Second week, Sept. 22-28

Below is a summary of our second week in Ankara, one of settling in, learning some Turkish, acquainting ourselves with the university, with transportation, and with downtown Ankara, and keeping an eye and ear open for a more permanent place to live. Breaking news: we have found a home and will move in on Sunday, Oct. 4. More on that in next week's blog. Meanwhile, we had planned our first excursion into the countryside this weekend, but have postponed it in order to move into our new home. So, alas, this week's blog is still a summation of our "settling in" experiences.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Thus begins our second week in Turkey. We are still at Gulriz’s during Seker Bayram, limited to some extent as to what we are able to do in that the university is still closed for the holidays. We spent a chunk of the morning exercising, along with dozens of other people in the complex. It is possible that there were more than the usual number of people using the walking loop and the exercise equipment because they were home for the holiday. But this may be “the usual suspects,” of morning exercisers. We will now be part of this neighborhood clan.

The Sultan’s revenge has taken hold, so I acquiesced to taking the antibiotics my wise doctor had prescribed before I left the U.S. As of this writing, they seem to have worked well, although I think I’m ready for one more pill. We are already nearly out of drinking water (the municipal water is not recommended for drinking). Having the Sultan’s revenge and, hence, needing to keep hydrated, I worried that replacement water would be late in coming. One phone call by Gulriz, though, brought two five-gallon bottles within ten minutes. This is the equivalent of ordering pizza delivery on Christmas day and having it arrive post haste. (This Bayram is a very important holiday here).

Our afternoon excursion was to a huge shopping mall along the Eskisehir highway, the main road from our complex into downtown Ankara. Situated as so many malls are in the U.S., accessible primarily by car (although Ankara also has a great public bus system), it was the biggest mall I had ever seen. I know there are bigger ones; e.g., The Mall of America. There are even larger ones elsewhere in Turkey. Nonetheless, it took our breath away. This mall was full of high priced Turkish and American retailers, as well as a few lesser priced stores. There was even a Claire’s for heavens sake—the trinket shop for teenage girls. The food court was enormous, clean and smelled really good – partly because there were a lot of Turkish restaurants and food vendors there. I also saw Starbucks, KFC, Burger King, and Sbarro. Coca Cola was ubiquitous. The entire mall was packed—likely because of the holidays. Think West Farms Mall a few days before Christmas. We may as well have been in Connecticut. It was certainly disconcerting. Oh—lest anyone think we went there for American nostalgia sake, the mall sat atop an enormous Home Depot type of supply store, called Bauhaus. Gulriz needed a wood plane for Larry to shave some of the upstairs bathroom door so that it will open more easily. With other domestic needs for the apartment, she chose this store because it has the largest selection of supplies; it was like a gigantic Home Depot, but with better service and displays. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check out the stores upstairs as another lesson in the massive changes in Ankara.

Tuesday, September, 22

I am missing my daughter, Anna, today. Not that I didn’t miss her earlier, but today is a little harder on that account.

Nonetheless, it was another busy day of apartment fixing. But first, having overslept until 10:00 am. (yikes!), after a night of barking dog, we went out for some exercise. I walked up the double walkway to check out the nearby bakkal, the closest convenience store, which is a mere few hundred yards’ walk. It seems to have everything we’ll need on a daily basis, including all the crackers and rice cakes I’ll need to get through my Sultan’s revenge which, alas, did not go away after all.

Coming back, we ate breakfast around noon (apple juice, banana & rice cake for me), followed by the arrival of one of Gulriz’s former students, Muamar, and another man, Hassan, who spent most of the afternoon fixing a variety of things around the apartment: mounting shelves above doors, weather proofing the garden room, and helping Larry and me with the recalcitrant bathroom door. A fair amount of strength had been required to open and close this door, due to carpeting that came too close to the bottom of the door. So, using the plane we bought at the Bauhaus yesterday, Larry and I took turns planing the bottom of the solid wood door, then lifting that heavy door back on its hinges (a very difficult task to coordinate), many times, only to find that no amount of planing – over a period of about two hours – would make that door open and close easily, although there was some gradual improvement. Hassan finally found a solution. He bent a couple of small brass hooks to fit around a section of the two hinges, which, after he and Larry lifted the door for the final test, lifted it just enough to almost clear the rug. It is not perfect, but it is a vast improvement over the struggles we faced in the middle of the night in trying to use the facilities.

Hassan brought his two young children, a girl of about eight or nine years old, and a boy of about five or six. (I’ve got to start writing down people’s names; I am pathetic in remembering them). We had a lot of fun with them, teaching each other words in our respective languages. The girl knew about as much English as we knew Turkish and was very eager to learn more. The young boy and their mother knew no English. So she (the girl) was our conduit whenever Gulriz or Muamor were not around.

After all the helpers departed, Larry and I checked out a few more places in the neighborhood where we hadn’t yet been, as well as the Galleria, the large shopping center less than a quarter mile from our apartment. The center has a grocery store, where I will be able to get some supplies as soon as I can eat more of a variety. And, of course, clothing, household, shoe stores and the like. Because it is in a neighborhood and not in downtown Ankara, or set off as a large mall, I had hoped to buy an affordable purse there, as I foolishly did not bring one with me. Finding a store that sells only handbags, I picked out the smallest, with the simplest design, only to find it cost 260 Turkish lira, equivalent to about $160 or $170. Yikes! I put it back and will continue for awhile to carry cash and ID in a small LL Bean bag slung around my neck.

Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009

We made the 8:10 a.m. Hacettepe bus this morning. This is easy. What a tremendous service. The free bus ride was all of eight or nine minutes from our apartment. One striking image of the landscape viewed from the bus window is the tens of thousands of trees planted in the past several years, all part of the beautification of Ankara. Larry and I remember the thousands that were planted outside our Bilkent apartment fifteen years ago; they seem to be thriving, although they have not gotten very tall yet, probably from a paucity of rain. It does rain here—several afternoon showers last week—but not all that often. The trees should soften the landscape, which had been denuded over 8,000 years of civilization. For those of you who remember your early Western Civilization courses, the Tigris and Euphrates are not far away, and Catalhoyuk, an archaeological site not far from here, is thought to be the earliest excavated site of a settled community.

