Turk Du Soleil

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

It's our second Christmas here in Turkey. Our first one was a haze of jet-lag, a flood of culture shock, and a sprinkling of what the hell have we done. But THIS year has been different. And wonderful. And so not what you'd think Christmas in a country like Turkey would be. 

First off, the New Year is celebrated here with much of the same decorations you'd find at Christmas - minus the nativities of course.

This was the biggest tree we found. Most stores sell sad little Charlie Brown trees. 

We can even find Santas if we look closely enough... although this guy was hard to miss:

Speaking of Santas, Micah is not a huge fan. The smile in the picture above is a bit on the edge. Max and Clara, however, are still huge fans. We got to see plenty of Santas at different events here.

At our U.S. Military Christmas Party:

At the Ambassador's Christmas party:

Micah was hiding behind the Christmas tree where apparently certain unmentionable deeds were occuring:

Christmas is also the season for SONG. What would Christmas be without the carols? And thanks to my wonderful Ankara A'Cappella, I got plenty of it! From Silent Night to Up On the Housetop... we covered it all. Singing loud for all to hear IS the best way to spread Christmas cheer. Değil mi?

We sang at the Vatican Church, the U.S. Ambassador's Residence, the British Ambassador's Residence, and the Anglican Church. Well, they sang... I played the piano. 

 

The Anglican Church was my favorite venue... mainly because a lovely seeing-eye dog sat next to the piano and farted the entire time. Audibly. It wasn't such a "silent night."

After singing comes the baking. And I sang as I baked and baked and baked.  

I made 2 zillion cookies - for raffles, silent auctions, cookie exchanges, embassy gifts, party gifts, and a few to let my poor children eat.

 

I made some cakes for various events too:

Driving this snowman intact to it's destination in Turkish traffic was our First Christmas Miracle.

A cake for an artist friend:

 

I had a wonderful opportunity to teach a gingerbread class. I'm telling you, our apartment smelled like a gingerbread heaven for weeks.

And a cake for the cutest 3 year old birthday boy in the world:

My little man loves all thing Batman (and Hulk, and Ironman, and Superman) so Christmas and his birthday were very exciting for him!

His school also had a birthday celebration with much singing and dancing. I contributed the Batman cookies.

Other than birthday parties, December in Turkey was a month of many grown-up parties, per our normal.

Good thing K had a snazzy sweater to wear. It was an early Christmas present from me because I'm the best and nobody beats me.

 He got a lot of use out of that sweater! And as my friend Rachel would say - "and you thought the towel was terrible!" 

My wonderful friends representing the world - those who do and even those who don't celebrate Christmas still enjoy the spirit of it all. I love these ladies.

 

Let's not forget the various school performances and parties:

Sadly, not everything was merry and bright. Our sweet birdie Şeker died. It was quite sad.

He will be missed by all.

Thankfully we had Bernie our elf visiting this year again to cheer us up and make us laugh. I'm glad he had an atlas and could find Turkey! 

And then our favorite day/night of the year - Christmas Eve - arrived.  No parties, no entertaining, just  100% just this crazy, t-shirt coordinating, dorky game playing, family, together. We watched movies, ate ribs and cheesecake, played a game or two, fed the reindeers, opened our PJs, and then laid in bed trying to sleep despite our anticipation of the morning.

MORNING!

So, this was our December in Turkey. It totally rocked. 

Take Me Back to Constantinople

Before the trip we made a wish list of the places we wanted to see. Max was adamant that he wanted to go to the Dolmabahce Palace since he was studying it in school, K wanted to see the cisterns, I wanted to see the Grand Bazaar, and of course we had to see the Aya Sofia, Top Kapi, and Blue Mosque. 

The only way to do all of this was to hire a tour guide who could meet us at our apartment, bypass lines, get us on public transport easily, and guide us to the best (quick) food.

Enter Rıza, the Best Guide Ever:

I learned more about history from this guy than from any history class I took in school. 

Like:

Istanbul was the capital of the Roman Empire, the Byzantine Empire, the Latin Empire and the Ottoman Empire. In 1923 after Turkey kicked out the Ottomans and became a republic, Ataturk renamed the city Istanbul (meaning "to the city," an informal term that had been used for ages) and moved the capitol to Ankara. A law was written that any mail addressed to Constantinople would be sent back. 

The Grand Bazaar was the first covered shopping "mall" in the world. Today it has over 4000 shops. Dude.

Istanbul sits on a major fault line and earthquakes have done a number on the city throughout the ages. It's still a threat, as seen by the huge earthquake in 1999 that killed between 20,000 and 40,000 (estimates were all over the place) in nearby Izmit. 

Tulips are from Turkey. Not Holland. They were a beloved flower of Suleiman the Magnificent (an Ottoman Sultan) and a stolen bulb made it's way out of the palace and into Europe.

and that.......

Suleiman wore epic head gear:

We started the day by riding the tram across Galata Bridge over to the Aya Sofia. Or Hagia Sofia as it's also written. There is no Saint Sofia, the name means Holy Wisdom of God. The building standing today is the third one built on that site, started in 532 by Byzantine Emperor Justinian. It was built in under 5 years after the Nika riots that nearly destroyed the city. From an Orthodox Church to Roman Catholic, back to Orthodox, then converted to a mosque, and now, since 1935, a museum, the Hagia Sofia has been one busy place. Whew.

