I love those days where you have nothing special planned, but things spontaneously happen to craft your schedule into an enjoyable one. I don't mean that some massive party erupts, or there is some huge groundbreaking discovery on any given subject. No, it's the occurrence of little things that can make a day special.
Yesterday was one of those days. I had planned to spend it in one of the several Starbucks near my house, doing a myriad of things that needed to be done. However, I was joined after about an hour by my friend, Robin. After some pleasant chat, we decided to head out - out to visit the famous Istanbul Modern, museum of modern art. I have wanted to see it for some time, as the massive collection of art was one of the reasons Istanbul was named European Capital of Culture for 2010.
The sun shone brightly, and a mild breeze swept through the city; the weather was impeccable. We walked down the hill towards Tophane and the Bosphorus. It was a spectacular walk, the mosques having a grandoise effect on the area. Here is also home to a huge nargile park, a collection of places were people congregate to smoke narghile.
The museum was fantastic. There really is a lot to see there. Plus, it was free on Thursday!
After the museum, we took a walk through Cihanger on our way to Taksim. Cihanger is the foil of my neighborhood, Tarlebashi. With it's manicured walkways, quaint cafes, and upscale crowd, this part of the city was very strongly european. I actually caught a few dog walkers here as well - something rare in this city of strays.
After this, I headed home to cook a very late lunch/ dinner. I needed a few ingredients, so I stopped by the corner store right next to my house. I was welcomed warmly by the shop keeper, a poor Kurdish man with a large amount of children (I highly suspect multiple wives!). I'm a regular fixure there, always needing something small. Today, as I gathered the things I needed, an old woman I have seen occasionally came it. She was covered, clearly a devout Muslim. She beamed at me, exclaiming, "Merhaba, canım!"(Hello, my dear!), and gave me a huge hug. I was rather surprised, but also touched. What nice people I have enountered here!
After chatting for a bit with my slowly improving Turkish, I made a rather fantastic meal, if I do say so myself. Feeling inspired, I continued with my culinary activities: making an apple struedal cake - to great avail. Delicious!
I finished my book on the cultural re-education of China after satisfying my appetite, letting go a few tears in the process. Finishing books, especially when the story is so fantastic, is both exhilarating and heart-breaking at the same time. I love to be lost in a story.
I then began to do some research on an aspect of Turkish culture brought to my attention by some male students. I am going to write an essay about it, to be posted shortly. The subject is fascinating to me, though it fills me with anger. I read for a couple hours, copying and pasting quotes, checking data, getting sidetracked into other topics. I enjoyed this immensely - the wheels in my head were really churning. A great feeling.
Robin came over later, for some cake and wine, and we discussed a bevvy of different things. We called it an early night, exhausted from our work week. Though I work only 29 hours, with preparation, travel time, and the awful split shifts (10 - 2pm, 7-10pm : not enough time for me to go home!) I working over 60 hours. It's a long week, that's for sure.
Anyhow, what I intended to be an easy going, relaxing day, actually filled itself up with nice little things. I fell asleep happy, and feeling good about life. The little things can really make all the difference in one's life.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Oh, The Little Things That Make This City Great!
Istanbul is such a lovely city, especially at this time of year. I decided to put together a short ode to the place, where I have spent the last two and a half months.
To the flowers, which are popping up everywhere: from the trees, from the grass, from the roadside vendors taking advantage of the Turkish passion for love.
To the mosques, so picturesque, from which the booming call to prayer echoes throughout the city five times a day.
To the ever-present Simit, a tasty and thrifty supplement to any meal.
To rooftop terraces, offering spectacular views and atmospheres: whom anticipate impatiently the liberation of the warm summer months.
To the Dolmus, what sketchy transportation! An Efficient and roller-coaster-esque ride is promised to numererous locations around this sprawling metropolis.
To the cats, sweet abandoned animals, that roam the streets in vast numbers.
To the chaos, that defines the city so well, adding a certain spice that makes life here so unpredictable and exciting.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Topkapi Palace - Too Cool!
