Homeward Bound

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays....

Today is my last day in Istanbul,
tomorrow morning at 0900 i fly out of here on a plane homeward bound
I feel a sense of bittersweetness
I really loved my time here and i felt like something really clicked with me here in Turkey
but at the same time it has been a vacation from real life and its time for me to get back to reality
i have to graduate
and get a job or go to grad school
and i have to keep moving forward
one step at a time

It makes it especially sad because all my friends here keep telling me how
i am like family to them and i hate leaving family behind anywhere
but it is also nice to know that i have family all over the world!

anyways the time has come for me to wrap up this blog and say my last piece

First, i encourage everyone to be brave and do something unexpected of you
Second, it is direly important for the future of the world that our generations and the ones that follow us get out of their own cultures and experience something different
Third, it is so important to make a real attempt to be understanding and compassionate to all human beings regardless of ethnicity, nationality, language....etc....because one person can encompass a lot of differences within them...and its important to bridge the gap and make common ground where you cannot find any.
Fourth, Turkey is a historical phenomenon....you can't go anywhere without running into something ancient, meaningful, or sacred. For example there is a church built into a mountain in Turkey and its called St. Nicholas's Cathedral....
for those who dont understand St. Nick...is Santa Claus....bet you didnt' know Santa has a summer home in Turkey did you?
Fifth, drop your biases, and your strictured opinions....be flexible...the only part of you that should be so straight and narrow is your backbone...how will you grow if you dont allow yourself the room...and i mean this mentally.
Sixth, don't assume anything...dont assume you know...dont assume you dont know...dont assume what people are thinking...or feeling...etc....if you want to know something- then ask, and ask someone else, and then research on your own....dont just believe, discover for yourself!
Seventh, and i learned this a long time ago from a childrens cartoon called The Magic School Bus....but i relearned it here in turkey..."Take Chances, Get Messy, Make Mistakes"
you're going to make mistakes....that is inevitable but while you do it you might as well learn something...you might as well try...take a chance....i mean if you are going to fall off a cliff- why not try to fly...

and with those words of wisdom dear reader, i leave you to your own devices...

remember its a really big complicated world...so if you think you know something...look at it from a different angle and i bet you'll see a whole new picture!

Ciao!
Jessi

Best Friend/Worst Enemy

I can't believe how much i learned about my own culture just by being here...

there is a great admiration for Malcom X i've discovered from international students...one of my German friends was so excited when she saw me reading his autobiography that she promptly began to tell me why and how she admired him, not to mention many of my Kurdish friends consider him to be a great leader...and not even that some of my Turkish friend expressed their admiration as well....

I hope it is my own fault and not the failing of the educational system in America that has led me to know very little about Black American leaders and important figures in America.

mostly i rememeber every February we get a lecture or two about the Civil Rights movement and Martin Luther King Jr.

Not that he wasn't a great man....but how much are we missing out on....I've learned about Bendict Arnold who is notorious for betraying the Patriots to the British in the American Revolution

but i've never even heard Jesse Jackson's name, or Angela Davis' name mentioned in my history education in school

Is that because it isn't important that we learn about the blacks who spoke the loudest with messages we dont like to hear or rememeberor attempted to thwart the system at every turn...who didn't preach the message of turn the other cheek? Do they think that if we learn about them...then we may try to imitate them? Really do they think we are that simple?

I've learned more about Black American leaders here in Turkey where they are widely admired and accepted...then i ever did at home...

On another note...I had a goal before i came to Turkey...its a life goal....of befriending someone i dont like.

I've accomplished that goal here, and learned so much from it.

This person brings out the very worst in me, and even a short conversation is devastatingly painful to me...but nevertheless i stick to my guns and i gut it out.

I've spent a fair amount of time learning about this person and trying to understand them better and appreciate their finer points....

but mostly i've learned that when you force yourself to see the good in people you dont like...it makes you so much more humble and understanding and compassionate as well.

I am now so very aware of my actions towards others and i try at all times to be kind and relaxed and easy going because this person has made me realize how easy it is to start a war...

If you dont try to understand someone or see their perspective simply because you dont like them...then yah...fighting them is an easy way out

If i was not this persons friend i could very well be their worst enemy and sometimes i wish i were just so i could actually say the scathing words that come to mind when this certain person utters the stupid ridiculous crap that they seem to deem important.


But i'm in this for the long haul because i can feel how good it is for me...first it allows me to just be myself, because this person doesn't care what i say or what i do in any way. but second it causes me to be more cautious and humble in my daily interactions with others because i want to be the kind of person who doesn't rub everyone the wrong way and cause waves and problems every where i go


...and thirdly it forces me to suppress my initial instincts to attack or quickly defend myself and in doing so...i'm a more peaceful person..

I challenge all of you...who are brave enough to keep reading my blog...Befriend someone you dont like...i mean someone who grates your nerves...someone who's voice is like nails ona chalkboard to you....someone that says the things you cant stand to hear.

Befriend this person...and then...watch yourself grow!

ciao!
jessi

And the Grammy award goes to...

I can't believe its just one week!
i feel like i haven't had enough time to do everything!
i feel like i'm finally adjusted, not a whole lot suprises me anymore
every day is starting to feel normal and not like an adventure
and i guess that is how you know its time to move on...

anyways...i have to give a shoutout to my girls...my roomies...Michelle, Selin, Ecem, Gizem....we deserve our own little ode to our awesomeness.
We have lived in one room, shared one bathroom...6 girls...and guess what
not one fight!

not even a petty little girl cat fight.... that deserves a standing ovation am i right...
this is simply because we have bigger problems to deal with then "who used my shampoo, and "why do you snore so loudly", and "You're such a witch in the mornings"

our problems have to do with a language barrier and a huge fashion difference....
so in the end my turkish roomates have been very kind and lenient with my bad American style sense and i in turn have never givn them crap for wearing Ugg boots (this rule does not apply to any American's i know...you will take heat from me if you are a wearer of Ugg boots)

We stay out of each others way...are kind and polite and respectful of each others things, time, space, and sleeping schedule.
If someone is in the shower and you have class in an hour...then you curse your own oversleeping self and hightail your butt to class...
If someone is doing their homework late at night and needs one light on...then you wear a sleep blindfold or pull your covers over your head...
If someone likes to sleep with the window open so they can get fresh (albeit frigid cold) air...then you wear all of your available pajamas and sweatshirts and bundle up under the covers....

oddly enough you go out of your way to make everyones life easier- that is the primary rule that has made living here in the dorms such an awesome experience....we aren't there to make each others lives miserable

and while i'm at it i should mention that everyone in the dorms, Ahmet, Karsli Yunus, Mardin Yunus, Hakki, Baran,Burak, Mizgin, Tugce, Begum, Serhan, Mustafa, and so many others have been nothing but helpful and kind and sweet, if not for them there would have been times when i would have starved, or been intimidated, but their smiling encouraging faces kept me going each and every day...

okay i'm starting to sound like an acceptance speech at the Grammy's....
what i am really trying to say is that this experience would have been impossible if so many people weren't willing to share not only their food, but their ideas, their culture, their language, their time with me, to help me adjust and to help me understand

i know from firsthand experience that it is not easy to reach out to someone culturally different then you...its time consuming and it forces you to slow down and analyze your own speech, thought, values, and circumstances....but in doing so...they enriched my time here in Turkey...