(google pic:)

 

The history in this mighty structure is immense. Even the architecture was pioneering. Hagia Sofia stood as the tallest church for over 1000 years with a massive dome unparalleled by anything else.

Click here for a fascinating description of how the mighty dome was engineered.

 

The Hagia Sofia was the seat of Christian Orthodoxy for 900 years. In 1204, it was attacked by the Latin crusaders and became a Roman Catholic Cathedral. Shortly thereafter, in 1260, the Byzantines recaptured the church.

In 1453 Constantinople was conquered by the Ottomans. Immediately, Sultan Mehmet II declared that Hagia Sofia was from then on a mosque.

How do you change a church to a mosque?

First, you add your minarets. Next, you take off the horizontal bars that formed crosses and stick them on the top to form an arrow. The above picture is the doors of the Imperial Gate where you can clearly see where the crosses used to be.

Next, you cover up all the Christian mosiacs and icons. In the above picture you can see in the middle is the plaster with geometric decoration used to cover up the Christian mural. The one on the left has since been restored with the plaster carefully removed. The one on the right did not survive the restoration.

Above, a seraphim that has had it's face revealed. Next, one that hasn't yet...

Hagia Sofia was built in 5 years. That is amazing! But to do it, they had to be resourceful in what they used... which was usually remnants of other ancient structures. These columns below are from the  Temple of Artemis - one of the ancient wonders of the world. How cool is that?!

There are massive amounts of marble in the Hagia Sofia. To cut them was extremely laborius (I think they did it with horse hair and water?) So evenutally they took a few shortcuts and just painted the walls to look like marble.

The marble on the right is real, on the left is painted.

It's amazing that in such an earthquake prone area that a structure like this is still standing. You can see how it's been damaged if you look closely. 

Scaffolding is a must now for additional support in this 1500 year old building.

An uncovered mural of the Virgin Mary holding Jesus, flanked by Justinian and Constantine. Breathtaking!

The Hagia Sofia ended up being my favorite, thanks in huge part to our wonderful tour guide. No visit to Istanbul is complete without seeing this structure... and if I were to recommend only one thing to do in Istanbul, it would be this!

For more (and better information) read THIS ARTICLE.

Click here for a little ditty by Rick Steves.

Why Did Constantinople Get the Works? Read On! (Part One)

Finally, for pleasure, we got to visit the wonderful city of Istanbul. The city where east meets west, where Europe and Asia collide, a city with SO much history that it would take a lifetime or more to uncover all of it's secrets. 

Istanbul is about a four hour drive straight from Ankara. Easy peasy, right? Well, yes, it's a four hour drive, but getting into the Asian side of Istanbul is JUST the beginning. We jiggied around, rented a shuttle, crossed some busy bridges, and finally landed smack dab in the heart of Beyoğlu - on the European side. At first our driver was concerned that the largeish vehicle wouldn't fit on the street, but in Turkey anything is possible when driving. As long as you put your asshat on.

We pulled up to this:

We essentially walked through a restaurant on a pedestrian street, and had to climb 95 stairs (Ninety FIVE Stairs... NINETY FIVE STAIRS) to get to our rental apartment. Thankfully it IS Turkey and everyone working nearby picked up a suitcase/stroller/bag etc. and lugged it up the stairs for us. Asshats are reserved only for cars. I've said it before, Turks are THE most hospitible people on the earth. (And they expect no tip.)

I found this little spot on the internet and you're never quite sure what to expect. But boy oh boy, we didn't expect this:

That's the view from our rooftop balcony. Those 95 dark marble steps of death and destruction were WORTH it. "Could we just spend the next 4 days up here," I wondered to myself?

No way. Istanbul was waiting for us!

 Our first evening was spent wandering our neighborhood and eating at a place right under the Galata Tower, which was just steps from our apartment. 

 

The tower was built in the early 1300s and has a varied history since then. It is an imposing landmark that you can see from most anywhere in Istanbul. Here it is from across the Golden Horn:

The arrow in the next picture points to our apartment:

To get a better feel for the layout of Istanbul, check out this map.

You can see the Bosphorus - which connects the Mediterranean with the Black Sea - and the offshoot to the left which is the inlet called the Goldern Horn. The northern part (Galata) is connected to the southern part (Sultanahmet area which includes all the major tourist sites) via the Galata Bridge. The eastern piece of land is the "Asian side" and where you must enter the city if coming from anywhere in Turkey.

We walked across the Galata bridge our first morning there to get to Sultanahmet and had a wonderful breakfast under the bridge while watching the fisherman cast their lines. 

Of course Turkish Coffee was on the menu:

And Micah - our simit addict - insisted on it every time we saw some. Which was like every 5 seconds. I love this next picture... check out the guy's smile on the right while he watches Micah. Typical reaction.

Our first full day of touring started at the Spice Market, known as the Mısır Carşısı, or the Egyptian Market. It was a wonderful kind of assault on the sights and senses!

Max ate enough lokum (fresh Turkish Delight of ALL varieties!) that I was briefly worried about the 150 year old plumbling in our apartment. Micah indulged too, but Clara was a bit picky.

 

The market was built in the 1600s and I like envisioning it in the olden days:

Later that afternoon we took a boat tour of the Bosphorus. Totally wonderful and worth seeing all of the castle ruins and palaces built north along the Bosphorus shores.

The boat made some of us sleepy.

That evening we rode the trolley up Istiklal Sokak to Taksim Square - the heart of modern Istanbul and the place of major protests just a year ago.