After a kind faculty member set up my computer for Internet access in Larry’s office (IP codes and such), we discussed with others in the department the upcoming issue of Jast. There is definitely pressure to get this journal issue done. I’m not sure this is what I signed up for. But, it gives me a sense of purpose at an otherwise rootless time.

Thursday, September 24

Back to Hacettepe to hang out in Larry’s department, check e-mail and meet new people. Lunch with Meldan and a friend of hers at the faculty cafeteria. Unlike my concept of a buffet type cafeteria, this is a sit-down, waiter order place. Very nice, but I wouldn’t want to spend lots of money on lunches each day. Not that it is terribly expensive. My chicken and eggplant dish (I can eat normally again!), tea and water cost less than 5 TL (about $3.00). But Larry and I generally prefer bringing our lunch. Today we had an epiphany as to why we seem to be the only ones outside, eating lunch in a nice area in the beautiful sunshine: the bees are very aggressive and just love to take part in our lunch. So we may have to rethink these lunches until the cold weather sets in.

After lunch we had a tour of part of the campus. We saw from atop a hill the lojmanlar, or apartments we were originally offered, only to find out late in the summer that they are for short-term visitors to the campus, not visiting faculty. Darn. Those would have been perfect, allowing both Larry and me to come and go as we please, rather than having to stay pretty much in the department from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Long day!

The tour was followed by an introduction (for me) to the chair of the Information Management department. Information Management is the new name for Library Science. I didn’t know they had a library science program—which (if I understood him correctly) has 500 students (!), of which 80 are graduate students—both M.A. and PhD candidates. The chairman and another faculty member invited me to speak as a guest lecturer in some of their graduate classes. I have not yet determined whether requests for my participation (Fulbright lectures, class lectures, journal editing, Amy Tan research) are real or whether people are simply being polite.

As a break from using Larry’s office, I plopped myself down in the library to continue writing, too tired to introduce myself to anyone. (I’m not sure who in the library speaks English). I didn’t stay long, as I needed to use the facilities, not realizing that the old-style “tuvalets,” where one has to squat to the floor, were all that were available in the library. My knees cannot at the moment take such a gymnastic feat. So back to the department, then home.

While Larry exercised at Mutlukoy, I went exploring a shop that somebody had recommended, within walking distance of our apartment: Waikiki. Lots of American style clothing—not that I cared about buying only American stuff—I am, after all, in Turkey. But the prices were very reasonable and I succeeded in buying a small leather purse for a fraction of the price of the one I found in the nearby Galleria. Now I can go to this Saturday’s Fulbright party without carrying my LL Bean bag, which would have made me feel mighty silly.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Back to Hacettepe. In brief, we talked about the journal manuscript, the working copy of which had been misplaced. Meldan, the department head, relinquished her backup copy to be loaded by flash drive onto my little netbook, so there is at least one digital copy available to us. Eventually she also gave us a hard copy.

Later, looking for some sales figures of Amy Tan’s books, by request, for another faculty project, I could not find a list of the library’s databases from the university’s/library’s website. A graduate student finally showed me how to find it: it was not available from the English version web page, only the Turkish. Silly me. Once into the list via the Turkish site, I could read the database titles in English; the list includes dozens of databases with which I am familiar.

At the end of the work day, there was one final department meeting before the students returned to campus (classes begin Oct. 5), to finalize plans for the academic year, celebrate one faculty member’s birthday, and to select a copyright-free image for a poster announcing the upcoming Native American conference, for which the journal issue is being prepared. I participated in the selection process, and the birthday cake eating. Since there was pressure to make a quick decision about an image, with little time to follow through on copyright, it was decided to use a photograph of a dream catcher owned by Meldan.

Caught the bus home. Gulriz had more “iman fainted” for us. Then a walk to see Mama Ayse—with Gulriz walking along with us using a walker. Ayse was asleep, so Gulriz chose to stay with her, asking Larry to come accompany her home after 11:00 p.m.

These days are so full! I think back at all the times people at home asked me, “What are you going to do all day?” I wish, to some extent, that the problem was real. I could sure use some “leisure” time.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Got to sleep late today because we didn’t have to catch the 8:10 a.m. bus. After morning exercise and “breakfast” at about noon we went to the produce market again. There, I also staked out vendors for home supplies should we decide to leave Gulriz’s apartment. The decision to stay or leave is a tough one. There are so many advantages to living here, but several disadvantages as well. The space problem is compelling, and Gulriz’s personality is larger than life. Being so very generous as well, she is running herself ragged cooking for us, despite our attempts to assure her that we are more than happy to take care of our own meals.

Returning from our grocery shopping, we get ready for a party being held for Fulbrighers smack in the middle of embassy row in downtown Ankara. Travelling by city bus to Kizilay, the urban core of Ankara, we made it to the big city in about 25 minutes. Along the way, I was charmed by the walls of the highway underpasses. Turkish art includes a long tradition of tiles and ceramics. So, unlike the stark cement walls of U.S. highway underpasses, those in Turkey are lined with beautiful, sometimes whimsical, tile murals. Two that particularly struck me (I’ll try to get a photo sometime) were homages to stylized ceramic bunnies and cats.

Getting off the bus in downtown Ankara, we start walking to the party in another part of the city —Kavaklidere, which is quite a long walk, but we are in an adventurous mood and want to see how much we remember. Larry clearly remembers more than I. He gets us to our old familiar bus stop from fifteen years ago and, from there to Kugulu Park (Swan Park), where we had spent many happy times with Anna, five years old at the time, sitting on park benches, feeding the swans, and gazing at the pretty fountains. Arriving fairly early in the general neighborhood of the party, we sat in the heavily used park for a long time to rest and people watch. A vendor came around offering tea to those of us sitting on the benches.

The walk to the park had taken us past dozens of crowded bars and cafes; the streets were packed with young people out to have a good time on a Saturday night. This street, with which I was so familiar—we had formerly spent a lot of time walking back and forth during the day -- was barely recognizable on a Saturday evening from all the traffic and revelers. I have come to the conclusion that we must never have been here on a Saturday night in 1994/95 because I don’t remember these crowds. Of course, we had a five year old with us at the time and weren’t likely to have brought her here at night. The streets had a real party atmosphere that was exhilarating in spirit, even if it reminded us of how old we are getting.

