. Perhaps that what yavaş really is.