Istiklal is a hip, vibrant place with modern stores, new restaurants and a SHAKE SHACK! Guys, you can only eat so much kebap before mama needs a hamburger that doesn't stink of lamb. Turkish food is not incredibly varied. Except for this waffle abomination:

Pickled creamy mystery veg on waffles anyone? 

Speaking of kebap, Micah has decided that Adana Kebap is the food of the Gods. He couldn't have chosen a more pungent, more lamb-y dish if he tried. And it pretty much looks like a giant turd.

After a FULL first day, we came home and crashed... only after playing a myriad of dorky family games first... and some evening wine on our terrace!

The next morning we met up with our hired tour guide. We wanted to make the most of our time in the city and figured we couldn't do it alone. He was AWESOME. But it's too much to blog for now... so part two coming soon!

 

My Visit to a Turkish Hamam

I held out for almost a year, but I decided that it was finally time to visit a Turkish Hamam. "A Ha-What," you ask? A hamam is a Turkish bath - a place to go to sit in hot rooms, get scrubbed down, and drink tea. NAKED.

Okay, not totally naked. Just mostly. 

Hamams date back to the Ottoman Empire and functioned not only as places to bathe, but as places to socialize (who's going to marry whom), admire beautiful architecture (be impressed by the opulance of your sultan!), and to perform religious cleansings. In modern Turkey hamams have certainly declined in number and it's not as common as it used to be. 

So, the thought of a naked scrub down didn't automatically appeal to me. Call me a prude if you'd like. But when I was approached to join a group of ladies, that just so happen to be my wonderful friends, and enjoy a haman experience at a fancy hotel, well... it was time. And after almost a month of single parenting, in a country not my own, a country with cranky border neighbors, an almost 3 year old who refuses to use the potty, and a dog that has giardia and explosive diarrhea... MOMMA NEEDED A NAKED SCRUB DOWN. I mean an almost naked one. I needed to exfoliate a bit of my life off.

We started off with general access to the "hamam area." Technically the hamam is a single room with a large heated round stone in the middle (göbek taşı) and sinks with copper bowls around the edge. This is a picture of the exact hamam I was in - pulled from the internet, as are the rest of the pictures.

Ancient hamams in Istanbul:

The hamam area I used also included a sauna, steam room, pool and jacuzzi. And everything was spotlessly clean. I would venture to guess that every hamam in Turkey is very clean.

First, you want to sweat. You can lay on the hot stone, or in my case, go to the sauna. I wasn't sure about splaying myself out in the middle of a gorgeous room when I was unsure whether or not it was co-ed. I never did see any men in there, but I didn't really need that in my life. After sweating in the sauna, I went to a private room (Thank God) for my scrub. Normally, this is done on the stone slab in front of everyone else, but at more upscale places you get your own room.

A lovely woman wearing a bathing suit came in and instructed me to disrobe and lay on a long stone slab. She started running water into a basin with no drain. She donned a mitt much like this one:

It's called a Kese and it's bascially sandpaper in glove form. Well, according to my sensory nerves at least. 

As I lay there in all my glory - with the disposable underwear they give you and wedge into neverland, she starts scrubbing.  It didn't hurt per se, but that's coming from someone who survived birthing 2 children and the "wax-ccident" of 2010. It was quite invigorating and after 15 minutes she had successful removed an entire me that now lay strewn in pieces all around the room. At first it was a bit Silence of the Lamb's-ish as I kid you not, you could have made an entire skin suit from what lay behind. But she assured me this was normal. If normal is disgusting, than coolio. And I promise you I shower every day.

The next was the BEST. As I lay all newly molted with my exoskeleton on the floor, my lovely lady took a magic bag, blew in it, and enveloped me in silkly olive oil bubbles. It was black magic!

JUST LIKE THIS (minus the men):

I wanted to frolic, make a bubble beard, roll around all giddy-like... but I didn't. I let her slowly massage the soap all over my new self as I sat wondering if I should buy her flowers, or at least call her in the morning?

We're not done yet.

After the bubbles of joy, she had me sit up. She then took one of the copper bowls (a tas) and dumped warm water all over me. Over and over. She took more soap and scrubbed my hair, then dumped even more water right over the top of my head... faster and faster. Right before the line was crossed to waterboarding, she stopped and wrapped me in a peştamal - a Turkish Hamam towel. I knew about these and their reputation for super absorbancy while being extremely thin. I already own 3 and LOVE them.

Now I was officially done and....

I HAVE NEVER BEEN CLEANER IN MY LIFE.

Please note that it is important to not do anything after a hamam treatment. You must sit and drink tea or coffee and chat with your friends. In my case, I was escorted to a room with hot stone lounge chairs, labeled as a "Resting Room" and was ordered to drink tea. 

So, do I recommend you visit a Turkish Hamam? Yes I do! As I near 40, I've found myself embracing my body and caring much less what others think and see.  Nothing can help that more than to do things that force yourself to "shed" your shame. It's true that 24 hours later parts of me may still be jiggling, but if you could feel my silky honey smoothness you'd be sold too! And most importantly, what happens in Hamam stays in Hamam. Except for all the stuff I just told you about.

Hamams: Shed your shame and your skin!

 

 

 

A Blue Bus, the Balkans, and Beaches

I am an incredibly lucky person to have a friend - a best friend - who lives in one of the most beautiful places on earth. I'm even luckier that he allowed our loud and crazy family to come and visit him and his family. 