I truly felt connected to a community, so i knew that i had people to count on and rely on and to help me when i needed it in any way. Its been my privledge and definatly my pleasure to be a part of their world.

ciao
jessi

Reflections...part 2

...We pull up to my dorm and i climb out wearily and the Fatih quickly pulls out my bags and gives me a warm smile before leaving and waving as he drove off...

I was very sorry to see him go because the security guards at the dorm entrance spoke no english and flipped through my entrance papers a few times with skeptical looks and then escorted me to the dorm manager.....

As i walked through the dorm i realized it was still a work in progress...there were construction workers working on pipes and the kitchen was still being set up and the cleaning people were working like bees all over the place....

and it was empty....
by the time i got to my room i noticed htat every single room in every single floor was as empty as the hotel in the Shining....

The emptiness was the last straw on an incredibly stressful situation...i had flown 14 hours on a plane...away from anything i was familiar with....my first trip outside of north America...didn't speak the language and was very unfamiliar with the customs...and i didn't know anyone at all....
at that point i was already feeling alone...
but to arrive to an empty dorm just compounded the loneliness and i sat down and tried to swallow my fears...

Before i knew it i could feel teardrops pressing at my eyes and i gave myself 15 seconds...enought time for about two sniffles and one pitiful whine with about 8 tears total...and i kid you not i pretty much counted.

then i wiped my eyes and told myself aloud, "this is what you came here for...you wanted this, now stop being a baby and go explore."

I trudged up the stairs to the dorm terrace where i found one girl, my first true friend in Turkey: Karin....and within moments i met another friend this time a Turkish one: Hasan.

I was abnormally friendly because i wanted to make friends to explore Istanbul with....and we sat outside in the hot sun and talked and drank water for about an hour

then Karin invited me to go have lunch and then go exploring with her...and from that moment it seriously seemed like Istanbul was a bright shining city just waiting to be explored...and it was....and i did....

i just want everyone who has traveled before or who has yet to travel to know...it didn't start out all happily ever after...its always scary at first to make a big change...and its definatly okay to cry a little or call your parents...although i didn't call mine...mostly because my mother is the best mom every but she has a way of being very unsympathetic to tears...and my dad is the exact opposite....once he asks..."aww baby, whats wrong" the waterworks start and i turn into a sniffling whining 4 year old who's skinned her knee and between sobs tells a horrific story of how the sky is falling. therefore they could only make things worse....

It got better, exponentially, once i forced myself to realize that you have to try....you have to really really try hard...and it will be uncomfy...and akward and downright miserable at times...but you have to try....
i know i'm glad i did!

ciao
jessi

Reflections...

In my last few weeks here, i've spent a lot of time reflecting on my first few weeks here and marveling at how far i've come

and i'm finally ready to tell the true story about my first experiences of Turkey

At first i put on a happy face and decided not to write about it because i wanted to be fair...and when you are scared out of your mind you can never truly be fair to a new experience...you just want out.

In any case, i'm ready to tell it so here i go...

As soon as my plane touches down at Ataturk airport, i get the feeling that Dorothy must have felt when she woke up in munchkin land.... and in my immediate state of shock i started to look around and realize that everyone around me was speaking Turkish except for a pair of elderly American women who were looking anxiously over a guide book and steadily ignoring everyone around them.

I lifted my chin and walked off the plane feigning all the confidence in the world...and i walked right into a hustling crowd of people who were angry and late....
since i was going in their direction i got caught up in a whirlwind/wave of these people and got carried through the visa center and before i knew it i was exiting the terminals.

I stepped through a pair of double doors into a large window filled lobby with crowds of people holding signs for incoming guests/students etc. I didn't see my name, although the school had assigned someone to help me with my frist few weeks and through email he promised to meet me and escort me to the dorms.

I find an empty uncomfortable plastic chair and have a seat trying to ignore the growing panic inside me. As i waited i noticed how alone i was...everyone had a travel partner or someone meeting them and i heard not a single word of english and i knew nothing in Turkish. As i sat i tried to put on a calm, collected, strong facade, because every woman knows that men only harrass/hit on the women that they think are easy targets...they are like lions...they pick the weakest one of the bunch and go for the kill. If you appear confident and self assured they mostly leave you alone. (Of course my dear brother-in-law, Peter is the exception to this rule...i dont think i will ever understand how he was brave enough to get past the mean, steel exterior of my sister Lil...)

Time passed...and i waited....i waited...and i waited...finally 20 minutes passed and I gave up waiting.

One good thing about being in a completely new place is you have the oppurtunity to learn a whole lot about your true self...and you start to accept it...I learned i am not a patient girl

I decided to find a taxi but i got looped into a salesman advertising cheap shuttle rides to your destination. I accept and praying i'm not getting ripped off beyond belief i sit and wait for them to pull up a shuttle and escort me and my bags to it.

I wait 30 minutes this time and then i march up to the shuttle service and start gesturing and yelling....they get the clear message that either they take me where i want to go or i'll raise so much hell they will wish i had never come to Turkey.

They quickly pull up a shuttle, just for me, and a nice gentleman tells the driver where to take me and he teaches me my first Turkish word...tesekkur ederim...(thank you). The driver doesn't speak much english and i'm in no mood to talk as its been over and hour and i am confused, and scared and angry. But as we drive and i see the city of Istanbul to things hit me at once...the weather is beautiful...but the city is generally filthy. Most of the buildings are apartment complexes, and i didnt see a shopping mall or a skyscraper in sight. There was a heavy fog of smog over the city and i could feel exhaust burning my lungs through the open window.

I'm not ashamed to admit....i wanted so badly to just go home.

My drive, Fatih, was chatting pleasently in Turkish from the front seat...explaining his love for Michael Jackson i think...and as we passed parts of the city he would point out the tourist spots and important destinations. I tried to rememeber everything he was saying...but a lump was growing in my throat and my head was beginning to ache.