Anyway, off to the party, the address of which we eventually found. Getting into the apartment building wasn’t so easy, as the names of our hosts did not appear on the buzzer lists. So we just hung around outside until someone else came to the party and got us in the back door. It was a nice affair in a very nice apartment, right next to the Iranian embassy.

Leaving a bit early – before those incredible looking desserts – drat! – we set off to find the bus stop back to Mutlu Koy in the dark. This was one of the tougher challenges of the day. Walking all over creation for more than an hour looking for the stop, we were lucky to have been in the correct area when the bus happened by. Turns out there is no sign for that particular stop.

Sunday, Sept. 27

Finally having a somewhat leisurely day, we discussed over breakfast some plans for living arrangements. If staying with Gulriz, we will need more space. Plans to resolve some of the space issues include moving excess furniture and lots of boxes to her Bodrum house, a ten-hour bus ride away, during the last weekend of October, another holiday weekend. The moving truck would meet us there. With the Bodrum stuff gone, we would move into a larger room, and create a small space in another room for a table and reading chair. There will still be a large number of boxes that will stay, mostly books, so our space will still be restricted, but better than our current situation.

The continuing discussion included alternatives, such as continuing to look for an apartment of our own. Liking the Mutlu Koy location and community, we spent some time in the afternoon looking at an empty apartment about 100 feet from Gulriz’s. If this works out, we will have solved all our problems. But alas, the apartment was completely empty (no stove, refrigerator, etc.), dirty, basically derelict, with leaks in the roof and other problems. The rent was very high; furnishing it would have been difficult and expensive, heating would have cost a fortune, and the landlord required us to pay for repainting when we leave. Hayir, tessekur ederim, (“no thank you”) was our response. We’ll keep looking.

Monday, September 28, 2009

The students are back! Whew! Just like at UConn or ECSU, one day it is all peace and quiet, next day—wham! People everywhere! (as one would expect).

We found out a little more about the university this week. For one thing, it is very large. There are either 17,000 students here or 26,000. The web site is unclear as to whether the larger number, which is the only one listed, refers to the Beytepe campus, on the outskirts of the city (where we are), or the entire system, including the medical school downtown, for which Hacettepe is reknown in Turkey. Someone here thinks there are 17,000 students.

Meldan just popped in (I am in Larry’s office) to tell me that there is a mostly furnished apartment available in Bahcelievler, the neighborhood where she lives and where I used to do some of my grocery shopping fifteen years ago. So off we go to check it out.

Meeting the owner and former resident, we climb several stairways—it is a fourth-floor walkup. I certainly won’t have to go out of my way for exercise. It is very nice! Not too big, not too small. It has a largish living room; small, very nice kitchen; three bedrooms (!), two small and one medium size; a nice bathroom, and a glass-enclosed balcony with windows that can open in nice weather. It comes with stove, washing machine, and various pieces of furniture. The landlord will buy a refrigerator for us, which I think we will be paying for. [update: we did not have to pay for it] Meldan and others will provide us with dishes, pots, etc. The landlord, a youngish man named Mithat (I’m getting better with names) recently returned from a three year assignment with his company in Tehran, where he had a great deal of difficulty finding a suitable place to live. So he is going out of his way to make things pleasant and easy for us—bless him. If we like it, he can have the apartment cleaned and ready for occupancy as early as this weekend.
Larry and I like it very much and agreed to take it. Hooray! We are already feeling guilty about leaving Gulriz because she seems to like having us around. She has been lonely since retiring from Bilkent, and having her mother in the nursing home. On the other hand, it will relieve her of having to cook so much for us. In addition, we can now postpone the Bodrum move to the Spring, taking a lot of pressure off her to pack and decide what is going there. We are hoping she will be okay with our departure. We look forward to finally feeling settled.

Pictures from our first week

Hi, eveyone. I was able to add one picture to my post below. In trying to add others, though, they just clumped up at the top, rather than being located at the appropriate points throughout the text. Anyone know how to get more pictures properly placed? Thanks! To see the full run of my first week's pictures, please see my Shutterfly Share site (a picture blog) at:
http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com/

I spent some time adding captions to the pictures, but they don't seem to be immediately evident unless you click on individual pictures. Sorry!

The older posts are my personal pictures and have nothing to do with Turkey. I had hoped to create separate "share" albums to keep the two apart, but haven't figured that one out yet and didn't want to wait much longer to post these, as I'm accumulating "second week" pictures rapidly.

Settling in

Apologies to everyone for the unconscionable length of the blog entry below. It represents my daily musings during our first week here as we settled in to some routines and tried to resolve some outstanding issues. These musings helped me to get over some rough spots. I promise not to go on at such length over my daily matters and will try to limit any lengthy comments to more interesting times -- like our upcoming reception with the U.S. ambassador, and - I hope - some more travels. Promises, promises . . . . [written Sept. 23]

Wednesday, Sept. 16 – first full day in Ankara
Ankara has changed dramatically, as we had been warned. The gece condular (night houses) that had made such a strong first impression on me, as I rode from the airport on our first day in 1994, no longer exist. They have been replaced by multiple colorful high rises. Here is a picture of the foundations of some of the former shacks in the foreground, with the high rises in the background. The condular are gone, new buildings are everywhere, and I barely recognize this city of four million people where I once spent another academic year. Where once we had a sweeping view of the city sitting in a bowl surrounded by miles of denuded hills, there are now new buildings to be seen everywhere, even on the highest hills.

This second day was spent doing errands. First Gulriz drove us into central Ankara so she could meet with a lawyer to begin the process of gaining power of attorney for her mother’s affairs. This trip revealed even more the dramatic building programs throughout the city. Some have uprooted old neighborhoods, reminding me of “urban renewal” projects in the U.S. in the mid to late 20th century. Other projects are quite striking, including not only large buildings, but massive improvements to the aesthetics of everyday city life, such as nice plantings, new stone walls, and beautifully designed cast iron fences.