 

 

 

The little village of Dulac, near Primosten in Croatia was our final destination... but first we had to get there. We always look for the cheapest plane tickets and then try to add a little adventure. This time it was Ankara - Istanbul - Sarajevo with a stayover in Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina.

To be discreet we rented this:

The minute we drove out of the airport and onto a highway, the weirdest thing happened. Someone yielded to us. I had totally forgotten about yielding! They don't have a word or an action for that in Turkish. At least I don't think so.

We got ourselves safely to the beautiful town of Mostar. 

I have to admit that I'm quite ignorant on the history of the Balkan region, and since our trip (and even during our trip) I've learned so much about the conflicts here. The bridge you see in the above picture is the Stari Most and was first built in the mid 1500s. It survived the Ottomans, the Austro Hungarians, WWI and WWII, but was destroyed on purpose in 1993 during the Croat-Bosnian War. It stood for 427 years! It is now rebuilt from the original pieces that fell in the river below.

A view of our villa from the bridge:

A night view of the bridge from atop our villa. 

 

We spent the evening exploring the old town. 

We even got to see someone dive from the bridge - although we hear this is a common occurance and yes, we donated some money to his "bravery."

 Before we set off the next morning for our trek to Croatia, we enjoyed breakfast at our villa. We've missed our sliced meats and it was dee-lee-cious!!!! Clara ate her weight in salami. 

On our way out of BiH we stopped at the Vrelo Bune - an underground water source from a mountain spring. An old Sufi Monestery sits next to it.

 The river starts here, directly from the mountain.

We then took a rainy, mountainous-turned-coastal drive to our place in Croatia... we couldn't believe how beautiful it was!

And how wonderful it was to be reunited with my friend Andrej!

The view from our upstairs apartment, newly built from the house below where Andrej spent his childhood:

The Beach The Beach The Beach!

The kids could not get enough beach time! Whereas we wanted to tour around the beautiful country, we had three little mouths going on and on about the beach. 

So we did a lot of beach-ing.

When I asked Micah if he wanted to get in the water he would say "No, it's too wet." I'd ask what we wanted to do instead, and he'd say "Throw rocks. At people."  That pretty much sums it up.

Our first morning there we heard a truck drive up around 8am. Much to the kids delight, it was the morning village bakery truck and Andrej decided to get everything on it. (Apparently he pissed off the entire rest of the village who got nothing.) 

I ate strudel, donuts, and rolls every morning and gained 2000 pounds.

 

The kids haven't had a donut in over 8 months. They each ate 2 every morning. And sometimes a 3rd in the afternoon.

Morning Bakery Deliveries. Best idea ever!!

And in the afternoons the fish guy comes with his fresh catch.

Andrej's father gutted and cleaned them in the sea and cooked them to perfection.

The kids devored it.

 We were able to drag the kids away from the beach for a day outing to the close by city of Trogir:

 This is an amazing little city built on an island and has been continuously inhabited for over 2300 years - founded by the Greeks, then the Romans, and then the Venetians.

The streets were like mazes and the city is surrounded by medieval walls.

The Cathedral of St. Lawrence in the heart of the city:

Max and Clara were repenting for all the times they ever fought (there's actually not enough time in the world to accomplish that):

We climbed the bell tower to enjoy the amazing views:

And of course stopped for ice cream:

A view from atop the medieval castle:

For dinners we were spoiled with a wonderful little restaurant, literally right next door to where we were staying.  It has the BEST pizza.

Croatian beer isn't bad, either.

There were plenty of places to go on evening walks in anticipation of the sunset:

 

But the best place to watch the sunset was the front porch with Andrej. It was the perfect atmosphere to pick his brain about the history of the house, Croatia, and growing up in such a dynamically changing region. I'm glad he's smart... and patient!

Sunsets also pair nicely with wine. Local wine - made by the extended family here.

Going... going...

Gone...

This nightly ritual is one I could get used to!

Our next day trip was out to the beautiful wonder of Krka National Park:

The village of Dulac, where we were staying, is just north of the famous city on an island - Primosten.

(Google image:)

We spent a couple of early evenings exploring this place, eating crepes, and watching fancy yachts go in and out.

And when I say "eating crepes" I mean squirting the contents of them down your shirt:

This is the look of the rich and famous strolling the island!!

On another evening we visited Andrej's father's childhood village. I had noticed how wonderfully fragrant the olive oil was and was excited to find out that it was made by another member of the extended family who still lives in the village.

It was so picturesque!

I even got to take home my own freshly pressed olive oil.

We got a lovely view of Primosten on the drive back down from the valley:

Every time we ate, we always enjoyed wonderful proscuitto and cheese beforehand. I remarked at how delicious it was and was soon on my way to the home of another member of the extended family for a kilo of their homemade proscuitto to take home. Keith remarked that I needed to stop complimenting stuff because we were running out of packing room!



Just north of Dulac is the town of Sibenik... another beautiful old city that unlike the others, was actually founded by Croats.

This next pic is one of my favorite from the trip - taken in one of the million little winding alley ways in Sibenik.

On the way home from Sibenik, Andrej showed us this wonderful little hidden diner behind a truck stop with the BEST FOOD:

I've since become obsessed with Pasticada Dalmatinska - probably the most well known dish from the Dalamation region. It is a slowed cooked red wine pot roast served with gnocchi. It was amazing and I ate all of K's. He loves when I do that.

Despite the multitude of beautiful, historical, and vibrant places all around, our best memories were made at the villa with Andrej and his gracious family.