We pulled into a narrow street with many of the buildings broken down or with windows punched out...and i was relieved to see a police station and armed police on guard....(this relief at seeing police would soon dissapate)

Part 2 still to come....

terrible-awful-no-good-very-bad-day!

Today was a bad day...
and you may think i'm just venting
but believe it or not i hate inviting other people into my own private
anger sessions, especially when it is a bad day..

However for the sake of future study abroad students, i want to make a note of even the bad days
because they will happen
and it's so important that students know when they study abroad it will not always be like vacation...and sometimes there will be times when you really are just angry and frustrated and want to shout out loud...or sometimes you just want to go home

It's important to know that this happens so you know not to give up.

Today i celebrated Christmas early with some of the amazing Erasmus people in my dorm...i feel awful for not spending more time with them because they are so neat and each has such amazing qualities and all are so friendly and kind!

In any case, i had to duck out of the party early because i promised my friend i would go to her cousin's birthday party...

mistake? yes.

I end up sitting in a room where the music is much too loud and not too good and no one speaks a word to me, even when i try my best to use my awful turkish. I end up sitting for two hours and getting the bad end of Turkish hospitality...which is where they talk about you, point at you, and look at you but pretend like you are a statue and can neither hear or see them doing this.

It was humiliating....

but it serves to help me point out yet another fact...

There are times, especially if you go to the Eastern countries....from Middle East to China....where as a Westerner...usually very blonde girls and very dark skinned girls....where people will look at you.

When i say look, i mean stare...and i mean they might ask if they can take a picture with you...and you might for a moment feel like a celebrity because i am not exaggerating when i say you can feel every pair of eyes staring you down when you walk down a crowded road.

That being said...it isn't the intimidating or racisit staring that makes you feel like an unwelcome cockroach....it is curiosity...and honestly on a good day it made me feel like a goddess walking on earth and gracing the good people with my presence, but
on a bad day it felt like i was an unwelcome alien and i wanted to hide in my room and curse the world.

This is why i stress the importance of recognizing that you will have bad days when you study abroad...know that it is not a reason to give up (though it may be a reason to stay inside with a lot of chocolate and your favorite movies).

and i am saying all of this because i have experienced the kind of staring where a person is clearly thinking that you are not worth the gum on the bottom of their shoe and the kind of stares i have received here in Turkey are not like that at all.

I sincerely believe that i could be the first person of African descent some of them have seen in their lives...but i'm happy to give them a good impression, and smile and nod...or if they are brash enough to speak...i inform them that i am an American...and immidiately the curiosity is switched into high gear and the first question is "do you know Barak Obama?"

So my bad day today is almost over...and i will wake up tomorrow and hopefully the clouds will have gone away...

but for now....chocolate!

ciao
jessi

...and in other news

Good afternoon, this is Jessi Jones reporting live from Istanbul, Turkey where breaking news in the political realm is causing an uproar....

The Turkish Parliament outlawed the DTP party yesterday...(party names are not important if you are not fully invested in Turkish politics so i will give you a brief overview)

The DTP is the main supporter of Kurds and Kurdish rights in Turkey....

The Kurds in Turkey are already on edge and from time to time they create problems in Turkey.... In the past they have killed soldiers, civilians, and tourists on their path to gain either equality or seperation from Turkey I am still not sure what exactly they want...

However, all the Kurds i have met are smart, thoughtful and in many cases, kind and generous people... so i have come to think of this as a violent version of the Civil rights movement...what the Kurds need is a Ghandi like figurehead...or Martin Luther King, or a Nelson Mandella, or Dalai Lama....

their current imprisoned leader (Ocalan Abdullah) seems to create even more divisivness that leads to more resentment and dislike of the Kurdish party (PKK) by external parties and the international community because it is seen as violent and uncooperative.

So in any case...the abolishment of the DTP caused riots and protests to break out on Istiklal street in Taksim yesterday which dampened my already drenched spirits (it's been raining like niagra falls) because suddenly it was no longer safe to go up to Istiklal where i normally take my dinner and tea.

So instead i stayed inside and had a discussion with my friend about the PKK and why he disliked them...which somehow turned into a discussion of Hamas and the situation in Palestine, Israel and Gaza Strip...and the next thing i know my friend says..."occupied Palestine territories" and all of a sudden my temper flares.

Now everyone should understand that when you get upset...all your reasoning and logic disappears. so at this point i should have simply bid my friend good night and gone to bed

instead i begin to pump him for information on why he doesn't recognize Israel and before i know it, we aren't speaking at all.

This is the problem...the root of almost every conflict.

People get so emotionally invested in one side, that they refuse or cannot see the other side of the arguement. I see this happen every time someone takes a hard line on a touchy subject i forget to actually listen and i automatically hunker down and prepare to return fire.

What if...and i'm just supposing here

what if we all just listened to each other...and i mean the real listening...where you aren't just waiting for an openeing where you can jump in and state your opinion

i mean listening so that when the person finishes talking you have to take a few moments silence just to digest what they have said and you even repeat it back to them to make sure you hear it correctly.

And what if everyone did this....and really tried to step outside of themselves and see the other side...

what then?

I dont care if you are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Taoist, Morman, Athiest, Pagan, or reincarnated as a squirrel democrat, republican, Tory, Whig, Labor, AKP, Communist, socialist, Anarchist, nationalist, Iranian, american, english, canadian, Chinese, Icelandic, black, white, yellow, blue, red, green, orange....

None of us has a road map to a perfect world....no one has a monopoly on the truth or being right...

we may have to do some things that we dont like...and we may have to take a hit to our pride...and we may have to accept that some people just do not believe the same exact thing we believe...doesn't mean they are wrong

We may not all speak the same languages but our ears serve the same purpose...to listen...to comprehend...to understand each other....



and now back to your regularly scheduled program....

Police...! run!

Disclaimer: Turkey is not a police state...it is a functional democracy with some kinks to work out like every other democratic nation in the world

That being disclaimed i have to make the observation that the amount of police forces present here in Turkey has been alarming to me...at first it made me happy to see them in my early days here because as an American when i see police i think security

However as i have gotten more familiar with Istanbul in particular police presence is unsettling

I do not feel as if they are on every corner with tanks and guns for my protection, but rather for the states protection from me.

The police prowl the streets every where stopping people at random to check their legitimacy and i.d. i suppose. And they are always not far behind when protests take place along Istiklal street...which is the most famous street in Istanbul i'm sure.

there are scattered police stations everywhere, with men stationed out front with weapons that look eerily similar to AK-47's.