After the lawyer, we drove to the airport to pick up our luggage—only one day late—not too bad. Then to Bilkent, our old haunt. While Gulriz straightened out some issues regarding her pension there, I went off to the library to see the physical manifestation of the planning work I did fifteen years ago for the new Special Collections Department and the Halil Inancik collection—the latter being the collection of the country’s (world’s?) prominent scholar of Ottoman history. Alas, I could not find it! Searching through four floors of the gorgeous addition –all white marble, light wood, and brass – I finally found the collections on the basement level! Still beautiful, but I was taken aback. Nonetheless, I was somewhat gratified, in that my recommendation of more than fifteen years ago mentioned my discomfort with the original plan of placing the collection on an upper floor, where the manuscripts and rare books would have been exposed to a great deal of sunlight. So good for them. I met the special collections librarian, who invited me back when I was not so rushed to get back to Larry and Gulriz.

Next stop: the huge Bilkent shopping center, where we visited an upscale electronics store for a device to convert Gulriz’s older computer to accept a wireless signal. What a difference (again) in having this center, which includes a huge grocery store and a Marks & Spencers, closely available to the Bilkent campus. A far cry from our weekly excursions into town on the “grocery bus,” provided to faculty every Friday evening to take us car-less families to town to buy food. Although it was pretty inconvenient, it also had an aura of celebratory silliness as we squashed back into the bus, laden with multiple bags of food, much of which we shared on the long ride back to campus. This memory, of course, is from our experiences fifteen years ago. We are in a different place now and a different time.

Leaving Bilkent, we went back to the apartment for dinner, which was waiting for us. Gulriz’s housekeeper and helper, Jevre, cleans and cooks for us, and generally does whatever is needed to make us all comfortable, such as finding us guest bathrobes for our showers. This will take some getting used to. I cannot say that I like being waited on hand and foot. It is a totally unexpected experience. We’ll see if I can adjust; right now I am exceedingly uncomfortable, even though Jevre is a very nice person. I’d like to get to know her better, but my Turkish language skills are dismal, as are her English. If we weren’ so incredibly busy these first few days, we could help each other learn our respective languages. But, of course, we have many more months, if we choose to stay here.

After dinner (not cleanup; Jevre cleans the dishes in the mornings), we unpacked our suitcases as best we could given that we have so little space. Larry and I had to take turns unpacking so as not to get in each others’ way. This is also true of our morning and evening yoga stretches. Jevre clears a little more space for us each day, but we still have to be very careful about where we tread. I’ve never seen so many boxes of stuff and excess furniture in one home before.

Then it’s off to the nursing home to visit Gulriz’s mother, who had a serious stroke in May, leaving her half paralyzed and unable to speak. She was astonished to see us, and seemed to remember us from our visit in 1995 to her summer apartment in Erdek on the Sea of Marmara, where the three of us (Anna was with us then), plus Gulriz and her mom crammed into her miniscule space. But our memories of Mama Ayse’s hospitality has stayed with us all these years. In the nursing home, we shared a cake to celebrate her 99th birthday. Because she was born on Muhammad’s birth anniversary, her actual birthday changes each year. Muhammad’s birthday, according to Gulriz, occurs during Ramazan, which follows a lunar cycle and, hence, changes each year (I’m not 100% sure I’ve got this right).

Because the nursing home is so close to our place, Larry and I walked home in the dark, feeling perfectly safe and gratified that we did not accept the original living situation. Instead of going straight home, though, we wandered around the commercial district, where the street had lots of people in the restaurants and cafes. This is much better.
I’m still tired.


Thursday, Sept. 17

Today was our first full day at Hacettepe, our new university home. A new faculty member, and graduate of Hacettepe, picked us up at 11:00 after we overslept badly. We were introduced to everyone in the Department of American Culture and Literature, then off we went for lunch at the same beautiful Hacettepe restaurant, with the spectacular view of nearly the entire city – kind of like the view of L.A. from the Griffith Observatory. It turns out that the Ramazan fast is not observed by all, and, in particular, is not expected of tourists or other visitors. It was just a casual comment the other night about waiting for the sun to set to end that day’s fast. There, the entire department met with the U.S. Cultural Attache , and the Embassy’s Public Affairs Officer, as well as other Embassy staff. After another typically delicious Turkish meal, the waiter took a picture of all twenty or so of us. If I ever see a digital copy, I will try to post it.

Returning to the department, we were settled into Larry’s office. Where I will ultimately be located during the day will be determined some other time. What a friendly, helpful group of people (mostly women); they clearly view the department as family, and have accepted us as one of their own. They do have some plans for me, if I accept. For example, Larry and I will likely be editing the next edition of Jast: the Journal of American Studies of Turkey, the articles of which were submitted up to three years ago and have been waiting for final editing. And, my goodness, are they all eager for me to help in the library. Hmmm. I wonder why they’re so eager. We’ll see. I was also invited to give talks about library affairs in various parts of the country, which will be funded by the Fulbright program. Anyone have topics to recommend? I’m not sure I want to do this, as I hadn’t meant to work so hard while here. But space problems will definitely keep me from quilting, so we’ll see. After some real sleep, I may be able to make some of these decisions. Meanwhile, Larry and I caught up on our email (congratulations to Kate for winning the Hampton Democratic primary as a candidate for Hampton First Selectman!). And one faculty member, who has become the department’s technical expert, is working on setting me up to use my little netbook to gain consistent access to the Internet from the department. The wireless connection is too weak in the building, so I will need an Ethernet cable. Because he and I have the exact same netbook (the EEE PC), he knows exactly what I’ll need during our stay. The school does not have a separate computer for Larry, so he will use the department’s shared computers and/or mine.

A student guided us in taking a bus home from the campus, discussing with the bus driver where we need to get off, so we don’t end up as we did on our first bus trip in Istanbul so many years ago—outside the city walls and hopelessly lost. From the bus, we got to be even more amazed at the miles and miles of new housing—visible in every direction. We made it home intact, ate a very small meal (we were still full from the lunch) of a salad and an eggplant dish called, “The Imam Fainted.” (He was overwhelmed by how delicious it was. I have to say that was one discerning imam).

