The Streets of Philadelphia

A couple of weeks ago I had the golden opportunity to visit a city I never knew I wanted to see: Philadelphia. To be honest, it hadn't really occurred to me what a cool town it would be. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the part of town where I was, Center City, was a small town snuggled into the middle of a fairly big city. I was there for the NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English) convention, the annual pilgrimage made by roughly a thousand English teachers each year for nearly 100 years now. My Singaporean colleague Jamilah joined me on her first trip to the U.S., and we spent three days filling our minds with information and our bellies with American food while spending more money than could possibly have been necessary. I introduced her to the phenomenon that is Target, allowed her to drag me through clothing and shoe stores that actually had sizes that fit us (difficult and expensive to find in Istanbul), and meandered through the Reading Terminal Market alongside her, taking in all the sights and smells we could in such a short time. Then she went on to New York on her own, and I remained in Philadelphia for a couple of extra days to see the historic district, Italian Market, and Philadelphia Museum of Art with an old friend who flew in from Minnesota for the occasion. Next I took a train to Baltimore, rediscovering my fondness for East Coast train stations, and spent a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday with some old friends of my family before heading back to Istanbul to recover from my vacation. I concluded yet again that when I do return to the U.S., it will probably be to live on the East Coast somewhere...possibly Philly?

A Few Changes

It has now been over a year since I arrived in Istanbul and began publishing this blog, so I decided to make a few changes. The layout is a little more reader-friendly (I hope), and now you don't need to subscribe to anything in order to comment on one of my posts (yes, it really took me a year to figure out how to do that).

Nothing much new here, as I am busy getting ready to go to Philadelphia in a couple of weeks for the NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English) convention followed by Thanksgiving with some old family friends, the Newmans, in Maryland. Here are a couple of random pictures to tide you over...Ciragan Caddesi, Galata Tower, and a mural in the Sishane Metro station.

Taksim Square on Swine Flu Friday

Last week, the mayor of Istanbul declared that all schools would be closed on Friday so they could be disinfected to prevent the spread of H1N1. Never mind the fact that there have been fewer than 30 confirmed cases of the virus in Turkey, or the fact that the cleaning that was actually done would never truly kill a virus...it was a day off! In addition, Thursday was the 86th anniversary of the founding of the Turkish Republic, which means we managed to get a 4-day weekend out of the deal! Yay swine flu! The mayor had suggested that everyone stay home and try to avoid contact with others who might have the virus. Yeah, right. Give a million+ teenagers the day off and then expect them to stay home. Good luck with that. So what did I do? I headed for Taksim Square, of course, arguably the most people-packed area in Turkey outside of the Grand Bazaar. For those of you who have never been, Taksim is the heart of modern-day Istanbul, with hotels, restaurants, night clubs, and shops old and new lining the famed Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue), a mostly pedestrian street that runs from Taksim to Tunel, the second-oldest subway in the world after London's Underground. Taksim is the place most often used for protests and demonstrations of all kinds, and Friday was no exception-there was a Marxist group protesting...I'm not sure what because I can't read enough Turkish to understand their signs. But they had a lot of pictures of Che Guevara, and a friend informed me that they were Marxists. This was one of the more peaceful protests I've seen; if you want to read about the other kind you can do so by looking up the World Bank protests of a few weeks ago. A friend of mine managed to accidentally happen upon that scene, not having read the bottom of the email we received about it from the Ministry of Education to find out the location of the protests. Oops. Friday was rainy, cold, and windy, but my friend Jen and I still managed to have a good time and find some great sales, in addition to the last-minute items for our Halloween costumes. My costume? Swine Flu, of course!

The Dome

Say what you will about the Metrodome, for some of us, it's the only major league baseball stadium we've ever had. I was only four years old when it was opened, so all of my Twins, Vikings, and Gophers memories have taken place there, and they have been some of the happiest moments of my life. From screaming my head off at Vikings games and singing the rouser in the student section at Gopher games to holding my dad's hand while meandering through the crowds at my first Twins game, I will always think of it as a special place where I learned a love of live sports that I will carry with me all my life. Among all my memories at the Dome, however, one will always stand out as the most phenomenal sports experience I have ever had: October 1, 2006. I attended the game with my cousin Stella, who had returned to Minnesota after having lived in Oregon for most of our lives. She and I took our seats after getting our Dome Dogs and beer, and allowed ourselves to be carried away by the excitement of the crowd. It was a do-or-die game with one catch-we not only had to win the game, but the Royals had to beat Detroit in their game to enable us to win the division. We played the White Sox that day, and we won, but that wasn't what made the game special. Throughout the game, a guy sitting behind us had been listening to the Royals-Tigers game, keeping us updated on the score. We knew it was anything but a given that the Tigers would lose, and the tension built up throughout the game. After the game was over, and the Twins were ready to clear the field, someone had the brilliant idea of putting the Royals-Tigers game up on the Jumbotron for all of us to watch...so we stayed. So did about 15,000 other people, and the Twins players came out on the field and watched with us. It was like sitting in an enormous living room, all of us fixated on the big screen, waiting to see what would happen. After what seemed like an eternity, the final score was posted: the Royals, whose record that year finished at 62-100, had managed to beat the Tigers 10-8 in Detroit. The Twins players ran around the field high-fiving the fans, we all cheered like we'd just won all over again, and we finally left the stadium full of the knowledge that we had just witnessed something none of us would be likely to ever see again in our lives.