In my travels in Eastern Turkey i commented to my friend that there were only young men in hordes wandering the streets. and when there are young men with nothing to do wandering around...(no offense to the male gender) bad things tend to happen

there were police on motorcycles riding through a park and a young man made a snarky comment out loud as the police rode by. I was shocked to see them stop...get off their bike and begin to verbally harrass the young man and proceed to ask him for his id and begin to question him like he was a suspect of some crime.

I could have completley misread the situation but it seemed ridiculous that the most pressing matter that two policemen could deal with at the moment was a young boy who was being obnoxious...

but that is the feeling i gather from the police presence in Turkey...they are like a military force allowing the public to fulfill their wishes in a fashion that does not disrupt the order of the state...which could speak to my misunderstanding the role of police in America as well.

I see them as protecting me...but really maybe they are more like Turkish police...maybe they are not protecting society from itself but protecting the establishment from society....

things to think about...
Ciao!
Jessi

is it too late to apologize

My darling readers
lately i have been negligent and remiss in my blogging duties
for that i sincerely apologize...again
however
in my own defense, i've been very busy not doing homework and not writing papers for class, which has given me minimal time on the computer and thus less access to my blog.

But now i shall let you in on a little secret frustration i have with Turkey because it is only fair that i tell you the ups and downs right?

I have come to observe that many (not all) Turkish people do not like to be inconvienced in any way...whether driving, waiting in line,shopping, or sitting in class-- they do not like for things to be inconvienent for themselves. That being said...the irony is that they could care less whether by making things convenient for themselves they inconvienence someone else...

I've noticed this more and more often as i go through everyday life here.

For example, at the police station i waited patiently in line for 25 minutes, just standing in line...as soon as i reached the counter a young lady and her mother came rushing into the room and elbowed in front of me and spoke quickly in Turkish to the officer...i dont speak Turkish so what could i do but give an evil glare and resign myself to wait....but no...the man behind me in line was so upset about this that he started yelling and hollering and raising hell until the officer had to be distracted from what he was doing to calm the man down, explain the situation and promise to get to him next...

so at this point i'm now in line behind two rude people and all of us have to wait another 20 extra minutes because of 2 peoples impatience...whereas simply abiding by the rules of the line would have gotten everyone through quicker right? logic dictates this idea


In class the professor gives us the option of making our own class time, later in the day preferably because no one wants to be in class at 10 am..

We are almost at an agreement for thursday at 4pm when one boy insists he cannot do this because he doesn't like late classes...he refuses to change his mind so we end up stuck with class at 10 am every thursday!

One guy's dislike for late classes overrides 15 people who agree on their dislike for 10am classes.

but that is my only complaint for the day...i apologize if i have offended any one i sincerely do not mean to imply Turkish people are generally rude...au contraire...most of them are so welcoming and warm that i've felt guilty accepting their hospitality...

i'm just saying.....sometimes life doesn't work out the way you like it to...when life gives you lemons you make lemonade and if you dont like lemonade then give the lemons back politely and say "no, thank you".

ciao!
jessi

What to say...

I am afraid...
i have so much to say about the past week i spent in Gaziantep
that i feel i might start writing and it will turn into an incoherent stream of conciousness type of thing.
Like in HighSchool when they make you read "classic" books that are completely illogical and make no sense to sane humans...but then again i have a theory that all English teachers and literature teachers have a strong dose of insanity in there souls. You have to in order to make any sense of the jumbled thoughts that people create when they put pen to paper with the intention of changing your life.

But i digress...already i've lost the point

Gaziantep is a beautiful ancient place, and its people take great pride it in, they love it as if they came from the ground itself...like daffodils springing from the rocks.
It's supposed to be a big city...but they way people greet you when you meet them on the street it feels like small town USA to me.

On one occasion during the holiday we were trying to find Gaziantep castle and ended up straying through a local neighborhood were some children were playing. As we stopped to ask them for directions a little boy took my hand and kissed it and wished me a happy bayram...

suddenly i didn't feel like a foreigner in a strange land...i felt like a long lost relative.

All of my friends young cousins and nephews and neices called me Jessi-abla....meaning jessi sister

I was shopping for souvenir's at this amazing bazar and an older gentleman called me his daughter and gave me a beautiful Indian scarf as a gift, along with directions to some of the oldest places in Gaziantep.

I can hardly speak a word of Turkish, but i never felt more welcome then when i was in Gaziantep and every where i went was home, and everyone we spoke to was family.

Out of respect of the wishes of my hosts in Gaziantep i will not blog in detail about my experiences...but i will definatly continue to make some notes in my future blogs about intresting things i did and saw there...so keep your eyes open!

Ciao!
Jessi

marathon wedding!

Ah young love...
Fatih's cousin decided to drop the bachelor part of his life and ask a young nurse to marry him.
There's going to be a wedding!

However there is a catch....Turkish traditional weddings combined with the Muslim traditions are somewhat different and more complicated then i'm used to..there are about 4 different stages to go through before the happy couple can say they are actually married.

Luckily for me i'm coming in at a perfect time, the beginning of the process is going to be tomorrow for Fatih's cousin (Firat) and i'm invited...which by default means you are also invited dear reader because i will tell you every detail.

However, i will give you a brief overview of the stages right now...partially because i'm bored and have nothing to do, and partially because i have been so very neglectful this month with my blogging...for which i sincerely apologize :)

Tomorrow Firat, his father, mother, Fatih and other family members...and me...will go visit the young nurses home to ask her father and mother and i quote "Our son, Firat, is in love with your daughter and we wish to take her into our lives and our family with love". [this is a translated version of what Fatih told me would happen...however as any woman knows...men pay minimal attention to the matter of weddings and things like this...so i am very flexible with his rendition]
The young nurses parents can answer however they like, and if they accept there is much happiness and drinking of tea and talking happily about the future and beginning to plan the next stages.

The next stage is to find the Imam and have him bless and marry the couple. This is the woman's oppurtunity to make stipultations...such as, if she will be a housewife and fears divorce then she may ask for the house in case of a divorce or ask that the husband pay for food and livelihood for her until she can find other arrangements...kind of like a church led prenup. at this point they are officially Fiance-ed

Then there is a "bachlorette party" but not in the American sense of the word. The women from both sides of the newly united family gather together and give the bride henna tatoos and jewlery and other girly things...and i'm sure they discuss men and give advice.

The next stage is a dance party. I honestly cannot think of another way to explain it except that all of the family members from both sides gather together and dance, and eat etc. here the couple continue to receive gifts and nice trinkets.

The final stage is the wedding and the official paper signing and all of the good stuff that makes the couple actual legally husband and wife.

This can take years or it can take months...depends on how eager the groom is to "put his neck in the noose"...{and that is also Fatih's rendition}

Ah young love...you have to appreciate a couple willing to go through this long process at 23 years of age...many chances for embarrassment...but then that is what families are for!