Next, our nightly visit to Mama Ayse, who remembered my holding her hand the evening before, and immediately grabbed it with her un-paralyzed hand to hold for a long time. Gulriz brought a picture of her (Ayse) when she was about 3 years old, with her father (Gulriz’s grandfather), pictured in what looks like a Nomad tent. He was quite wealthy, so I think this was a staged pose. He has the type of fez on his head that was banned by Ataturk in 1923, as part of the revolutionary changes that occurred after the Revolution and founding of the Turkish Republic. The photograph was taken in 1913 or 14.

Then another evening walk to see more of the neighborhood and another attempt at sleep. (I’m not quite there yet).


Friday, Sept. 18

We had planned to catch the 8:10 a.m. bus back to Hacettepe for the day; the morning bus driver was instructed to look for us. But Gulriz had other plans for us. She had hired a mover to rearrange furniture and other stuff to make more room for Larry and me, and needed Larry’s help with the move. But, not having told us about this, we kept the bus driver waiting for us in vain. When we didn’t appear, people at the department were somewhat concerned by our absence. Not a good way to start Larry’s first work day. (I am not actually working, but I’m squatting in the department to use the shared computers and finish some emails). We ate our bagged lunches outside the building, and then went to visit the main library. One librarian nearly hugged me when he heard that I am an academic librarian. Larry asked about obtaining a library card, so he was given a small application card to fill out. It certainly was embarrassing when he could not fill out the sections on University ID# (he doesn’t have one yet), home address, phone number, Hacettepe email address, and departmental phone number. Ah well, all in good time.

Transportation to and from the apartment is a breeze (when we don’t miss the bus, that is). The university provides free “service buses” for faculty and staff to drop them (us) off within a specified loop. We are lucky to be living in that loop, and will be picked up at 8:10 a.m. and dropped off at 5:45 p.m. in front of a shopping center very close to home. The Galleria, as it is called, seems to have nearly everything we will need for awhile. The ride takes 15 to 30 minutes each way depending on traffic and the number of people on the bus. We certainly lucked out.

After eating the delicious dinner fixed for us by Jevre – bulger and salad – we decided we were all too tired to visit Mama Ayse tonight. Gulriz had spent much of last night with her, as her invalid mother was hallucinating, and part of this afternoon as well. We all tried to relax a bit, but, with no comfortable place to sit, it didn’t happen. Instead, we decided to continue with the puzzle pieces of trying to pull this apartment together. The first task at hand was to make room for the television which is scheduled to be connected tomorrow. First we needed to figure out what to do with the multiple boxes of liquor Gulriz had collected in duty-free airport shops over the years and from gifts from other people. They have been sitting on the floor in the living room in the spot where the TV is to go. I found a likely cabinet tall and deep enough for all the bottles, occupied by Mama Ayse’s china set. Carefully removing each piece of china, we heard the stories that accompanied many of the pieces. This obviously took some time; there are some fascinating stories to tell, none of which I can remember anymore. (I can sure use some sleep).

To make room for the tall bottles, I needed to adjust a heavy shelf, a challenge that harked back to my days of curating exhibitions at the Babbidge Library at UConn. Those tasks done, Larry and Gulriz analyzed each and every bottle of liquor—about four dozen in all, as I neatly arranged them in the cabinet. As Gulriz will throw virtually nothing away, even those bottles already opened had to be considered. Ironically, Gulriz, like us, is only a social drinker; she plans on giving unopened bottles as gifts, and keep some for future parties. Several hours later, we had the china put away, the liquor bottles organized, and a few bottles of wine placed where we can get to them to drink ourselves. By this point, it was tempting to chug some of the open brandy, but we are still sleeping poorly, so we thought better of it. The TV will now have a snug home.


Saturday, Sept. 19

Awoke late, as sleep eluded me until well after the 4:45 a.m. call to prayer (ezan) by the muezzin. During most of the year, these calls, of which there are normally five each day, do not begin so early. But we are still in Ramazan (Ramadan, in other countries), so the pre-dawn call is meant to wake people up before sunrise in order for them to eat something to begin the day, while not breaking the daylight fast. My understanding is that the early call is accompanied by drums to make sure people can hear and wake up, but from where we are, I can hear no drums. My guess is that the drums are more relevant in the villages than in the cities.

Most of our sleeplessness has been due to jet lag, as expected. Some is due to the sleeping arrangements themselves. Here is a summary of what in retrospect is humorous – to me anyway – but in the middle of the night can take on dismaying significance:

Tues. night (1st night in the apartment): Normal sleeping difficulties due to recent arrival. Also, a top sheet too small for the bed that Larry and I competed for, resulting in a pile between us. Meanwhile, we kept hearing a very strange whistling type sound outside our window, and assumed it was a strange cat or some type of insect.

Wed. night: Still no sleep. The whistling continued, setting off a barking dog. Otherwise, the neighborhood is extremely quiet. The air was cooling down, so I found and added a blanket, but the sheet kept clumping up.

Thurs. night. Frustrated with the sheet, I found another one that fit. Hooray. In a few days, the perfume in the new sheet should dissipate and I can breathe easily again (I’m allergic to perfume). The whistling outside increased dramatically. We finally found out that it was the security guard, blowing a high pitched whistle to scare off potential burglars. Tonight’s guard just loves that whistle. Annoying as it was, we laughed when we heard it and the subsequent barking. At least now we know what it is. We succeeded in sleeping a few hours.

Friday night. This morning, Gulriz discovered my sheet breach. So she had Jevre change the bottom sheet, put away the top sheet, and put the blanket in a duvet. More perfume. The duvet didn’t work; the blanket clumped up such that one of us froze (all duvet, no blanket), while the other sweated under a tall pile of blanket. During this almost sleepless night, we switched with each other between hot and cold. The whistling diminished. The previous night’s obsessive whistler was apparently off for the night; this night’s guard was more restrained.

More frantic activity in the morning. Jevre leaves today at 1:00 p.m. to prepare to travel to visit other family members to celebrate Seker Bayram, the three day celebration of the end of Ramazan. But first she and we have to clear more space to prepare for TV repairmen to properly set up the TV. Gulriz was beside herself with impatience, as the TV men were several hours late (sound familiar?), and she knew that once the holidays began, generally around noon today, her TV would not be ready until late next week. We have all been without news of the outside world for a long time, except for the brief snippets of Internet availability Larry and I had at Hacettepe on Thursday. Gulriz, who cannot stand on her feet for long periods of time, directed traffic, issued directives, sent contradictory messages all around as we moved boxes, moved them again, possibly a few more times, lugged stuff out of the way, carried things to the attic, vacuumed, and generally did whatever seemed necessary for what end none of us was sure. Even Jevre occasionally caught our bewildered looks, and smiled in understanding. At one point, we had to stop ourselves from laughing, Jevre included.