On my "weekend" this week (Thursday and Friday, as we have weekend classes here), I took advantage of the beautiful weather to visit the beautiful, historical Topkapi Palace in Sultanahment. Apparently, there was a very famous film made about the place in the 1950s chronicling the gift of a certain dagger to a Shah of Iran, which was, in transit, sent back to Istanbul after the sudden death of the Shah. The dagger was spectacular, studded with emeralds, rubies, pearls, and turquiose; note to self- must see this film!
The entrance grounds were spectacular in the afternoon sunlight.
Once inside the main courtyard, all was picturesque.
Everything was written in Arabic, planting a new seed of curiousity inside of me. Too many seeds these days - I am currently studying Turkish, Greek, Japanese, and Middle Eastern History.
The details on the buildings were astounding. Inside, there were numerous treasures, of which i was not allowed to take photos. Jewelry, thrones, weapons (some from Christ's time!), and a few really amazing religious artifacts. They had Moses' Rod on display, the one used to part the Red Sea in his famous trek to Egypt. They had Joseph's, son of Jacob and of the "Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" fame, royal turban, from his days as an Egyptian leader. A bowl Abraham used to eat out of, the footprint made by Muhammed in stone as he ascended to heaven, and a myriad of other things were housed here. I'm not sure how much of it I believe to be authentic; in any case, it was mighty interesting.
Topkapi Palace borders the Bosphorus, providing it's previous inhabitants and current visitors with breath-taking views.
Beautiful place. It made me excited to be living in such a fascinating location!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Narghile Experience
The Turkish folk love to sit, chat, and mingle with friends. Hence, there are an abundance of cafes in this city- more coffee than a coffee love like me could ever dream of. In addition to bars, where the Turks can drink you under the table, there's one other place where they gather in masses - Narghile cafes.
Narghile [nahr- geel- ah] is the Middle-Eastern word for 'hookah', a water pipe used to smoke a tobacco infused fruit. There are many flavors, and it's like inhaling sweet air. Idid my research, wondering why it's called hookah in English if the majority of the water-pipe using population calls it Narghile. Apparently, in India, where the British expatriate population first sampled the waterpipe, it's called huqqa, and thus history was made.
In a pictuesque cafe, Robin, Kyle, and I whiled away the afternoon.
Tea is a given compliment to the Nargile experience. Many different kinds of tea are available, the best being Ataçay (Ata-chai), an appley version.
Friendly cats feel entitled to a comfy seat too. Though I was calling to the animal, it jumped onto Kyle's lap, and promptly ignored me.
... that cat LOVED him.
In the summer, these 'Narghile Gardens' sprout all over the humid outdoors. A wonderful experience - one that made me feel that I was truely in Turkey!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Football Frenzy
Every country has a certain sport or national pastime that the male population whole-heartedly obsess over. In China, it's basketball: in Japan, baseball. In America, it's American football. In Turkey, as well as rest of the world, it's soccer-football, and it inspires a fantastic amount of both comraderie and rivalry in this culture.
In Turkey, there are three teams to which one vows allegiance. Fenerbahçe, the most well funded sports club, is generally the most popular. It was my team choice after being forced to choose sides by endlessly pestering students. Its rivals are Galatasaray and Beşiktaş, both areas of Istanbul in addition to sports team names. These two seem to be borderline friendly, though team alliance is strictly exclusive, bound together in their battle against the daunting Fenerbahçe enterprise. These three names are also the names of basketball teams, and, I believe, other sports teams: a fact which I find rather confusing and uncreative.
At any rate, the Turks are passionate and enthusiastic, in the strongest sense of the words, about their football. This creates some rather hysterical and surprising experiences for the unsuspecting, laid back, Chicago-Cub-loving foreigner.