Ciao!

the love of a parent on a foggy day

It's amazing...the love of a parent- they can work 12 hour days on their feet with barely enough energy for the drive home and yet given the choice they would do it all again for you...for their child....but let me start this story where it belongs....from the beginning.

Suprise suprise, i wake up in the morning and the sky is clouded over and the entire city of Istanbul looks like one giant gloom town. I shuffle out of bed and into the shower with barely enough energy to open my eyes. but somehow, perhaps divine intervention i make it through the monotony of my early morning readiness ritual and find a seat in the front lobby of my dorm.

The plan: to meet up at noon and go with Fatih to meet his cousin and tour the Asian side of Istanbul.
The Catch: Fatih does not show up for 20 minutes
The problem: I am impatient
The Result: I call my friend Maja and decide to visit the Christmas Bazar with her at the German School on Istiklal street

I set off with Maja, cursing Fatih's name for making me get up before noon only to stand me up, and we make our way to the German School for our own pre-glimpse of Christmas.
The first sight we see is hot dogs and some manner of potato salad...not appetizing and not what i was expecting.
However this is traditional German Christmas food so we dig up Maja's German friend Sabrina and she gives us a tour of the festival while feeding up delicious german Christmas treats. I actualy find myself getting cheerier as i walk through room after room of mistletoe, wreaths and gingerbread cookies. It was fantastic, not to mention the hot Apple-cider wine was just what i needed to get into the spirit.

I leave Maja to go check on my friend Sara who has been ill...and we cruise Istiklal for a while to find food but we only find a budding protest with the police gearing up and ready to follow cautiously and make sure nothing gets out of hand. We decide that nothin's doing and we split.

I rush back down to my dorm to find my friend Nuri and inform him that i cannot go to Pendik in the Asian side of Istanbul with him because he has recently been ill with what i possibly deem as Swine Flu and i dont want to be sick.

However i have a real soft spot for patient people because i am so so very far from patient. Nuri has been waiting for me for about an hour with his little brother and i quickly agree to go to Pendik with him

Yes, i am glad that i made that decision

Pendik is this town that has very few tourists and very friendly open people. I find myself sitting in Nuri's father's shop that sells Borek and Pasta(cake) and other baked goods, including Baklava. When i think of hosiptality, from now on i will think of my time here in Turkey because they would not let me lift a finger to do anything while i was in the shop. They brought me tray's full of food and they kept my tea cup filled and they brought me napkins because i inevitably spill like an infant, all over myself. Not to mention they turn on the tv to keep me entertained when customers enter. And ever person who stops by seems to be a friend and they introduce me and i am greeted with shy smiles and cute attempts at english speaking.

A little boy who works at the shop next door visits frequently during my stay and he is definatly a womanizer in the making, but he has a winning smile and the most adorable lisp...and when he mimicks my words... his english pronunciation is perfect, despite the fact that he speaks no english at all.

All day i sit at the shop with Nuri, his brother and his mom and dad, who are in the back of the shop cooking and cleaning up a storm. By the time i leave at 10 pm.. they are obviously exhausted, so much that they merely wave feebly before climbing into the car and driving home.

A full day of baking and cooking, to send 4 kids to college and make sure they don't have to work another job on the side. These are parents that will give their every last breath to make sure that their kids will succeed and not have to work so labouriously. I can admire parents like that because i see the same actions in the U.S. and proves to me that parenting....the kind that smothers the kids until they feel like they can't even breath anymore, but in reality is just simple love...is also universal.

A word on the Asian side of Istanbul...newer...cleaner...more friendly....calmer....IN short, it felt like an actual town and not a massive city...it felt like the Colorado as opposed to New York. Each has its high points, but when it comes down to it, i like friendly people that will say hi to you and ask your name when they meet you...i like the people who treat you like family and ask you to sit down and have tea and who force you to eat until you think you might burst. That was my impression of the Asian side, but i'm sure i'll get more information on it as i continue to explore it in my last few weeks.


On the late drive home it becomes apparent that those clouds that were hovering gloomily in the sky in the morning, have now lost their energy and are sitting heavily and drearily directly on the city...in the form of fog.

Now i hear that the drive over the Bogazi bridge is breathtakingly beautiful and on a sunny day the gleaming water gives the illusion of flight, but i was lucky to see the taillights of the car in front of us as we crept along the rode back to Tophane. The fog had set so heavily on the city that even the lights of the bridge were extinguished from 10 feet away. but i didn't mind in reality, because i was sitting in a car with two Turkish guys who were listening eagerly to their football team winning an important match. they were shouting and whooping and stuffing chocolate into their mouths like they didn't have a care in the world. And suddenly, neither did i...

try it, i dare you

Nov 10 1938, at the age of 57 Ataturk the father of the Turkish republic died.

71 years later i'm standing in Taksim square just a mile or so away from Dolmabache Palace where he died.
At 9:05, precisely the time Ataturk died, most traffic stops moving except for a few motorcycles trying to make a timely delivery and most Turkish citizens stop moving and bear 1 minute of silence in rememberance of the legendary Turkish leader

Of course i'm slightly confused and stumbling around my room in the early rays of morning light at this time, because i'm not a morning person by any grand stretch of the imagination, i wasn't for the 12 years of life when my mother had to bribe me to get out of bed in the morning untill now where it is rough going to get up for a 11 o clock class

As i step out of the shower to start my busy day...one of the few i've had while here...a loud siren goes off..so loud that i am transported in time back to WWII and the bomb raids....that kind of siren. It throws off my foggy concentration and i slip and fall, but no one hears thankfully since the sirens are echoing across Turkey.

At the statue of Ataturk, of which many are situated around the city, police barricades have been placed and a fully dressed guard stands patiently in front of the flowered wreaths respectfully placed in front of every statue of him.

It's beautiful, the respect and honor the place on their beloved leader, and whether you like the man or not, you can understand and admire the way that his people respect him.

Of course, i am on a mission on this particular day, so i dont have time to take pictures and bask in the mourning. I have to guide a DU worker who has arrived in Turkey for a conference around Istanbul.

Feeling particularly like an expert, as Sara and I take Carol (the visitor) around i tell her what knowledge i have picked up and suprise myself with the extent of it. It suprising what you learn when you immerse yourself

At this time i must take a moment and tell all travelers- past and future- dont ever think you know anything...ever. When you go some place and you know alot about it, or live there and learn alot about it, i guarantee you have barely tapped the vastness of knowledge that exists for you. Dont ever be satisfied with what you know and what you have learned...just take it it, swallow and let it settle before going back for more and more.