Larry and I, feeling useless for a period, decided to set up the computer we will use for tomorrow’s commencement of editing the Native American edition of JAST. Gulriz did not seem to appreciate what we were doing, wanting us to continue moving stuff, but we (well, I) kept doing the wrong things and were generally just getting in everyone’s way. We are getting better at working around her contradictory wishes; or perhaps we are simply misunderstanding her. Her English is good, but not great. (And our Turkish progresses only about five words per day).

Eventually, the TV folks arrived; Gulriz calmed down, saw what we had done with the computer and was satisfied. By the end of the morning, we had cleared the table, found three stuffed chairs to sit on, cleared a couch in the back garden room (where we have been eating while the weather stays warm), propped up another couch against a garden room window that had been slightly damaged in the 1999 earthquake, and freed up a coffee table and some more floor space.

HOWEVER, by 1:00, I needed an escape and went for the first daytime exercise walk I’ve been able to fit in. After a long walk around areas I was already familiar with from our evening walks, I decided to check out our “back yard.” We are in a fairly large complex of two-story town houses, with a common area within the gates. Each apartment also has an individual gated garden. Our memory of the common area was a reasonably large lawn, with nice landscaping and some sidewalks. Much to my amazement, I found that the central area also had two wide walkways, with a landscaped median that extended for about one half mile through the complex.

Besides lovely trees and flowers, there was a children’s playground, a café, and, incredibly, outside exercise equipment. I say “incredibly” because we had not yet figured out how we would get adequate exercise while here (when we weren't moving furniture, that is). Gulriz planned on convincing the powers that be to have Larry teach an extra course at Bilkent, in addition to his three courses at Hacettepe, in exchange for a membership to the International Sports Center on the Bilkent campus. This idea had its merits, in that the Center is gorgeous, huge, with two pools, a sauna, a Jacuzzi, a café, and marble and tiles everywhere. (I was a member fifteen years ago). It is also exceedingly expensive, although they allowed me a huge discount at the time, as a visitor to the country. My objection to this plan was the pressure on Larry to teach yet another course. Besides, transportation, although not impossible, was nonetheless an issue. So our little common area, with the outdoor exercise equipment was an unexpected solution and saves us a great deal of trouble.

This may be a good time to describe the apartment we are living in. It is actually quite large—with a foyer, large living/dining room, with a niche used for Gulriz’s office, small kitchen, and “garden room,”—an enclosed patio area overlooking her small private yard. Upstairs, there are three bedrooms—small, medium and large. On the third floor is one attic space formerly used by Gulriz as her home office. There is one full bath, one half bath, and a tiny w.c. on the third floor. Throughout the apartment is modern custom woodwork, the style of which I would describe as Danish modern. The solid woods are gorgeous Even the attic space is fully paneled with solid cedar planks. The apartment is decorated in a cross between Japanese artifacts and Ottoman colors—dark reds, purples, dark greens, and so on. It is an odd juxtaposition, but, despite the boxes, it works, and complements Gulriz’s larger than life personality.

The apartment sits within a large cooperative community called Mutlu Koy, meaning “Happy Village.” Fifteen years ago, the community was surrounded mostly by fields and a few other complexes. The recent building boom has, with the rest of Ankara, changed the surrounding area tremendously. There are huge mansions just up the hill, a very nicely designed 12 or so story luxury apartment building across the street, a dozen or so new large, identical houses being built also across the street. And a large commercial district within quick walking distance. Except for the whistle blowing security guard, and some occasional barking, this community is unbelievably quiet. There are no stereos blasting anywhere. To give you a sense of the gentleness of this community, the driver of the daily garbage cart announces his approach with an ice-cream truck type jingle of Fur Elise (is that Beethoven?). I think I am going to like it here once we finish all these moving projects.

Some of the puzzle pieces are beginning to come together. I am finally getting a sense of why there is so very much “stuff” in this house, and why it seems so chaotic. This was not our memory of Gulriz’s home from fifteen years ago. Well, I’ve got the scoop—some of it anyway. Gulriz has owned this apartment since 1986. But, after retiring from Hacettepe, where she founded the department in which Larry will be teaching (Dept . of American Culture and Literature, which includes some history courses), she began teaching on a part time basis at Bilkent, where she was given an apartment similar to the one we had when we were there. Her mother lived in an apartment in town, owned by Gulriz’s sister). Later, after her first stroke, Mama Ayse moved into Gulriz’s Bilkent apartment. Gulriz’s mother also owned a summer apartment in Erdek, on the Sea of Marmara. All this changed when Gulriz retired from Bilkent in April, and Mama Ayse had another, more severe, stroke. So what we are surrounded with are the contents of all these apartments, and Gulriz’s Bilkent office. Gulriz throws nothing away—even catching us throwing away an empty light bulb cover brings us a rebuke. Her mom, apparently, is the same. Four apartments and one office of accumulated stuff share space with us. Hence, our efforts to make room to breathe. We are making some progress.

Mid-afternoon, we headed out to do errands. First we drove to part of our neighborhood, called Umitkoy, that used to be a separate village by that name. It still has the village intact, with small shops and old houses everywhere. Among what one would normally find in village shops, were several places that sold up to date electronic equipment, so I was able to get the Ethernet cable I need to use the Internet at Hacettepe. There was also a pide house, with lots of delicious, hot pide available for one more day—the last day of Ramazan. Apparently, we will not be able to buy that specific pide again until next Ramazan. The juxtaposition of these types of shops—the old and the new, coupled with the surrounding high rises and large, expensive, houses encircling the former village represents to me a microcosm of the changes we are seeing in Ankara each day.

