This third week was filled with finishing up details at Gulriz’s, attending a two-day orientation program by the Fulbright Committee, and finding and moving into an apartment of our own.
On Tuesday of this week, I spent some time buying a few needed items; with classes beginning next week and an 8:10 a.m. bus to catch to Hacettepe University, an alarm clock was critical. So I stayed home while Larry headed to the University, to buy stuff, do a laundry, and accomplish a few additional home tasks. Late in the afternoon, Gulriz headed to a reception, about thirty seconds before Larry came home. I was out on an exercise walk. Guess who thought the other had the keys back into the apartment!? Well, as it was getting cold, and we were facing a hungry four or five hour wait outside until Gulriz got home from the reception, we tried every door and window on the first floor to see if we could break in. This apartment is an impenetrable fortress. Just as we were preparing to walk to the nursing home in hopes the staff would take pity on us and let us sit there for several hours (it was cold)—maybe give us a scrap of bread crust, -- I remembered seeing an open window in the basement when I brought my laundry down. Finding a grate in the ground outside the apartment – unlocked! – I held it open while Larry wiggled down to the hidden open window, squeezed in, climbed the steep, narrow stairs in the dark and opened the cellar door (unlocked—whew!), then the front door, and we were saved from our foolishness. (Mostly mine; Larry said he told me in the morning that he was leaving the keys home; I don’t remember that message—probably half asleep).
On Thursday and Friday, we attended a two-day orientation program by the Fulbright Committee. Given some of the bureaucratic logistics about which we were advised, it is amazing that the Committee did not get us this information until nearly three weeks after we arrived. For example, we need to apply for residency within thirty days of arrival—a very complicated process involving finding the proper police station near our home (since we didn’t have a home yet, this was tricky), finding a way to get there, bringing a Turkish/English speaker with us, bringing proper paperwork and photocopies (first finding a photocopy place; the University does not provide photocopiers, even for class work), and so on. Opening a bank account is equally daunting and necessary to receive any Fulbright payment. Good thing I brought money with me from the States, or we would be starving by now. Well, that latter is an exaggeration; Gulriz feeds us very well. Other than the frustration of finding these things out so late in the game, the rest of the orientation program was excellent. Guest speakers from various universities gave superb talks on a wide variety of topics of interest to newcomers. I had planned on skipping the first day, as it consisted primarily of what seemed like dry, academic topics, which I feared would be boring. I am very glad I changed my mind. The speakers were all excellent. After introductions by Fulbright officials and Embassy representatives, the topics covered were: “Turkish transformation and the Turkish role in global politics,” “Modernization, democratization and identity politics in Turkey,” (delivered by a professor who had an article published in a book co-edited by a former colleague of mine, Myra Ferree, from the University of Connecticut), “Turkey and America, a general overview,” “The Cultural atmosphere in Turkey,” and “Ancient archaeology in Turkey: a contextual introduction.” Lunch on the first day was at a swanky restaurant, with piped in Frank Sinatra music. (!?)
On the second day of orientation, lunch was in an old Ottoman house restaurant, with long narrow steps to a room with a panoramic view of the city. The restaurant/house sits in the middle of the “hisar,” or fortress, in the heart of ancient Ankara. After too much excellent food, we had a guided tour of the magnificent Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, one of the best historical museums I’ve ever been in. The building alone, even if empty of the extraordinary artifacts from 8,000 years of civilization, is worth visiting. A former “horse bazaar,” it sits inside the “hisar,” amidst other “hans,” or trading/resting places of travelling merchants. Built in the 15th or 16th century (I forget which), it was restored in the 1930s by order of Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic. I cannot remember if he lived to see the opening of his vision of this museum.