Granted their are times i feel so overstimulated i'm sure i'll pop like a lightbulb when a power surge shoots through. which is why you must take you time, and take deep breaths...take time for yourself to process all you have taken in...then go back out there and give it another shot.

Carols visit was a great oppuurtunity for me to process all that i have taken in and see where the holes in my knowledge exist and where i need to reach out and try harder. For instance she mentioned that some students study abroad and have a hard time because it doesn't meet their expectations...here is my solution to that problem: have none...just take all your ideas of how it will be and throw them out the window...start from scratch! then you will get a more accurate drawing :)

Next item on the list...my day with Carol and Sara ended at 5 in a migraine and me hiding pitifully under my covers after taking a tour of Blue Mosque.

Moral of this story...drink lots of water and be sure to eat 3 square meals a day...or you will feel like death walking as evening hits.

2nd Moral of this story- get out of your box...seriously. what do you need a box for anyway! its dark and its boring and not very much room. you can't fit anyone else in their with you and it doesn't give you much room to grow, and familiarity breeds contempt anyways....so get out of that stuffy, stifling, uninteresting box and try something new...really new...beyond a new type of alcohol or a new route to work/school...i can't guarantee anything except that you have one life...and maybe, just maybe you should use it to live? i'm just sayin' :)

prayer time....mosque style

"you look really good in a head scarf"

I wasn't sure whether this was to be taken as a compliment, or a comment on the state of my fuzzy untamed mane that was now completely covered by a modest black headscarf i had recently donned in order to attend evening prayer at the Kilic Ali Pasa mosque.

Last night my friend Nuri invites me to attend mosque with him and with usual gusto that i almost always later regret i smiled and said "of course"

Thankfully my terrific friend Sara is very knowledgeable about Islam and speaks Turkish so i invite her to come with us and she agrees.

The process before you go to mosque includes washing...your hands, feet, face, mouth, and nose. You must be clean before you go into Gods mosque. And even if you break wind after washing...you have to go and do it all again.

It makes sense respect yourself and God enough to be clean...you don't go eating at your mothers table with mud all over...you wash your hands!

So we are walking to the mosque and Nuri tells me that i look good in a head scarf...and my first instinct is to be flattered at the compliment, but my second and more American instinct tells me i should be offended that he is saying i look good when he can see less of me. Now lets take a moment and try to think of why this is...why should i be offended that even with my head all covered, wearing a loose baggy sweater someone tells me i look good? The answer: I shouldn't be offended, it is my delicate American perception that tells me i should be uncovered to be beautiful.

So while we are walking to the mosque i am considering all the women i have seen who are covered....and it is true, even with a limited perspective of what they look like they have a glowing beauty about them, and an aire of pure confidence that you cannot find even from a woman wearing clothes that bare all. It is confidence that comes from within, and that is a beauty that everyone can see no matter how covered or uncovered you are!

The mosque and prayer were beautiful, when you step into a mosque it is like stepping into someones home. There is a peace and quiet and love about the place that makes you feel comfortable. It helps that the whole place is carpeted so your bare feet are nice and cushioned every place you step.

I take my shoes off and we all step into the mosque and Nuri, like the good host he is, shows me around the mosque and tells me about the Muezzin which is the man who calls out the prayer for the ezan; and the Imam calls out the prayer for the actual prayer time. Then he shows Sara and I to the womens section of the mosque for prayer.

Again my spidey sense is tingling and telling me that i should again be offended that i am seperated from the men like i am something less...is it my fault if a man cant concentrate during prayer, why doesn't he have the responsiblity to control himself...why do i have to go to the balcony section so that he can pray more comfortably? But once i push that initial knee jerk reaction away i feel much better. I actually can understand that the men inside the mosque are not trying to make me feel inferior, they are simply there to pray to God and if i am there also to pray then what does it matter where i am...i could be six feet under and God will still hear me.

Therefore i climb up the stairs to the balcony where some kind ladies show me how to correctly prostrate myself before God and pray...and since i do not understand the words of the Imam i simply think to myself about God and what i have learned about him through my church and i concentrate on being earnest and praying for myself, family and friends....which granted is slightly difficult when i had to watch the lady next to me out of the corner of my eye so i knew when to stand and when to kneel and touch my head to the floor.

I felt a sense of connection, coming out of the mosque...it is a meditation, a communion with God that people find when they pray and that is what really matters...if you really believe in God then he knows what is in your heart and in your head so all the gestures and cleansing actions you make are for show it seems, and to show respect for the religion and its traditions....In reality i doubt very much whether God cares if you are a clean person or a dirty person....as long as you are a good person.

However, a mosque to me, is much like a church...if you need somewhere to go where people will be quiet and respectful and clean and worshipping....it is the perfect place to be! No matter what religion you are...

Incoherent Pondering on a rainy day...

Fatih..my cultural informant as DU study abroad packet would call him...got in an arguement with me today...it is apparent that people have pride in their nations no matter how wrong or right they think their own government is. Fatih and i both have a habit of being too defensive...when he mentions the Iraq war the hairs on the back of my neck practically stand on end and i prepare to do battle. When i mention the slaves of the Ottman empire he barely lets me finish before he counter attacks.
We both have to step outside of ourselves in order to have a meaningful conversation because we have come to the point where arguing with each other doesn't get us anywhere at all. I can scream and yell at him and defend Americas honor but at the end of the day his mind is made up, rightly or wrongly, fairly or unfairly he has his opinions about my nation. The same goes for my thoughts on his beloved Turkey...we are both ready to defend our nation with words.
The important thing i am learning is to acknowledge. When i nod in acceptance or carefully consider his words before passing judgement, we actually make head way. When i listen to his arguements on why he is against the Iraq war i can understand and even appreciate his point of view. i can even assure him that many Americans would agree with many of his points.
At the end of the day though, when we are sitting on the terrace while he smokes a Camel cigarette while i sip on my tea, everything we disagree about matters very little. We have on fundamental agreement, that comes from our religions Christianity and Islam: love.
Rumi thought that friends lives affect each other...when a frog ties itself to a mouse and the mousealso gets picked up by a crow...the frog goes with it. it doesn't matter what the frog believes or what he does...that is the "force of friendship"
and now my dear readers i am sure that if i have not affectively bored you to death i have confused you to tears so i will reluctantly leave off my philosophizing... which would gravely disappoint Descartes with its spastic nature...and leave you with a final thought...
could it be that what fundamentally divides us (religion, ideas, social class) has the ability to fundamentally unite us? After all if we are all so dedicated and loyal to our ideals and morals...then we share at least one thing...our dedication and loyalty...and isnt' that what matters anyway...the bread is the important part...not the kind of jam you put on it!
ciao!
jessi