Next stop—the weekly open air market. This is my favorite Turkish experience—fresh produce. The peaches are the size of our grapefruits, the cabbages as large as hat boxes. Fresh figs in season. Red ripe tomatoes that you can smell as you walk by (a smell for sore noses for those of us New Englanders whose tomato crop this year was a disaster). Large bins of nuts and olives. I have pictures of our market experience, which I will post as soon as I can. One unusual purchase was a “necklace” of teeny ripe crab apples that one wears around the neck, to nibble on one or more as the mood strikes you. Wearing my apple necklace, I asked Gulriz to take a picture of me in front of the vendor, asking his permission – in sign language – first. He happily agreed and, as the picture was being prepared, another vendor joined us. This caused a stir among several other vendors, many of whom positioned themselves around me to have their picture taken with me as well. Putting their arms around each other and smiling as happily as I was, they were all very careful not to touch me. It is now our favorite picture so far and will also appear on my post one of these days.

Mama Ayse loved the apple necklace I brought her when we returned from the market.

Sunday, September 20, 2009 – First day of Seker Bayram

Today is the first day of the three day holiday called Seker Bayram, meaning Sugar Festival. It marks the end of Ramazan and, in at least one way, reminds me of Halloween. Sometime in the next few days, people will come to the house for five minutes or so to visit. We will give the children candy (hence the “seker”), and 5 Turkish lira. I’m not sure everyone gets the 5 TL; i.e., the children or just the adults. 5 TL is equivalent to approximately $3.50. The stores are chock full of candy for people to buy, and there are “Bayram” sales everywhere, similar to Fourth of July, or Presidents Day sales.

This morning was set aside to begin work on editing JAST. It is now 1:00 p.m. and Gulriz hasn’t been able to find the disc with the manuscripts. We missed our opportunity to work now because Gulriz has to be at the nursing home in a few minutes to see Mama Ayse and Gulriz’s sister and brother-in-law. While Gulriz is at the nursing home, I will vacuum the house in anticipation of tonight’s potential Bayram visitors. Later I will make a lentil dish. As you see, all day is spent on just getting through daily activities, with changes in plans occurring on a constant basis. Gulriz just remembered that the manuscript disc is likely to have been left at an office at Bilkent. With the holidays, Bilkent will not be open again until Wednesday (today is Sunday). So our plans to edit the journal the next few days have just gone down the tubes. The urgency to do so is that the edition is nearly two years late in the publication schedule, and it is needed for an upcoming November conference on Native Americans.

Gulriz went off to see Mama Ayse, returning some time later with her sister and brother-in-law. The sister had just been to visit Mama. She explained to me that she was about to leave for Virginia to visit her daughter until November. I see why Gulriz is so frustrated with her sister’s infrequent visits; she apparently has visited her mother only a half dozen times since the latter’s stroke in May. Gulriz, on the other hand, visits their mother several times per day, bringing her food she is more likely to eat than the bland nursing home fare.

In the meantime, I took over the kitchen, improvising a lentil dish, using spices the names of which I did not recognize. I used them according to their smell. It took me virtually all afternoon, working in a kitchen I was unfamiliar with. Soon we had visitors—friends of Gulriz and their children. The young son attempted to work miracles with the wireless network so we would have access to the Internet. He failed, possibly because of a code he needed to enter, with an undotted “i.” My English keyboard does not have such a character. Gulriz’s does, but the young man was unable to change her code because he couldn’t remember whether or not he had used the dotted i or the undotted i. With language barriers, I have no idea if I got any of this right. But I do know that neither Gulriz nor I can use the Internet yet in her home.

The lentil dish was a success. I will not likely be able to repeat it, as I couldn’t read the Turkish spice labels and was too lazy to go upstairs for our dictionary. As such, I haven’t a clue as to what spices I used. Tonight, while listening to a Turkish version of “Idol,” but with child performers, Gulriz is teaching me to cook an eggplant dish. Tonight we are frying the eggplant, then making a simple tomato/garlic sauce with which to top it.

I have the first case of the “Sultan’s Revenge” today. And it rained most of the day, so I did not get in a walk.

Departure Day

I know I promısed weekly posts but for the fırst few days there ıs a lot more to report The punctuatıon may be awkward for awhıle as the keyboard I am usıng keeps returnıng to Turkısh Note the lack of dots on most of the i,s Thıs ıs true only for thıs brıef ıntroductıon The actual entry below has proper punctuatıon and i,s because I copıed ıt from the entrıes I made on my lıttle computer rather than the departmental computer I am usıng for thıs ıntroductıon

Thıs post represents Monday Sept 14 despıte the date ıt was entered I wıll have no Internet access for several days durıng the holıdays whıch start thıs weekend So thıs ıs ıt for a whıle More on the holıdays -- a real bıg deal here lıke our Chrıstmas -- ın a later post So sorry for the lack of punctuatıon

Monday, Sept. 14, 2009 – Departure Day

After Anna successfully dropped us off at Bradley airport, our flight to JFK was uneventful. But, once in New York, we experienced a new variant of flight delay at JFK, one I hadn’t encountered, nor even heard of before.

Amidst the cacophony of the JFK airport – blaring TV, lots of people, construction about 100 feet away within the terminal – I vaguely heard the word “Istanbul” on one of the ubiquitous announcements. Getting up to investigate, I find that our flight is boarding – 45 minutes before departure, much earlier than we expected. Quickly grabbing our bags, we boarded unevenfully into the largest airplane I’ve been in in years. Then we sat – and sat – and sat – for three hours. “We will be departing in a few minutes” came over the intercom many, many times, in both English and Turkish. The problem? No, waiting for clearance was not the issue; that would have been normal for JFK. Instead, some people had their baggage loaded onto the plane, but not themselves. Naturally, the baggage had to be removed (it’s the law), necessitating taking all the rolling bins of baggage out of the plane to search for the offending pieces. That having been done, the passengers show up after all! So the luggage goes back in the plane, only to have one of the bin locks in the cargo section malfunction. The airline mechanics come to the rescue, by which time people on the plane are asking—who are these people who can hold up a plane full of others for hours? Well, finally, all seems well until another plane blocks our way out of the gate for yet another delay. By now, we’re assuming another two hour wait for clearance to take off but, thank heavens, that took only fifteen minutes or so. So here I am on the plane, wondering how complicated it will be when we inevitably miss our connecting flight from Istanbul to Ankara. Interestingly, though, we keep getting contradictory messages from the pilot about just how long this flight will be (it’s either 7 ½ hours or 9 ½ hours, depending on the announcement – it keeps changing. If 7 ½ it may be possible for us to make our connecting flight). Here’s hoping! And here comes our complimentary beverage. Sign off.