Iftar in Sultanahmet

The bus creeps its way through the maze of traffic just as dusk begins to settle in around the Bosphorus, bringing with it the excitement of three dozen students and teachers, one two year old boy, and a bus driver who has not allowed even water to pass through his lips all day. As we pass the crumbling, ancient Roman walls surrounding Sultanahmet, I can feel the young man beside me grow tense with anticipation. He is new to this ritual and to this city, only earlier this week having parted from his family and made his way from the small town in which he has spent his entire life. As our driver maneuvers the oversized vehicle through streets designed for horses and carts of a bygone era, it becomes increasingly apparent that we may be thwarted in our efforts to make our way through these narrow streets without some help from-but ah! Yes, the men on the street have obligingly lifted a small car and moved it aside to help us make our way around the final turn: we have arrived. I use my "teacher voice" to dole out some last-minute instructions to the students on the bus, then make my way to the street below and inhale the marvelous odors of roasting meat and frying sweets that fill the air all around me. My friends and I begin making our way through the throngs of people and soon break into smaller and smaller groups as we search for the stalls containing our favorite foods and take in the sights and sounds of the carnivalesque atmosphere. Women fully clad in traditional hijabs flock together like crows, while tourists in shorts and t-shirts jostle their way through the crowd, unaware of the disapproving looks cast by some of the more conservative members of the multitudes. Small children clutching their sticky-sweet tufts of cotton candy reluctantly allow their mothers to pull them along as they try to fill their mouths with as much of the pink sugar as they possibly can. I dodge their small bodies as my friends make their way ahead in search of roasted meats and fried doughy balls of syrupy sweetness; we snap a few "tourist photos" along the way of the more ostentatious of the local foodsellers and their wares. Eventually I part from the group after my belly is filled with spiced meats and Turkish sweets, and make my way back to the shops selling jewelry, porcelain bowls, and trinkets for the tourists that I will use for Christmas presents for my friends and family back home. After securing arkadas (friend) prices for my treasures with a few Turkish phrases and Minnesotan charm, I wander back to the entrance to the Hippodrome and take it all in one more time before returning to my friends...This is iftar, the breaking of the fast, in Sultanahmet.

Topkapi Palace

One of the first things I promised my parents I would do when I got to Istanbul was go to the famed Topkapi Palace and see the Topkapi Dagger. For those of you who haven't seen the movie "Topkapi," it is an extremely campy 1960s movie set in Istanbul, in which the main characters set out to break into Topkapi Palace and steal a jewel-hilted dagger worth millions. Well, it took me a year, but I finally made it to Topkapi. A word to the wise, by the way: when taking a tram to go to Topkapi Palace, get off at the Blue Mosque/Aya Sofia stop. Topkapi is also the name of one of the neighborhoods in the outer suburbs of Istanbul!

The day was a warm, sunny, picture-perfect summer day in Istanbul. I set out with my American colleagues Melissa and Sally, determined not to let my hangover ruin the day. Melissa speaks nearly fluent Turkish, having lived in Istanbul for many years with her Turkish husband and their three children; she is an invaluable resource on our outings around the city. We arrived in Sultanahmet around 10:00 in the morning and made our way towards the gates of the Palace, stopping along the way for a quick simit (Turkish version of a bagel) and some water.

When we entered through the palace gates, it was as though we had stepped into a whole other world. Wide open expanses of lush grass, long, tree covered walkways, and ancient walls surrounded us. This was in such stark contrast to the crowded streets and noisy traffic outside the walls, I immediately took a deep breath and relaxed. After walking though the outer courtyard, we made our way into the palace itself. A series of buildings surrounding yet another courtyard, Topkapi was designed to house the sultan's harem, a meeting hall for Privy Council, stables, the treasury, kitchens, a library, mosques to be used by staff members (includng the "White Eunuchs"), a school for pages, an audience hall, residence for the sultan's chief physician, several pavilions, gardens, and balconies, the circumcision house of the princes, and the living quarters of the sultans themselves. The various buildings now house displays of the many treasures acquired by the various sultans, the sacred relics of the Prophet Muhammed, and the many tapestries and articles of clothing of the sultans and their families. Unfortunately, cameras were forbidden in nearly every room of the treasury, including the one containing an 86 carat diamond that had apparently been found by a spoonmaker in the garbage; he traded it for three silver spoons! It was eventually brought to a jeweler, at which point the sultan ordered that it be brought to his treasury. It was then made into a ring (can you imagine?), but eventually was put on display after it was determined that it was simply too large for any form of jewelry.