 

Sadly, we had to eventually pack it up (at the butt-crack of dawn) and take the big blue bus back to Sarajevo and catch our flight home.

We had such a FANTASTIC time and consider ourselves beyond fortunate to have such welcoming friends in such beautiful parts of the world. Thanks Andrej, Danko, and Boris!!!!

Ingilizce Biliyor Musunuz?

There are many times throughout the week when the enormity of living abroad with 3 young kids sits on my chest like an elephant. The stress is tiring and requires that I take a few extra moments (naps) to process and prepare for the next week.

Everything is a little bit harder. Some things are a lot harder. Nothing is easier.

I find myself comparing my experience here with the three years we spent living in England. We arrived there without children, were much younger, and had vastly different expectations. I often tell people that I expected England to be like America - just add tea and a jazzy accent. But after a few months of living there, I discovered that I was wrong. Very very wrong and that Britain is nothing like America. Living there was also difficult and everything was a little bit harder.

The one gigantic advantage I had going for me in England was the language. Yes, you can argue that it's a different English, but at least I knew that when I left my house to accomplish something, that I would for the most part understand and be understood. The part of England where we lived had a very thick accent but it was still the same language. I laugh at myself now thinking about how frustrated I was!

I grew leaps and bounds in England and treasure what those three years taught me. It prepared me for this current adventure in that I came with much different expectations and a tad more wisdom.

But of course you can't be prepared for everything - and I'm looking at YOU oh language that is Turkish.

Turkish is a fascinating language and I often approach it like I am solving a puzzle. The entire language makes sense once you undertand the rules - unlike English where breaking rules IS the rule. In Turkish there are no female/male forms (ie his/her/it). The verb comes last, making each sentence a big huge mystery until you get to the end. Pronouns are added as suffixes onto the end of words (m for me, n for you, throw in a z to be polite or indicate we... etc). To negate a verb you throw an m in the middle of it and change the accented syllable. I highly recommend not missing those m's! Question sentences use a question particle at the end - that also takes suffixes. Cans, Ifs, Musts, are different particles inserted into the middle of the words. There are endless suffixes.

Did you know that Turkish comes from a group of languages called the Altaic group which includes Korean and Finnish? If you knew this, then color me surpised. I searched all over the internet looking for percentages of the world's population who speaks Turkish - ie, where it ranks- and I couldn't get a firm number. Definitely not in the top ten, more likely nearing towards 20th. Although more people speak Turkish then Italian.

A Few Facts About Turkish and Me (I like facts... they are warm blankets that make me feel secure)

1. I took about 20 weeks of Turkish instruction, one on one with an instructor. That is A LOT.

2. I understand the language and grammar. I get it! It is hard and complicated and totally different from anything I've ever tried to understand before, but I GET IT.

3. I have a large Turkish vocabulary. And the language has FAR fewer words than English.

4. I can read and get the main points of many newspaper articles.

5. I still attend language lessons once a week.

6. If I'd spent this much time trying to learn Spanish, French, or Italian, I'd be fluent in all three. (OK, this isn't a fact, merely speculation)

And for my last fact...

7. Despite 1-6, I still suck at Turkish.

I know this because everyday that I take Micah to school, they tell me something and I screw it up. (It took me 3 tries to buy the right kind of white pants for his school concert. And during those three tries at three stores, I screwed up trying to communicate with the retail workers.) This is one example of a million dumb mom screw ups at the school. I feel very lame when my kid is the only one without a kite, is wearing the wrong clothes, and shows up at the wrong times. I want to shout "I am an educated responsible mother and I was the queen of being a perfect preschool mom in America where I could UNDERSTAND what was being said!!"

During drop offs and pick ups the teachers always sit and chat with the parents. I'm a chatter and hate being left out, so one day I got my nerve up and told his teacher about how we had taken an adventurous drive up Apple Mountain on the outskirts of Ankara. She looked at me like I was on crack. As I was driving home and thinking about my Turkish I realized that I had told her that next weekend we will drive an apple up a mountain. 

When I go to the market every other day I always end up with something different or much more than I asked for.... although I think that is my fruit guy wanted to unload all of his old fruit on me.

I practice Turkish daily on my ever-patient housekeeper. Many times she resorts to finishing my sentences when my brain locks up - which is constant. Thank God she's a great mind-reader and has worked for Americans before!

Some days I feel like I am continually bashing my head on a wall. A wall that doesn't speak English.  On a recent trip to a kid's play place at one of the 2 billion malls here I had an EPIC adventure in Turkish as I had to:

• Convince them that I understood their sign and indeed, that I knew laser tag was only supposed to cost 5 lira (getting ripped off is an entirely different set of frustrations)
• Discover that I needed a card loaded with money to do any activity
• Understand the workers at each activity entrance
• Discover that Clara needed to be wearing socks (how did I not know the word for socks??)
• Leave and buy said socks at another place

        (quick reminder, it is very rare to find an English speaker here)

• Find that I hadn't loaded enough money on the cards for a full hour of play
• Ask them not to blow dry my kids sweaty hair upon their exit (seriously... what the?)
• Locate their shoes
• Go to the food court and order in Turkish with 3 kids yelling at me in English what they wanted... it was at this point that my head almost imploded and I came home, slumped on my bed and took a Turkish-free nap.

And in full disclosure, I even had an experienced friend helping me - although she doesn't speak Turkish either - just Arabic. And the two languages are totally different. It was like the Tower of Babel.