Leaving the museum, we walked down the hill from the hisar through Old Ankara, through spice bazaars, antique shops, “Copper Alley,” and eventually – continuing down the loooong, steep hill to downtown – through hundreds of street vendors where the majority of Old Ankara’s residents buy their wares. These shops are a far cry from the modernized malls mentioned earlier. Partway down the hill, our guide brought us into a 700-year old Seljuk mosque. Only five of these types of mosques still exist in Turkey. Unlike more recent mosques with their spectacular tumbling domes, Seljuk mosques have flat roofs. Inside, the otherwise simple design was topped by a gorgeous carved wooden ceiling, held together with wooden pegs—no nails. The columns holding up the ceiling and roof consist of ancient pine tree trunks, topped with marble capitals taken from local Roman ruins. The caretaker bemoaned the modern hooks drilled into the columns to hold worshippers’ coats; this mosque is still a working neighborhood center of worship. As such, we were amazed that the women in our group were not asked to cover our heads with the scarves provided at the doorway for the purpose. (We didn’t notice them until our departure). Of course, we all removed our shoes before entering.
Oh, I almost forgot. After the first, long day of speakers (Thursday), we attended a reception at the home of the U.S. Ambassador to Turkey. Alas, he was not there—he was in Brussels instead. So we partied without him. Most attendees had the opportunity to return to their hotel room to rest and change clothes for the reception. The Fulbright grantees are located all over the country. Only a few of us are in Ankara, where the orientation was held, at the Turkish American Association’s Ankara headquarters. Since we did not have enough time to return to Gulriz’s apartment and come back downtown, we cooled our heels, at the invitation of a student, at his “hostel” at the nearby American Research Institute. Imbibing water and cigarette smoke (the four students there smoked the entire time), we talked about the transition to living in Turkey, and received good advice about Turkish language instruction. Taking a cab to the ambassador’s home, we got stuck in afternoon rush hour traffic, complicated by the arrival of some dignitaries for the opening session of Parliament, and the subsequent closing of several streets—tying up traffic forever. The cab driver finally just let us off somewhere within walking distance of the house, as he was going nowhere fast. Arriving at the Ambassador’s home, wouldn’t you know that, after passing through metal detectors, we had to produce our passports in order to get in. Guess what clueless foreigners didn’t think to bring them. Luckily Gulriz and Meldan arrived in the nick of time to talk us in.
On Saturday, we moved into our new apartment, in a different part of town, closer to downtown Ankara. The section is called Bahcelievler, meaning, “houses with gardens.” The original houses have in general been replaced with larger apartment complexes. Our apartment house, for example, has 12 apartments in it. We are on the fourth floor. With no elevator, I am getting plenty of stair climbing. Some of the original houses still exist, however, and are quite charming. We have gone from sharing space in a very, very crowded apartment, to rattling around in a three-bedroom furnished apartment. It is a relief to be able to spread out a bit. But, with far more space than we will need, we’ve got plenty of room for visitors. Any takers? Our landlords formerly lived here with their two young daughters, six year old twins. Some of the cabinets and walls are replete with Barbie, Hello Kitty, and hundreds of Disney stickers. Cute, as are the girls, whom we met a few days ago, along with their mother and, of course, Mithat, the landlord. This family has earned the “landlords of the year” award in our opinion. They have been terrifically helpful, even picking us up, along with our luggage, at Gulriz’s, a fairly long ride away. Mithat recently returned from a three year assignment with his firm (they sell large equipment, such as trucks, tractors, caterpillar equipment, etc.) in Tehran. His memory of the difficulties he had finding a place to live influenced him in doing so very much for us. We are very lucky.
The neighborhood is much more lively than was Mutlu Koy, our former neighborhood. I liked Mutlu Koy very much and would have loved finding a place there. I will miss especially the clean air and the open space in the middle of the apartment complex. I also liked Gulriz’s company most of the time and, of course, her cooking. But we are very happy to have our own space, and our new neighborhood, although hectic, has many advantages. For one thing, it is a mere 12 or 13 minute walk to the subway into town. Another 7 or 8 minutes and we are in downtown Ankara. Once I figure out additional details about transportation, we will be on our way to increased mobility in our new metropolis.