Liver...and a revelation

Happy Republic day!

yesterday was the anniversary of the creation of the Turkey that we know today...therefore all across Istanbul there were more flags draped over balconies and hanging of terraces then usual and not to mention the many Ataturk memorabilia flags and posters that were visible on every corner. I was sure that night time would bring a huge celebration with fireworks and such, but as i wandered out of my dorm to cruise through my main street in Istanbul (Istiklal) i stopped by my friends room to deliver his cigarettes he had left on my desk. Little did i know what i was getting myself into...as soon as i poke my head into his room, (which by the way is inhabited by 14 guys- all twenty something aged. ) I see 9 guys sitting at the table eating dinner. As soon as the first one sees me he waves me into the room where they all insist i stay and eat even though i beg them not to because i just ate my own dinner. They pull up a chair and hand me a loaf of bread, a cup of Pepsi and a fork and tell me not to be shy. Of course i start eating and they all watch, like waiting for a storm to erupt, as soon as i have swallowed a few bites, they inform me that i am eating cooked liver , and do i like it? I swallow hard and pull together a smile and nod my head enthusiastically. Suprisingly it is good, but now that they mention it i start picturing an actual bloodly liver as deliver forkfuls of the meat into my mouth.

Of course throughout dinner i have to water down my mouth because spices seem to be a way of life in Turkey and i feel as though every bite i take is setting my mouth on fire. In any case, i feel like i am sitting in the middle of a family dinner...all the guys are chatting easily and of course teasing each other mercilessly and talking about classes, cars and the state of the world... (i think they omitted any conversation about women due to my presence, for which i was very grateful). The switch easily between English and Turkish and sometimes ever Kurdish and every now and then when Islam comes up...a bit of Arabic. I was intrested to learn that not only did the guys cook the dinner all by themselves, but as soon as they finished and i stood to help clean up, they all demanded that i sit down and not touch anything.

they clean the entire table and head outside for a smoke in groups of 2 and 3, only stragglers remain at the table with me. They ask me if i smoke and when i shake my head they nod firmly, "very good". I ask one of the guys if the dinner was in celebration of Republic Day and he just laughs...apparently celebrating Republic day is not an idea they have considered. I think they are just enjoying each others company in the presence of food...

Of course the highlight of my night was when i took a picture of all of them sitting at the table enjoying their meal....honestly it looks like a family, it looks like unity, friendship and freedom...all the things that Republic day is supposed to symbolize.

I guess i understand why they dont need to celebrate it on any specific day...they live it every day!

Things i have learned...in and about Turkey...so far

If you want something...you have to get it for yourself

Ignore lines, push your way to the front and make yourself heard

always dress to impress

everything can be said with hand gestures to match

bread is essential to every meal....its even a meal itself

having tea is as good as having a conversation

there is never a bad time to take a nap

walk slowly and leisurely

friendliness is next to godliness

If you offer something and the person declines, it is only because they did not hear you...keep offering until they accept

language barrier means nothing...keep talking...the person will eventually understand you

hospitality is a way of living

use evidence to make an arguement, evidence itself is not an arguement

your actual name is irrelevant as is what you prefer to be called, terms of endearment and elaborate versions of your name are all viable options even if i dont know you that well

Galatasaray is the best football team!

after initial introduction is it quite okay to ask very invasive, probing, provocative questions about your life, relationships, morals, religion, bodily functions, politics, etc.

personal space is optional

men being transfixed to the tv when the game is on is a global problem...not an American one

When someone says you are their friend, they really mean it...as in they will call you, bring you medicine when you are sick, remember your birthday, invite you to their home, make sure you have food, let you borrow whatever you want, take you to see the beautiful places unknown to tourists....unlike America

When you see an english speaker walk past it is always best to speak whatever english words you know to try and get their attention...from "Hello" to "Kobe Bryant" it doesn't matter the words...just use them (side note...english speakers of the female variety will almost always not respond to this enticement)

MOST IMPORTANT (this one is for Sara): Do not speak in English about certain male features and assume that the male you are speaking about does not understand you...chances are stacked against you that if you are talking about him in english...he speaks/understands english...(especially if the book he is reading is in english)

thats all for now...more certainly to come!

xox
Jessi

if you jump...you won't fly

Ortakoy....
it was like a mystical elusive place that everyone i talked to had been and loved, and told me i HAD to go see. But no one could explain it to me they just said "oh its amazing, you have to go!" of course when people say that they usually mean the shopping is great, you can get cheap Prada, or that there are plenty of tourists so you have a good chance of speaking english to the waiter at your restaurant/cafe and not getting a blank stare in return.
This was not Ortakoy.
It was a spur of the moment decision between Begüm and Ahmet and myself. We were walking back from class...(i was coming back from an unproductive day at the library) and i said i wanted a kumpir, which is a great potato mixture that i have fallen in love with. We decide that it is worth waiting for the bus in the heat of the day for a quick trip to Ortakoy.
The bus ride was as usual, interesting, between almost falling over repeatedly and being smooshed and tossed around like a rag doll i made it in one piece. I felt so bad for Begum and Ahmet having to put up with me wandering around like the tourist i am, but they managed to keep my head out of the clouds long enough to get kumpir and find a seat by the Bosphorous.
The view was spectacular....as many trees as you see driving through West Virginia, and the smell of the water of course is intoxicating...like a dream, water waves lapping the concrete and the caw of sea gulls. Then straight ahead is the huge blue Bosphorous Bridge that looms like a link to the past. I wondered how big it was, how high over the water, when it had been built, but at the same time i didn't want to break the silence and ask my questions. So i kept them to myself....a mystery for me to discover on my own i guess...in any case it was just a quick trip with my new Turkish friends, but it was once again, a memorable one...They are so loving as friends, when i am with them i feel so comfortable as if i am with my own family, i can laugh and smile and they just laugh and smile with me, and we dont have to talk in order to have fun...
in any case...
Ahmet did mention the sad fact that sunday when there was a marathon, some guy jumped off the bridge and committed suicide...and we all agreed, that is one way to go...get attention and fall through the air like a peregin falcon swooping down to get its prey...HOwever one important point to make...if you jump...doesn't matter how high or what you jump off...you will not fly...you may feel like you are flying for a few amazing seconds....but you will not ever fly.
So i think we also agreed, its better to live...if all life is suffering, then at least we are all suffering together right? So its not all bad : )
Ciao
Jessi

Farewell to mediocrity

Is it possible to reach Utopia in this world
A friend, Fatih, and i were discussing this idea last night
He argued that it is impossible to reach utopia because doomsday will come and the world will become worse regardless of what we do.