In one such instance, I was walking from the Metro Bus (a special bus that runs down its own lane on the highway) to the underground Metro in Şişli, a busy area of Istanbul. When I reached the entrace stairs to the Metro, I was unsuspectingly swallowed by a crowd of navy uniforms guarding the stairway. Wary policemen of various official ranks and status, wielding their AK47s, swept over my bags with their eyes - stylish yellow leather B.Makowsky, sporty grey Puma duffel, and a lime green cake carrier, complete with the remnants of a beautiful two layer chocolate cake - and decided I could pass.
Living in what we lovingly call "The Middle East Lite", I have never felt in danger in any way. However, there is that hovering knowledge that, only a border away, the conflicts that dominate our news and threaten our safety carry on in real life. So, amid the intense throng of security and confusion, you can imagine the thoughts going through my hyper-imaginative mind. Has there been a legitimate bomb threat? A terrorist attack? A high-profile suspect aprehended, or a tip of sesitive materials transfer?
As the ideas hatched in my head, I aknowledged to myself that I watched too much 24 with too much attention; however, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. What was the reason for this? What is going on? Will I make it out of this metro alive?
Just as my fears got the best of me, and I began to turn back out of the Metro station to seek out some alternate means of transport, the sound of singing drifted up the escalator.
It was then I noticed what I had failed, in all my panic, to see before: the odd number of men wearing marroon and gold striped scarves and goofy grins. Assuming they weren't all satisfied Griffindor students of Howarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, there must have been another explanation for the matching garb and festive air. As I descended via escalator into the bowels of the city, afraid of what I would find, I felt the tension rising with the volume of the chant.
All the sudden, a rush of men stampeded down the stairs between the ascending and descending escalators. They were singing at the top of their lungs, their deafening voices ringing through the underground tunnels as they bound down the steps like excited children. On the platform, I nimbly picked my way through throngs of jumping, hooting, back-slapping men: and extremely frightening experience, to be honest. I could have been crushed in their rowdy mob with one misstep.
The train shook and echoes with their song and raccous laughter until I exited. I made a mad dash to beat them to the stairs, and rushed into Taksim Square just ahead of the mob. It was one of the more interesting Metro rides I have taken: an experience that makes me think that, perhaps, there is nothing more frightening in Turkey than an happy bunch of footballers.
In Turkey, there are three teams to which one vows allegiance. Fenerbahçe, the most well funded sports club, is generally the most popular. It was my team choice after being forced to choose sides by endlessly pestering students. Its rivals are Galatasaray and Beşiktaş, both areas of Istanbul in addition to sports team names. These two seem to be borderline friendly, though team alliance is strictly exclusive, bound together in their battle against the daunting Fenerbahçe enterprise. These three names are also the names of basketball teams, and, I believe, other sports teams: a fact which I find rather confusing and uncreative.
At any rate, the Turks are passionate and enthusiastic, in the strongest sense of the words, about their football. This creates some rather hysterical and surprising experiences for the unsuspecting, laid back, Chicago-Cub-loving foreigner.
In one such instance, I was walking from the Metro Bus (a special bus that runs down its own lane on the highway) to the underground Metro in Şişli, a busy area of Istanbul. When I reached the entrace stairs to the Metro, I was unsuspectingly swallowed by a crowd of navy uniforms guarding the stairway. Wary policemen of various official ranks and status, wielding their AK47s, swept over my bags with their eyes - stylish yellow leather B.Makowsky, sporty grey Puma duffel, and a lime green cake carrier, complete with the remnants of a beautiful two layer chocolate cake - and decided I could pass.
Living in what we lovingly call "The Middle East Lite", I have never felt in danger in any way. However, there is that hovering knowledge that, only a border away, the conflicts that dominate our news and threaten our safety carry on in real life. So, amid the intense throng of security and confusion, you can imagine the thoughts going through my hyper-imaginative mind. Has there been a legitimate bomb threat? A terrorist attack? A high-profile suspect aprehended, or a tip of sesitive materials transfer?
As the ideas hatched in my head, I aknowledged to myself that I watched too much 24 with too much attention; however, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. What was the reason for this? What is going on? Will I make it out of this metro alive?