Speaking of transportation, we’ve had some interesting experiences figuring out the bus and metro systems. Before moving to our new apartment, we had to figure out how to get to the Turkish American Association in downtown Ankara for the Fulbright Orientation mentioned above. We had already figured out how to get to the main transportation hub—Kizilay—by bus from Gulriz’s. But, at 7:30 a.m. on a weekday (hence workday), the Kizilay buses were packed and would not stop to pick us up. (Understandable). So we took a chance and got onto a Cankaya bus. The Association is located at the bottom of a very long, very steep hill originated at the top in a section called Cankaya, and ending at the bottom in a section called Kavaklidere (where we attended the private party last week). So we had a sense of where to go once we reached the familiar Cankaya landmark—a very tall tower at the top of the hill. With this tower in sight and/or the distinctive Sheraton Hotel tower, it is relatively easy to orient oneself within the city. Anyway, we got onto a Cankaya bus from Mutlu Koy, only to be increasingly squished among dozens and dozens of additional commuters along the way. Larry and I tried remaining near the driver in case we ended up in unknown territory. This resulted in our becoming the “meter” gatekeepers. People who stepped onto the bus from the back door sent forward their Metro cards to be tabulated on the meter in front of the bus. Larry or I dutifully slipped each card into the meter, then sent back the half dozen to a dozen cards by way of raised “hand-to-hand” transport, wondering how people would recognize and claim their individual cards. (The cards were virtually alike). Eventually, though, we were pushed back toward the middle of the bus. The bus took a lot of very unfamiliar turns, taking us way outside the city center, to the point where we even lost sight of the two important landmarks—the Cankaya Tower and the Sheraton tower. We just accepted the fact that we may arrive at orientation very late, if at all. Eventually a lot of people got off, enabling me to sit down after an hour of standing and being squished. Looking out the window and up, I noticed that we were right next to the Cankaya Tower! While standing, we could not see the tower at all because we were so close to it. Luck was with us yet again. We hopped off the bus, found the street we needed to begin the long descent to Kavaklidere, and walked for nearly a half hour down that incredible hill. (I have half-suppressed memories of walking UP that hill twice fifteen years ago. It is an experience difficult to forget). We arrived at the TAA precisely on time—at 9:00 a.m. on the dot! For the next day’s Orientation session, we made it onto a Kizilay bus, with not too many other commuters. From Kizilay we walked to TAA—approximately ½ hour with Larry (he walks fast), or 40-45 minutes for me (I've done that walk several times since). Now that we are in our own apartment, the transportation challenge begins again as we learn to use the subway, new buses, and service buses to and from Hacettepe. We’re up to it!
On Tuesday of this week, I spent some time buying a few needed items; with classes beginning next week and an 8:10 a.m. bus to catch to Hacettepe University, an alarm clock was critical. So I stayed home while Larry headed to the University, to buy stuff, do a laundry, and accomplish a few additional home tasks. Late in the afternoon, Gulriz headed to a reception, about thirty seconds before Larry came home. I was out on an exercise walk. Guess who thought the other had the keys back into the apartment!? Well, as it was getting cold, and we were facing a hungry four or five hour wait outside until Gulriz got home from the reception, we tried every door and window on the first floor to see if we could break in. This apartment is an impenetrable fortress. Just as we were preparing to walk to the nursing home in hopes the staff would take pity on us and let us sit there for several hours (it was cold)—maybe give us a scrap of bread crust, -- I remembered seeing an open window in the basement when I brought my laundry down. Finding a grate in the ground outside the apartment – unlocked! – I held it open while Larry wiggled down to the hidden open window, squeezed in, climbed the steep, narrow stairs in the dark and opened the cellar door (unlocked—whew!), then the front door, and we were saved from our foolishness. (Mostly mine; Larry said he told me in the morning that he was leaving the keys home; I don’t remember that message—probably half asleep).
