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 They have been replaced by multiple colorful high rises.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.
No comments:
Post a Comment