Just as my fears got the best of me, and I began to turn back out of the Metro station to seek out some alternate means of transport, the sound of singing drifted up the escalator.
It was then I noticed what I had failed, in all my panic, to see before: the odd number of men wearing marroon and gold striped scarves and goofy grins. Assuming they weren't all satisfied Griffindor students of Howarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, there must have been another explanation for the matching garb and festive air. As I descended via escalator into the bowels of the city, afraid of what I would find, I felt the tension rising with the volume of the chant.
All the sudden, a rush of men stampeded down the stairs between the ascending and descending escalators. They were singing at the top of their lungs, their deafening voices ringing through the underground tunnels as they bound down the steps like excited children. On the platform, I nimbly picked my way through throngs of jumping, hooting, back-slapping men: and extremely frightening experience, to be honest. I could have been crushed in their rowdy mob with one misstep.
The train shook and echoes with their song and raccous laughter until I exited. I made a mad dash to beat them to the stairs, and rushed into Taksim Square just ahead of the mob. It was one of the more interesting Metro rides I have taken: an experience that makes me think that, perhaps, there is nothing more frightening in Turkey than an happy bunch of footballers.
Friday, March 5, 2010
I Don't Think I've Ever Been This Frustrated!
Well, I hate to dissapoint, but I have absolutely nothing new to post. Except, I guess, the fact that my frustration with work has reached it's breaking point .
First, let me say that I love the people that I work with - the Turkish Staff, my fellow teachers, and my students. There are no problems there - except for the Head Teacher. He is a likeable fellow, but his tact and managerial skills are so fantastically slack that I wonder how he could have possibly landed this position. Due to the fact that it pays little more than a teacher's salary, with a heavy load of added responsibilities, most people won't accept the position; I assume they give it to whomever will take it.
At any rate, my contract states that I am guaranteed 2 days off a week. However, in case of emergency, English Time can demand that I work on my days off for 6 consecutive weeks in a 3 month period. After this period of time, it is the teacher's decision whether or not to work on thier days off.
This little 6-Week Clause has been my Istanbul experience thus far. I started working the day after I arrived, thrown into the chaos that was my branch. I was given classes, spread over all days of the week, allowing me no days off. Two snow days allowed relief, and I arranged for another teacher to cover another two days of my classes for another break. Over an 8 week period, I've had 4 total days off - none of which were provided by the school. I created a chart to illustrate this most clearly. The key to the chart follows.
Week Date Mon Tu Wed Th Fri Sat Sun
1 1/11-17 ARRIVE X X O1 O1
2 1/18-24 X X X X X X O2
3 1/25-31 O2 X X X X X X
4 2/1-2/7 X X X X X X X
5 2/8-2/14 O3 O3 X X X X X
6 2/15-2/21 X X X X X X X
7 2/22-2/28 X X X X X X X
8 3/1-3/7 X X X X X X X
9 3/8-3/14 X X ? ? ? ? ? ? X X
----
Now, I can take one for the team in case of an emergency. I have no problem with that. However, the other teachers at my branch are not subject to this rigorous schedule. It's only me - some teachers are soliciting more hours because their workload just isn't enough. This is just a case of poor organization and extreme negligence. Why am I being forced to work these 4 week stretches without a break, while other teachers worry their paychecks won't be sufficient at the end of the month?
Not that my paycheck is anything substantial. The wages are basically 11 dollars an hour - and we have to pay for transportation, utilities, and everything else (except a meager 300TL rent allowance) with that.
Maybe this is the voice of a crazy woman, but I just don't think it's fair. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I've frankly started to feel a bit negatively towards this city because of my mistreatment. I've tried talking to my head teacher about this, but am met with a rather flippant and nonchalant attitude. He continues to forget about my predicament as well, showing how much my continuing reminders affect him. I've emailed the head of English Time, to kindly ask if there was any way she could ensure I get two days off next cycle. I haven't heard a reply; I know show is very busy.