On Thursday and Friday, we attended a two-day orientation program by the Fulbright Committee. Given some of the bureaucratic logistics about which we were advised, it is amazing that the Committee did not get us this information until nearly three weeks after we arrived. For example, we need to apply for residency within thirty days of arrival—a very complicated process involving finding the proper police station near our home (since we didn’t have a home yet, this was tricky), finding a way to get there, bringing a Turkish/English speaker with us, bringing proper paperwork and photocopies (first finding a photocopy place; the University does not provide photocopiers, even for class work), and so on. Opening a bank account is equally daunting and necessary to receive any Fulbright payment. Good thing I brought money with me from the States, or we would be starving by now. Well, that latter is an exaggeration; Gulriz feeds us very well. Other than the frustration of finding these things out so late in the game, the rest of the orientation program was excellent. Guest speakers from various universities gave superb talks on a wide variety of topics of interest to newcomers. I had planned on skipping the first day, as it consisted primarily of what seemed like dry, academic topics, which I feared would be boring. I am very glad I changed my mind. The speakers were all excellent. After introductions by Fulbright officials and Embassy representatives, the topics covered were: “Turkish transformation and the Turkish role in global politics,” “Modernization, democratization and identity politics in Turkey,” (delivered by a professor who had an article published in a book co-edited by a former colleague of mine, Myra Ferree, from the University of Connecticut), “Turkey and America, a general overview,” “The Cultural atmosphere in Turkey,” and “Ancient archaeology in Turkey: a contextual introduction.” Lunch on the first day was at a swanky restaurant, with piped in Frank Sinatra music. (!?)
On the second day of orientation, lunch was in an old Ottoman house restaurant, with long narrow steps to a room with a panoramic view of the city. The restaurant/house sits in the middle of the “hisar,” or fortress, in the heart of ancient Ankara. After too much excellent food, we had a guided tour of the magnificent Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, one of the best historical museums I’ve ever been in. The building alone, even if empty of the extraordinary artifacts from 8,000 years of civilization, is worth visiting. A former “horse bazaar,” it sits inside the “hisar,” amidst other “hans,” or trading/resting places of travelling merchants. Built in the 15th or 16th century (I forget which), it was restored in the 1930s by order of Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic. I cannot remember if he lived to see the opening of his vision of this museum.
Leaving the museum, we walked down the hill from the hisar through Old Ankara, through spice bazaars, antique shops, “Copper Alley,” and eventually – continuing down the loooong, steep hill to downtown – through hundreds of street vendors where the majority of Old Ankara’s residents buy their wares. These shops are a far cry from the modernized malls mentioned earlier. Partway down the hill, our guide brought us into a 700-year old Seljuk mosque. Only five of these types of mosques still exist in Turkey. Unlike more recent mosques with their spectacular tumbling domes, Seljuk mosques have flat roofs. Inside, the otherwise simple design was topped by a gorgeous carved wooden ceiling, held together with wooden pegs—no nails. The columns holding up the ceiling and roof consist of ancient pine tree trunks, topped with marble capitals taken from local Roman ruins. The caretaker bemoaned the modern hooks drilled into the columns to hold worshippers’ coats; this mosque is still a working neighborhood center of worship. As such, we were amazed that the women in our group were not asked to cover our heads with the scarves provided at the doorway for the purpose. (We didn’t notice them until our departure). Of course, we all removed our shoes before entering.
Oh, I almost forgot. After the first, long day of speakers (Thursday), we attended a reception at the home of the U.S. Ambassador to Turkey. Alas, he was not there—he was in Brussels instead. So we partied without him. Most attendees had the opportunity to return to their hotel room to rest and change clothes for the reception. The Fulbright grantees are located all over the country. Only a few of us are in Ankara, where the orientation was held, at the Turkish American Association’s Ankara headquarters. Since we did not have enough time to return to Gulriz’s apartment and come back downtown, we cooled our heels, at the invitation of a student, at his “hostel” at the nearby American Research Institute. Imbibing water and cigarette smoke (the four students there smoked the entire time), we talked about the transition to living in Turkey, and received good advice about Turkish language instruction. Taking a cab to the ambassador’s home, we got stuck in afternoon rush hour traffic, complicated by the arrival of some dignitaries for the opening session of Parliament, and the subsequent closing of several streets—tying up traffic forever. The cab driver finally just let us off somewhere within walking distance of the house, as he was going nowhere fast. Arriving at the Ambassador’s home, wouldn’t you know that, after passing through metal detectors, we had to produce our passports in order to get in. Guess what clueless foreigners didn’t think to bring them. Luckily Gulriz and Meldan arrived in the nick of time to talk us in.