At the end of our visit, after shopping in the state-run gift store, we happened upon one of the booksellers (who was definitely NOT fasting for Ramazan) and a street cat who was willing to stand up for his scraps.

(Dagger photo courtesy of insecula.com)

Summer

I'm sorry it's been so long since I have written a new entry here, but it has been a busy summer! First I went to Virginia for a week in July to spend time with my best friend Amy and my Goddaughter Chloe. Amy and I got new tattoos, the three of us joined Amy's aunt and uncle in Williamsburg for the Fourth of July, and I managed to squeeze in a day at the beach alone with Chloe, as well. Next it was off to Minnesota, with Amy in tow; we threw a party at my parents' house while they were at a family reunion in Tahoe. Nice welcome home-they left the morning after I arrived. I managed to catch up with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time, though, so it all worked out well. After resettling at my parents' house (and trying to start going through all of the stuff I had left there that should have gone to Goodwill), the folks and I set out for Michigan for my brother's second wedding reception. My dad was sick the whole time, so I ended up doing most of the driving. We went to Mackinac Island on the way, only realizing afterwards that we had been on Lake Huron at the time (I think we could all use a geography refresher!), and visited the aptly named Grand Hotel. Then it was on to Traverse City, Damon's wife Renee's home town. The reception was a luncheon at an Italian restaurant followed by an afternoon at the bride's parents' house. We got to meet a lot of Renee's family members, and had a nice afternoon relaxing in the sun. After Michigan we had planned to go to the Boundary Waters, but my dad was still recovering from his cold so we just stayed at the cabin for a few days and relaxed. When we got home, my family threw a welcome home (sort of) party for me, so I got the chance to see several of my cousins, aunts and uncles. My grandmother is still recovering from her accident last winter, so she was unable to attend, but I did manage to get over to visit her several times while I was home. The following week I managed to spend time with my cousin Stella and her baby boy Lev at the Minnesota Zoo, catch up with former colleagues, and have dinner with three of my Page cousins. That Friday was the Irish Fair in Saint Paul, with the Dropkick Murphys headlining. It was a great time, even though it rained on us. The next day I joined my parents and some friends of theirs at the cabin for some more sun and fishing, and got up with the sunrise on Monday morning to get a little more fishing in before heading back to the city. As I said, it's been a busy summer, and I will write about my visits to Topkapi Palace and the Fatih Bazaar next time...but now I need to finish getting ready for school!

Sultanahmet and Eminonu

There are only a few places in Istanbul that I actually knew anything about when I came here, and so far I have seen all but one of them: Topkapi Palace. Today I set out with three friends from Robert College and we went to go see it...only to discover it's closed on Tuesdays. Why Tuesdays? That's anyone's guess. Most of the major attractions here seem to pick a random day of the week on which they are not open. I knew this before, but didn't think Tuesdays were one of the days when they would close places. Oh, well. We decided to cross another of the major monuments off my "to do" list: The Blue Mosque. After snapping a few photos and wandering around the whole building looking for the entrance they wanted us to use, my friend Melissa and I talked the guy into giving us clean head scarves and removed our shoes as we entered the quiet semidarkness of the mosque. Once inside we discovered that we were nearly the only ones actually using the borrowed headscarves to cover our hair; most of the tourists who were given them ended up needing them to cover their bare shoulders or legs, or simply disregarded them altogether. The mosque itself is beautiful, with layers of domed ceilings, Arabic script, and stained-glass windows. After the mosque we followed our friend Phil (the men on the street kept jokingly congratulating him on having a mini-harem of three wives) to a beautiful cafe facing the water for a relaxing lunch, and then made our way into the famous Egyptian Spice Bazaar, which holds dozens of shops and hundreds of bins filled to overflowing with every kind of spice you can imagine. It smells heavenly there, a mix of curry and pepper and cinnamon that makes you instantly understand why so many explorers have spent so much of history trying to get to these flavorful essences. The Spice Bazaar also has numerous small shops in it that sell everything from Turkish pottery to Anatolian tablecloths to evil eyes to flip flops. The shopkeepers are invariably willing to bargain with you at every turn, although they will usually wind up accusing you of being either Turkish or Jewish if you play hardball too often.