Once we actually got into the air, the flight was quite comfortable, the food edible, and Larry and I had the only empty seat on the plane between us, which made the flight even more comfortable (lots of leg room, too!). And somehow, despite the long delay at JFK, and the fact that the flight was nine and a half hours we made our connection in time. I dont get it. But, of course, our luggage didn’t. Despite the smooth flight, Murphy’s law clearly was not finished with us, and continued until we reached our apartment, with all kinds of unexpected complications between the airport and “home.”

Once there, our landlord showed us the apartment, spending an inordinate amount of time showing us how to operate the keys for the three locked doors that gave us access to our new home. Meanwhile, our friend, Meldan (and Larry’s new department head) picked us up to take us shopping—on the Bilkent campus, no less, where we lived fifteen years ago – then to dinner, where we met with Gulriz Buken, another old Turkish friend, for a terrific meze and fish dinner in a very nice restaurant on the Hacettepe campus. We waited until sundown to enter the restaurant, as it is still Ramadan (Ramazan in Turkey) here, and people do not eat while the sun is out.

Over dinner, we conspired to get Larry and me out of the apartment. As we were still in semi shock over the location of our apartment, and hadn’t slept in heaven knows how long, the discussion was quite disjointed. It was immediately clear though that the apartment we had arranged via email would be an impossibility. Only one mile from the Hacettepe campus, we nonetheless had no way to get there except to rely on others to drive us. The as-the-bird-flies mile distance was impassable by foot, necessitating climbs over forbidding fencing, trudging through ravines, around boulders, mud, scrub brush and other detritus. The road from the apartment, which was a small section of a large house in a sterile gated community, wound for about five or more miles along a badly paved, narrow, pock-marked, sidewalk-less, unlit road that seemed more like a large goat path. It passed through a village, half of which consisted of empty crumbling buildings. And the DOGS. Aiieeee! Large wild dogs everywhere, even in the gated community.

When we arranged for the apartment, I asked if it was easily accessible to Hacettepe and to shops by foot or by bus. The owner responded yes to both. Although he had spent 19 years in the U.S., his idea of “accessible,” or “walkable” was clearly different from ours. And the buses ran once in the morning, and once late in the afternoon; even then, they were in no way “accessible,” dropping us off in what looked like more wilderness, outside the gate of the complex. And those DOGS.

Larry and I were utterly dismayed and knew we would have felt trapped there, with no easy way to get back and forth to campus, or any other place. So, over dinner, we figured out an alternative to our living arrangement. (Our friends were furious about the apartment, not only the horrible location, but the expense, which clearly was excessive). Of course, had they checked it out sooner than one day before our arrival, we might have avoided the prolonged and very unpleasant encounter with the landlord when we returned after dinner to pick up the few things that we had carried on the plane, and tell him that we will not be able to stay.

We offered a week’s rent to thank him for preparing the apartment for us. He wanted two months’ rent. It got heated. We offered $500; he wanted $2000. Although he eventually came down to $1000, I wouldn’t budge. Only Larry’s extraordinary diplomacy, and the fact that it was the most sacred holiday of the year in Turkey (the anniversary of Muhammad’s birth), ended the dispute. He accepted the $500, to nobody’s satisfaction. But it was resolved, and we left there quickly, feeling just short of giddy from relief.

So where are we staying? Our friend Gulriz has an apartment in town, with three bedrooms upstairs. She is in poor health and has difficulty with the stairs. We are sleeping in one of the bedrooms. Our stuff is still somewhere in Istanbul. The rest of the apartment is packed floor to ceiling with stuff—much of which is from her 99 year old mother’s apartment, from which the matriarch was moved, to a convalescent home after suffering a stroke several months ago. Over the next week, we will help pack her stuff and move it and all the excess furniture to Gulriz’s retirement house in Bodrum, on the Mediterranean. After that, we will share her apartment as best we can, helping her as needed, and working hard to get her to stop smoking (at her request), in hopes that she can regain her health and her ability to function. So, we are helping each other.

We have a pleasant place to live, in a real neighborhood, with lots of activities around us – restaurants, cafes, boutiques, banks, and so on – and lots of great places to walk. (We can even walk to the nursing home to visit Mama Ayse). And, so far as I can tell, there are no wild dogs. (Did I mention those dogs?). And, even though we are several miles from Hacettepe, the University bus will pick us up in the morning, and bring us back around 6:00 at a bus stop nearby. Gulriz is even going to look into adding us to her car insurance, so we can use her car when necessary. We were trying to avoid having a car, both for the expense, and for our nerves—the drivers here are very agressıve, as are the pedestrians, but we may reconsider, so long as I don’t have to drive in too much traffic, or on the highways. I will have to conjure up my old Boston assertive driving skills.

This was our first day out of Hampton, Connecticut. I wonder why I feel so tired?

Almost there

It's been quite a few weeks: Seeing people to say "goodbye," for awhile, getting the garden ready, going over details of the house for Anna, our daughter, who will care for it while we're gone. Tomorrow, an electrician is coming to install a generator, in case we lose power in Hampton for awhile in our absence. (Hampton is generally the last to have power restored during an extended outage--not too many Hamptonites to complain). And the septic system, which couldn't wait until next year to fail, has been duly replaced and is up and running. With only five days before departure, we are just starting the packing process. Larry will likely have a third of what I plan to bring. But, although the airlines charge for luggage, our grant will cover all extra baggage expenses. Whoo, whoo! I'll bring the kitchen sink. Wait, our apartment has one, or so our landlord tells us. Speaking of . . . he says that the apartment is furnished. But there is no mention of sheets, towels, pots and pans, dishes, and so on. I'm counting on his wife to say, "but of course we have to supply them with sheets," etc. If not, I know what we'll be doing on our first day there -- once we wake up from our traveling stupor.
Next post, I hope, will be from Turkey.