On Saturday, we moved into our new apartment, in a different part of town, closer to downtown Ankara. The section is called Bahcelievler, meaning, “houses with gardens.” The original houses have in general been replaced with larger apartment complexes. Our apartment house, for example, has 12 apartments in it. We are on the fourth floor. With no elevator, I am getting plenty of stair climbing. Some of the original houses still exist, however, and are quite charming. We have gone from sharing space in a very, very crowded apartment, to rattling around in a three-bedroom furnished apartment. It is a relief to be able to spread out a bit. But, with far more space than we will need, we’ve got plenty of room for visitors. Any takers? Our landlords formerly lived here with their two young daughters, six year old twins. Some of the cabinets and walls are replete with Barbie, Hello Kitty, and hundreds of Disney stickers. Cute, as are the girls, whom we met a few days ago, along with their mother and, of course, Mithat, the landlord. This family has earned the “landlords of the year” award in our opinion. They have been terrifically helpful, even picking us up, along with our luggage, at Gulriz’s, a fairly long ride away. Mithat recently returned from a three year assignment with his firm (they sell large equipment, such as trucks, tractors, caterpillar equipment, etc.) in Tehran. His memory of the difficulties he had finding a place to live influenced him in doing so very much for us. We are very lucky.
The neighborhood is much more lively than was Mutlu Koy, our former neighborhood. I liked Mutlu Koy very much and would have loved finding a place there. I will miss especially the clean air and the open space in the middle of the apartment complex. I also liked Gulriz’s company most of the time and, of course, her cooking. But we are very happy to have our own space, and our new neighborhood, although hectic, has many advantages. For one thing, it is a mere 12 or 13 minute walk to the subway into town. Another 7 or 8 minutes and we are in downtown Ankara. Once I figure out additional details about transportation, we will be on our way to increased mobility in our new metropolis.
Speaking of transportation, we’ve had some interesting experiences figuring out the bus and metro systems. Before moving to our new apartment, we had to figure out how to get to the Turkish American Association in downtown Ankara for the Fulbright Orientation mentioned above. We had already figured out how to get to the main transportation hub—Kizilay—by bus from Gulriz’s. But, at 7:30 a.m. on a weekday (hence workday), the Kizilay buses were packed and would not stop to pick us up. (Understandable). So we took a chance and got onto a Cankaya bus. The Association is located at the bottom of a very long, very steep hill originated at the top in a section called Cankaya, and ending at the bottom in a section called Kavaklidere (where we attended the private party last week). So we had a sense of where to go once we reached the familiar Cankaya landmark—a very tall tower at the top of the hill. With this tower in sight and/or the distinctive Sheraton Hotel tower, it is relatively easy to orient oneself within the city. Anyway, we got onto a Cankaya bus from Mutlu Koy, only to be increasingly squished among dozens and dozens of additional commuters along the way. Larry and I tried remaining near the driver in case we ended up in unknown territory. This resulted in our becoming the “meter” gatekeepers. People who stepped onto the bus from the back door sent forward their Metro cards to be tabulated on the meter in front of the bus. Larry or I dutifully slipped each card into the meter, then sent back the half dozen to a dozen cards by way of raised “hand-to-hand” transport, wondering how people would recognize and claim their individual cards. (The cards were virtually alike). Eventually, though, we were pushed back toward the middle of the bus. The bus took a lot of very unfamiliar turns, taking us way outside the city center, to the point where we even lost sight of the two important landmarks—the Cankaya Tower and the Sheraton tower. We just accepted the fact that we may arrive at orientation very late, if at all. Eventually a lot of people got off, enabling me to sit down after an hour of standing and being squished. Looking out the window and up, I noticed that we were right next to the Cankaya Tower! While standing, we could not see the tower at all because we were so close to it. Luck was with us yet again. We hopped off the bus, found the street we needed to begin the long descent to Kavaklidere, and walked for nearly a half hour down that incredible hill. (I have half-suppressed memories of walking UP that hill twice fifteen years ago. It is an experience difficult to forget). We arrived at the TAA precisely on time—at 9:00 a.m. on the dot! For the next day’s Orientation session, we made it onto a Kizilay bus, with not too many other commuters. From Kizilay we walked to TAA—approximately ½ hour with Larry (he walks fast), or 40-45 minutes for me (I've done that walk several times since). Now that we are in our own apartment, the transportation challenge begins again as we learn to use the subway, new buses, and service buses to and from Hacettepe. We’re up to it!
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