Bosphorus Boat Trip

In Minnesota at the end of the school year many schools organize trips on paddleboats on the Mississippi River. In recent years, it became my job to prevent my students from getting into mischief on those paddleboat rides, namely, to prevent their version of dancing from producing the next generation. In Istanbul, there is another kind of boat trip, one thankfully far more tame: the end-of-the-year Lise Prep Boat Trip. The worst mischief I witnessed on this trip was one student making an offensive gesture with her finger (supposedly in response to a boy on shore's single-finger greeting), and she was quite embarrassed when she discovered me standing behind her. I spent the majority of this boat trip along the shores of the Bosphorus pointing at important-looking buildings and asking my students Recep and Cosan what they were, then snapping a half-dozen photographs before we moved on to the next important-looking building. They didn't mind, in fact, Recep volunteered the information at every opportunity and looked relieved to have an excuse to avoid dancing with his classmates. The music was Turkish pop music; if you're interested in hearing it you should begin by listening to MFO to hear what Turkish pop music used to sound like, then move on to more contemporary artists like Tarkan. Needless to say there is quite the Turkish flavor to it, and dance moves that mimic those of belly dancers at times.

Between the dancing and important buildings I finally completed one of the goals I've had since my first trip on the Bosphorus: taking a hundred or so pictures of the yalis (yahl-uhs). A yali (which should technically have a "short i" but I'm using my American computer) is a seaside home, ranging from what I would term a "normal-sized" home to a mansion in size. In Ottoman times, these homes were mostly owned by pashas, noblemen whose social rank afforded them certain benefits. Today, these are mostly million dollar+ homes owned by the wealthiest families in Istanbul, most of whom also own a speed boat or two for getting across the Bosphorus without having to deal with traffic. At the beginning of the year, one of the Robert College trustees had us over to her yali for dinner; I finally managed to get a picture of it while on the boat trip yesterday. Here it is, with the family speed boat parked out front:

Birthday in Istanbul

First of all, I'm sorry it's been awhile since I last posted. It's finals time at Robert College, and I have been extraordinarily busy preparing grades and grading finals, listening to pleas for extra points, and finishing all of the end of the year things we teachers all endure. That being said, today is my birthday, so I thought it would be fitting for me to post a few words about what it is like to celebrate my first birthday away from home. My birthday celebration began with my students, who had secretly prepared a little party for me at the end of the day yesterday. They had bought a gourmet cake (a tradition among these kids) for me, gifts (a purple necklace, a journal, and pictures of them-one seen here), and the Turkish version of "Happy Birthday" sung in English (same tune as the American version, with slightly different lyrics). They bought me birthday card but none of them signed it, in a gesture that shows how they "almost" understand American traditions (birthday cards are not very big here). Very sweet kids. After my birthday celebration, we went to the usual Friday flag ceremony, only to discover that it was time for the kids to learn the Robert College school song, which also had a familiar tune: it's sung to the tune of "O Tannenbaum!" After almost ten months of the Turkish National Anthem, which is pretty severe, this was quite the change. I suppressed my laughter and sang along.

Last night it was time for the adult celebration, a joint birthday party with my friend and fellow English teacher Jake, whose birthday was yesterday. We went to a bar/ restaurant/ brewhouse called Taps; one of the few places I've found where they serve fresh microbrew and mostly American food. Their view is amazing, their front window panels were wide open, and it was a beautiful summer night. Most of our department showed up, as did several other campus residents with whom I have become well acquainted this year, and a good time was had by all. My fellow Minnesotan Ann Marie Mershon also joined us for the celebration; she is the one who had been my source of information about Istanbul in general and Robert College in particular last year after I found out I was coming here, and it was great to see her again. At nine o'clock the waiters began to get nervous about the size of the tab being generated by our group and asked us to cash out and start again; we decided it was time to go someplace where the beer was a little cheaper...the lojman of one of the other English teachers, Phil. His apartment also has an amazing view, and it turns out that he makes fantastic soup (which was consumed in abundance by us in the middle of the night). So we walked from Bebek to Robert College (about a mile or so) along the Bosphorus, which was filled with fishermen and women, families, old folks, and a few odd characters, one of whom had a motorcycle covered with odds and ends: empty film canisters, buttons, bottle caps, and other miscellaneous small items. He posed for pictures as he ate his dinner beside his bike, and told us he was actually a photographer (and a very good one, if his business card is any indication). Just one more reason I love wandering in Arnavutkoy in the middle of the night along the Bosphorus.

Back at Phil's place, we continued our carousing well into the night, had a celebratory toast at midnight in honor of my birthday, watched boats with advertisements go by and watched the moon rise, and eventually parted ways after what was undeniably one of the most fun birthdays I've had in a long, long time!