So I'm nursing a bruised ego here in this foreign land. Most things in the past that I've put this much effort towards have come much easier. I was brill at speaking the proper Queen's English and learnt it in a chivvy! Is there a thick candy shell on my brain? Has having three kids eroded some essential myelin sheaths? Have I inadvertantly eaten paint chips? Oh Lord, am I not as smart as I think I am?

A part of me wonders (and doubts my dedication) when I think about the usefulness of the language after we leave here, but while we're still on the upswing of our stay, I'm going to keep trying. And when I say try I mean sound like a fool.

_____________________________________________________________

Micah in the correct white shorts during his TWO HOUR AND TWENTY minute concert:

 

 When in doubt, just sound it out:

 

 

The Karadeniz - Black Sea

Our latest adventure in Turkey took us to the Black Sea town of Trabzon. I don't know why it's called the Black Sea. According to the Internets, in ancient times it was called the Inhospitable Sea until the Greeks figured out how to navigate it thus changing the name to Hospitable Sea - neither of which having to do with being Black... but I do know that it is a wonderful, beautiful part of Turkey. It amazes me that six countries border this huge sea. 

The Black Sea region is a very culturally unique part of Turkey that isn't all that similar to big cities like Ankara.

For example:

The accent. Turkish is hard enough. Turkish with a different accent? Impossible. The accent in this part of the country is described by city-folk as "country" or "village-talk."

Green. So so so green.

Mountainous. Like the ALPS!

Lots of corn, hazelnuts, tea, and folk dancers. And lots of conservatively covered women. Case in point, the current P.M. is from there.

We had a long, but fun 3 days of touring around with 160 of our best friends - our international community here in Ankara.  

 

We spent a lot of time on our tour buses looking out at the beautiful countryside:

The bus made some of us very sleepy. This was good since it was our only chance to grab a nap every day!

We visited many different historical sights in and around Trabzon - Ataturk's House, Ayasofya, knife making shops, musuems, etc. We were hosted at a picnic reception and taken to wonderful, traditional restaurants.

With my Hellenic friend - we wield knives!

Max and his posse - we named them the Three Musketeers:

My Black Sea Beauty:

Despite the different venues, lunch everyday was the same three options - köfte, chicken, or fresh fish. Always choose the fresh fish (everything else tastes like mutton)!

The best baklava I've had yet:

The area is know for hazelnuts (fındık) and I do believe it makes the BEST baklava. I'm of the opinion that the majority of baklava is too syrupy, soggy and tasteless. This however, was nutty, toasty, crispy, and flavorful. I'm the queen judge of baklava.

Hazelnut Butter:

 

Traditional dancing:

 

Trabzon itself, is very much a sea-side port city. We explored the city center a bit and accidentally ate McDonalds because Micah saw it and subjected about 30 people to an hour of a striking oral rendition of "FRENCH FRIES! FRENCH FRIES! OK GUYS? OK!"

On another evening, he just skipped dinner altogether and ate scraps from strangers in a park. True Story.

But börek in bed is also acceptable:

Being a cute two year old and the center of attention is exhausting!

 My favorite part of our tour was the time we spent in the mountains. It was absolutely stunning.

Many of the villages up in the mountains have been bought and revitalized by money from the Middle East - Saudi Arabia in particular. It's not hard to recognize.

 

Another beautiful lunch spot with an old stone bridge. 

 

This is Uzungöl (Long Lake) in the Kaçkar mountains:

It was like a postcard.

 

My Macedonian, Croatian, and Bangladeshi friends:

 

We walked all around the lake, sampled the food, and bought local crafts. 

Max and Clara were BIG fans of the corn.

 

Everytime we saw a corn stand, we had to stop. (In case you're interested, sweet, pale yellow Utah corn beats the heck out of this stuff.)

On our last day there, we visited the Sumela Monestary. This was definitely the highlight of our trip!

Can you see it up there? Clinging to the side of the mountain? Now, can you imagine how a Turk would drive up the mountain? Yeah, we almost died a million times.

But it was worth it!

(pic from Google...)

The Sumela Monestary was built in 386 AD and fell in and out of ruin since then. You can read about this amazing place here. Definitely rich with Greek history!

Clara was having a moment:

Had it not been for a rainstorm, lots of steps, lots of people, and hyper kids, I may have enjoyed it a tiny bit more. I spent most of the time making sure no one was falling off cliffs.

But it was truly an amazing place!

(another pic from google...)

But the best moment of our trip was yet to happen. I had been cursing the fact that our flight back to Ankara left Trabzon at 10:20pm. After three very full days of little sleep and little kids, I was thinking it was going to be a disaster waiting at the airport. But instead, this happened.

There was enough of us that we took up the entire flight and we dominated the gate area. Many of us had our children with us and they somehow - instead of breaking down - formed a circle and tossed a ball.  This went on for at least an hour. As I sat and watched I counted kids from 15 different countries - getting along, laughing, catering to the younger ones (read Micah), and giving all of us exhausted adults a chance to sit down and breathe. I'd seen it happen in smaller groups throughout our trip, especially with Max and Clara latching on to very patient older kids who'd listen and play with them.

But to me, this was a lesson. Kids always teach us. They have no agendas, no prejudice, just the desire to enjoy life. Maybe we should elect this group to a new U.N. Council?!