I have never been this truly frustrated before. I feel taken advantage of - most especially because of the attitude of my boss- and taken for granted. I care about my students, I do a good job, I am always on time, dress very professionally, AND I bake for people in the office. I BAKE, gosh darn it! Is this the way I should get repaid?!
Please comment - I need some kinds words to make me feel better about this.
First, let me say that I love the people that I work with - the Turkish Staff, my fellow teachers, and my students. There are no problems there - except for the Head Teacher. He is a likeable fellow, but his tact and managerial skills are so fantastically slack that I wonder how he could have possibly landed this position. Due to the fact that it pays little more than a teacher's salary, with a heavy load of added responsibilities, most people won't accept the position; I assume they give it to whomever will take it.
At any rate, my contract states that I am guaranteed 2 days off a week. However, in case of emergency, English Time can demand that I work on my days off for 6 consecutive weeks in a 3 month period. After this period of time, it is the teacher's decision whether or not to work on thier days off.
This little 6-Week Clause has been my Istanbul experience thus far. I started working the day after I arrived, thrown into the chaos that was my branch. I was given classes, spread over all days of the week, allowing me no days off. Two snow days allowed relief, and I arranged for another teacher to cover another two days of my classes for another break. Over an 8 week period, I've had 4 total days off - none of which were provided by the school. I created a chart to illustrate this most clearly. The key to the chart follows.
Week Date Mon Tu Wed Th Fri Sat Sun
1 1/11-17 ARRIVE X X O1 O1
2 1/18-24 X X X X X X O2
3 1/25-31 O2 X X X X X X
4 2/1-2/7 X X X X X X X
5 2/8-2/14 O3 O3 X X X X X
6 2/15-2/21 X X X X X X X
7 2/22-2/28 X X X X X X X
8 3/1-3/7 X X X X X X X
9 3/8-3/14 X X ? ? ? ? ? ? X X
CHART KEY:
X - Worked day
O1 - Scheduled Days Off
O2 - School Closed Due to Weather Conditions (Snow Days) . On 1/25, The head teacher sent a email notification of the cancellation late in the afternoon, after I had left to come into school. After and hour and a half commute, I arrived to discover class was canceled. I spend another hour and a half going home.
O3 - Teacher Arranged Days Off. After asking around, a fellow colleague agreed to give up his days off that week to cover my classes for two days, thus giving me two days off. English Time had nothing to do with the arrangement of this.
? ? - Unknown Schedule. As of 3/9, all of my classes have ended, save my weekend morning class. We are usually notified a few days beforehand of a new class starting, so I am unsure as to whether I really have these days off, or if I will be given another class starting on these days.
----
Now, I can take one for the team in case of an emergency. I have no problem with that. However, the other teachers at my branch are not subject to this rigorous schedule. It's only me - some teachers are soliciting more hours because their workload just isn't enough. This is just a case of poor organization and extreme negligence. Why am I being forced to work these 4 week stretches without a break, while other teachers worry their paychecks won't be sufficient at the end of the month?
Not that my paycheck is anything substantial. The wages are basically 11 dollars an hour - and we have to pay for transportation, utilities, and everything else (except a meager 300TL rent allowance) with that.
Maybe this is the voice of a crazy woman, but I just don't think it's fair. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I've frankly started to feel a bit negatively towards this city because of my mistreatment. I've tried talking to my head teacher about this, but am met with a rather flippant and nonchalant attitude. He continues to forget about my predicament as well, showing how much my continuing reminders affect him. I've emailed the head of English Time, to kindly ask if there was any way she could ensure I get two days off next cycle. I haven't heard a reply; I know show is very busy.
I have never been this truly frustrated before. I feel taken advantage of - most especially because of the attitude of my boss- and taken for granted. I care about my students, I do a good job, I am always on time, dress very professionally, AND I bake for people in the office. I BAKE, gosh darn it! Is this the way I should get repaid?!
Please comment - I need some kinds words to make me feel better about this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)