And in another development, I was excited to get home. Home as in Ankara. I actually visualized coming home and doing laundry here. Odd to mention this, I know, but ever since we've been here and away from Ankara, I always would by habit picture our trip ending with us back in our home in Virginia. But this time it was Ankara. Just another level of adjustment reached - but a significant one that my fellow international friends will appreciate.

Ankara (HOME) by sky:

 

The Scouts Take On Cappadocia

Both Max and Clara participated in scouts this past year and their culminating event was a camp out this weekend. We're not necessarily a "camping" family, but we do have some flashlights, MREs and a tent. Well, most of a tent. (More on that later.) Micah and I weren't up for going, but K and the kids certainly couldn't pass up a campout in the mystical, fantastical Cappadocia.

Despite having done a "test setup" of our tent (K swears he did but I have doubts), there was a minor trauma when they discovered there were no tent stakes. Where could they be? Most likely a warehouse somewhere in America with the rest of our stuff.

Oops. Have I mentioned how HARD it is to pack most of your life in storage and to make sure you have your essentials with you? Tent stakes, people. They're ESSENTIAL.

Thankfully, other fully prepared scout parents had extra stakes and K was able to scrounge up enough. Whew!

Max spent an hour in the tent drawing with a cute girl from his class that he may or may not have a serious crush on. K told this cute girl's dad - "Yeah, Max is in love with your daughter. They've been alone in our tent for an hour." Then he cackled and walked off.

There was a lot of kick ball games, geocaching, and hiking the first day. K divided his time between the Weebelos and Daisies. 

Mr. Rock Star Dad:

Because he was feeling lazy like he needed to spend time with Clara, K decided to join the "easy" Daisy hike rather than the Cub Scout hike. According to his account and various other texts from friends... it was HARD CORE / DEATH DEFYING / OMG, how is this OK for 7 year old girls????

According to Clara's account, it was the best hike of her LIFE.

Her best friend Lilly:

Ascending the "Cliffs of Insanity" (K swore he could hear the music playing):

Almost to the top... I think there might be a man down in this next picture:

By all accounts, this was "scary even for the adults" with "SHEER DROPOFFS!" I read all these frantic texts warm from my napping bed yesterday afternoon, just snickering to myself.

At the top!

Clara was feeling very full of herself:

After some rest and relaxation there was dinner and the bridging ceremonies to 2nd year Webelos and Brownies.

I'm pretty sure everyone slept well that night, but starting at 5:30am K and the kids were awoken by these:

 

Poor K - he hasn't slept past 5:30am in Turkey EVAH. Calls to prayer, roosters, now hot air balloon compressors. He did admit that it was a pretty cool sight to see:

It was literally next to the campsite:

The rest of the day was spent horse back riding.

K was given the "naughty horse." Any misbehaving was ALL the horses fault. Ok?!

 

All in all, this was an amazing experience for K and the kids. There's a fusion of culture here that I'm very thankful for. We have this amazing beautiful country at our disposal, yet the comaraderie, organizations, and friendships of American families living here. Combine this with local friends helping out with tours and it's pretty much a perfect way to experience living overseas with kids. 

And what does Micah and mom do at home alone all weekend with no car?

Par-TAY!!!

 

What's Hot What's Not

We're almost to the six month mark. How can that be? Time is flying by here as we find ourselves busy busy busy. And for the most part, really enjoying it.

I thought I'd make a current list of things we LOVE and things that are "challenges." 

Number 1: Max and Clara's School. BIG LOVE. It's rather hard to describe because it doesn't really fall into any typcial category. It is a DoD school but really in name and curriculum only. In essence, it is more of an international school. There are over 35 countries represented at this small K-12 school. There are only 6 native english speakers in Clara's class and just a few more than that in Max's class. Max's best friend is Ukrainian and it has impressed Max to no-end that he knows multiple languages. It has also peaked his interest in current events and I know he discusses these things at school. Max has crushes on about 4 different girls at a time and Clara keeps me up to date about who says what at recess. Max and Clara often play together at recess bringing their classes together with them. 

A couple of months ago the school celebrated their International Day. That was when my eyes were really opened to what kind of school it is. 

The cafeteria was turned into a big food expo - AMAZING FOOD - where each country had a booth. I ate bulgogi, german pretzels, tiramisu, and much more. Some Indian families offered a fundraiser with henna painting that I also participated in. Just a few of the things going on that day!

Afterwards was an assembly with traditional dances and a program put on by the students.

Lastly, was the parade of nations - just like the Olympics. I just giggled when after all these elaborate country costumes, the USA kids mostly were wearing Old Navy shirts. Well, at least mine were!

It was truly a moving event. After school that day I told Max and Clara how lucky they were to have the opportunity to be at this school and to be exposed to such wonderful diversity. And thankfully, they love going to school each day too.

The school bus system here in Turkey is quite different than in the U.S. For starters, the buses are white and are more like mini-luxury buses that you'd travel long distances on. In addition to the driver is a bus moniter who is very serious about their job... mainly getting kids to the right places, securely. So I like the buses. But what I DON'T like is that when the bus is stopped and my kids are getting off, other cars going the speed of light will pass the bus. Even OTHER SCHOOL BUSES pass stopped buses. What the? 

2. I love our front yard. Well, once you get past the scary bus passing buses road. Just a stones throw away is an amazing beautiful park. And now that it is spring it is just glorious. 

Penny approves.

The view from our roof looking across the park:

What I DON'T love about the park are the wild dogs. Well, that's not totally true. I do love these poor creatures, I'm just scared of them. So far, these starving pack dogs have just followed us growling, trying to intimidate Penny. I can pretend to throw a rock at them and they will back off. However, last week we were surrounded by about 5 dogs... albeit puppy dogs! Their cuteness overrode my fear, although I restrained myself from petting them. Penny utterly ignored them whereas she typcially loves puppies. I think there is something different enough about these wild dogs that Penny doesn't even relate to them on any dog level. Or maybe she is SO annoyed by their yapping all night that she's being all passive aggressive. And when I say yapping, I mean insanely loud and echoing nightly dog shenangians all throughout the park. 

Domesticated, sissy dogs warm in their beds be all:

3. I love our apartment. It took a while, but I'm really feeling quite comfortable in it. It's quite a bit smaller than the house we moved from, but that's OK. It's cozy, but yet offers enough room for us all to have our own "space." And with a Max and a Clara and a Micah, and a Penny and a love bird,  (yes, we now have a Squawy McSquawkerton parrot thing) - that is important. 

UNFORTUNATELY, our feeling of comfort has been muted lately due to heavy construction on our building. They are "jacketing" our building with foam - each piece being drilled in with 5 screws. Thousands of times over. Then plastered, scraped, painted, ....oh lord... it's been epic. Power outages, lights not working, exposed wires, elevator disassembled every day then put back together differently every time, falling debris, etc. Then they took off all of our balcony guard rails! We have hoards of workers looking in our windows. We've been living in a construction zone! 

But at least there's always hot tea:

 

4. Saturdays. I LOVE our Saturdays. They are busy and can be hectic, but it is a great time for our kids to be outside with soccer, scouts, basketball, fun runs, office olympics, embassy events and mingling picnics.

 

Micah and his all-female fan club:

UNFORTUNATELY, you can't always be on time to all of your events.

Backing out of my garage should be an olympic event! And just TRY not driving over curbs, sidewalks, and into fields of debris in this city. It's a miracle our tires have lasted this long!

5. The night life. I LOVE it. I also love to boogie.

Our job here entails a bit of fanciness.

Being the people person that I am, I ADORE all the opportunites that we have here to socialize. And eat. And then eat some more. Just ask my ass... it can attest.

Plus I get the chance to make my hair fancy and wear fancy clothes. And I always manage to score a hot date.

So when I sit and think about it - at 6 months in -  the positives FAR outweigh any gripe I may have (and I even left out the never ending curse of the "Turkey Trots"). Our experience and life here is so incredibly rich - for the entire family. Even for Penny... who's probably the first dog in the world to enjoy a nice Sunday afternoon ferris wheel ride.

Fazıl Say

A couple of years ago, my Turkish mentor introduced me to the Turkish composer and pianist Fazıl Say. I was blown away to say the least and I made it a number one goal to see him perform in person once in Turkey. Last week my dream came true!

In my opinion, of anyone I've ever seen perform live (or even on youtube), Fazıl Say comes the absolute closest to how I would envision Beethoven performing. He doesn't play music, he IS music. 

Playing Beethoven's  Appassionata - with his own flair.

Playing Beethoven's Piano Concerto #3

His style is a hybrid of romantic, modern, and sometimes even jazzy. Technically, he's perfect. I can hear Chopin and Rachmaninoff in his original compositions with just a hint of Turkish flair. He'll take his melodies and let them soar, I imagine many times improvising as he goes. He's famous for composing songs and oratorios from famous poems. My favorite is called Yaşamaya Dair (On Living) from an oratorio based on the poems of Nazim Hikmet.

Translation starting at minute 3:30. You can see Say on piano. Goosebumps!  

This earth will grow cold, a star among stars and one of the smallest, a gilded mote on blue velvet-- I mean this, our great earth. This earth will grow cold one day, not like a block of ice or a dead cloud even but like an empty walnut it will roll along in pitch-black space . . . You must grieve for this right now --you have to feel this sorrow now-- for the world must be loved this much if you're going to say "I lived". . .

The concert we saw was at the Nazim Hikmet Cultural Center here in Ankara, the city in which Say was born and raised.  The performance started with some original piano (piyano) - cello (viyolonsel) compositions titled after cities in Turkey and evoking scenes and histories from each. The second half was songs from his Ilk Şarkılar CD featuring Serenad Bağcan on vocals. The lyrics of each song are from Turkish poems - some famous, some not, but most having to do with the love of Turkey, freedom, revolutionary ideals and artistic expression.

Many of the poets Say uses were considered enemies of Turkey. For example Hikmet was in exile for many years due to his beliefs.  Metin Altiok was a lesser known poet who was killed in a fire in 1993 -  known as the Sivas Massacre - where a group of fundamentalists set fire to a hotel hosting a large group of intellectuals, artists, writers, and musicians. This battle between the religious and the secular is what fanned the flames (so to speak) of last year's protests.  Fazıl Say himself is found contentious by many conservative groups and even the government here in Turkey, much like the poets he puts to music. He is under constant threat of being thrown in prison - with his greatest crime being a retweet of an anti-Islam statement and for coming out as an atheist.

I would venture to say that Say has put to music the struggle that has defined much of Turkey's last 50 years. I don't have to understand the words to hear his love for this country in his music and to root in my heart that his dreams for Turkey come true. The man is a true genius, whether or not you agree with him politically, and I feel honored to have seen him in person.

(Ilk Şarkılar is available on iTunes!)