I argued that the idea of doomsday is a dangerous one, because if the whole world will become awful anyway then what is the point of trying to change the world for the better
if you tell a person that something is impossible what is their motivation to try?
I dont believe that this world will ever be perfect, especially when i walk through a college campus here in Turkey and people marvel at the fact that i am in fact a black girl. but i always believe it is possible to change the world despite all that is wrong.

I wonder at the fact that some students have never seen a black person in their lives...living spoiled in America i thought the world was getting used to the fact that people of every color and ever ethnic background, and religious background are everywhere. Not so here in Turkey, the only other black people i have seen live in the impoverished areas of town which most university students don't venture to see.

You see the university students are just as bad as university students in America. the majority of them dont volunteer or interact with the homeless and the impoverished at all...they get on a shuttle bus that drives them straight past all the poor areas of town with a layer of glass and air conditioning between them and the outside world. The only interaction they get with the "common people" is when they brush past them quickly at night on the way to a club or a bar.

It's sad really...how sheltered they allow themselves to be, and i'm not simply talking about turkish people. I'm also speaking of the ignorant college students i go to class with who cannot tell the difference between Pakistan and Iran. The American students who think they are so educated but still think that everyone in the middle east speaks the same languge. They are no better then the turkish students that wonder if they rub my skin will the color come off.

I am not angry at them for living in their ignorance happily. I am sad for them, really and truly sad. it must be a small shallow pool they swim in....i wish i could show them the ocean and all the colors and space, and ideas floating about, but you cannot force someone to see when they will not open their eyes.

So this blog is to all the amazing people i have met and have yet to meet...all the people who open your eyes to experiences, and volunteer to help the less fortunate, people who know how to cook, people who read books, people who admit when they are wrong...people who want to learn more, people who year to study and travel, and people who have traveled...this blog is to all those with open eyes...who see the sadness and the plight of this world but refuse to just get on their shuttle bus and pretend it all doesn't exist...this one is for you....you can say "Farewell to mediocrity"

xox
Jessi

To fly off a tower on golden wings

My darling readers...

do you appreciate art? do you think you know good art when you see it? what do you classify as art? Is literature a type of art...? Music? Dance? What does art mean to you? Does it bring out specific emotion...does it bring out meaning and memories? Does it touch your heart and motivate you to do great things? Is art a source of inspiration or entertainment?

I went to a light show at Galata Tower. It was a performance by artists in Istanbul titled: Visibility Project 5.

First i will share the history of Galata Tower....built sometime in 1430 it is an old look out tower that towers over Istanbul and at night the view is spectacular. The story goes that a man climbed up the tower with a set of golden wings and jumped off the tower and glided all the way to the opposing shore of Istanbul (Golden Horn). He was labled a heretic or something by the Ottoman Emperor and thrown in prison or killed...i'm not clear on the details.

SO already the Tower is shrouded in mystery...

Now on to the night in question... at about 930 my friend Maja and i journey to Galata tower and push our way through the bohemian crowd that is mobbing at the base of the tower waiting for the light show to begin. When it starts the first thing i notice is...it is nothing that is so spectacular...there are people with large flashlight things and paper covers to change the light color...standing in various places around the base of the tower and shining there lights on it.

the crowd is roaring and yelling with pleasure at the slowly changing lights....and it suddenly dawns on me that the shadows are creating an effect that makes the tower seem taller. and the more i look the more details a start to notice...such as the reflections of the light positions on the buildings around us is a blur of all the light colors...in conglomerations that mirror the shapes of flowers. Maja and i watch until the end, and as soon as the music stops and the artists are finished the crowd starts to cheer and shout and music begins to blare loudly...it slowly becomes a party like atmosphere...but instead of drunken antics, people are having legitimate conversations about...well...art about their opinions and perceptions of the light show. I didn't stay around to listen but i did manage to get a picture that will stay in my mind forever...

i was attempting to take a picture of the sign that proclaimed the name of the event, and two things happened as soon as i pushed the shutter button...1.) One of the artists turned his large flashlight in my general direction and 2.) a man in front of me in the shadows raised his arm in mock triumph for the success of the show.

the picture is the one in the upper right hand corner of this blog.

So this event has led me to start thinking of art...what it means to me, what i consider to be art, and whether i have any right to judge anothers artistic abilities.

Art has come to mean something completely different to me here in Istanbul. There is the woman in front of a shop near the mosques who weaves rugs...it takes her about 2 years to finish one. It is a tedious task but very challenging...not just anyone can do it...i think it is an art.

There is a man who sits on the street with a traditional turkish instrument and he plays traditional Turkish songs and he sings...his voice is far from inspiring and his playing is mediocre but somehow the sad way he sings, and the emotion he puts behind the music he makes is haunting to me....he is an artist

This group of men and women who put together the light show and created shadows on a tower, who inspired a crowd of people my age to do something other then drink and talk about silly nothings...they are artists as well.

Art is something that drives you, inspires you, moves you, touches you, makes you think, consider, talk, discover. It is something that hovers over you, like an idea and you are constantly trying to explain it to people...through painting, dancing, singing, writing, drawing, playing the banjo, playing with light structure, sculpting....and so many more ways... and that is difficult....which is why everyone who tries it is not an artist, and every artist does not create art in every single peice.

Imagine having a knawing idea in the back of your brain but everytime you try to get it out, only a little comes out...would you not try and try and keep trying until the whole thing came out...well, that is art methinks ...artists see/hear/conceptualize something in their mind and they try to spit it out...sometimes it comes out perfectly...sometimes not

But the great thing about art is it's a form of communication that surpases boundaries. In a crowd of Turkish bohemians in the dark i felt more emotion and unity then i do in a movie theatre of people who admire Gerard Butlers amazing bone structure the same way i do.

Its affecting, art is....so i ask again readers...what does art mean to you?

xox

Jessi

22 years later....

Technically since it is now 1205 it is no longer my birthday but i'll write about it as if it still is....
it was a great day. I woke up and went to chruch with Maja...and then we ate with the church congregation, Iranian rice which was amazing...and then we had cake and coffee at my favorite cafe. And then i went back to the dorm and watched movies on my computer and talked to Fatih about the mysteries of life and then i went to dinner. That would have been a perfect ending to a perfectly normal day but my amazing friends suprised me with cake, champagne and baklava and a bracelet, with the birthday song...i couldn't wish for anything better then friends like the ones i have made here, the kind of friends that you can count on to cheer you up even when you haven't told them you are feeling down. They make every day something special and i mean that from the bottom of my heart. They have known me a month, and yet i feel closer to them than many of my friends back home... (Matt, Eric, Rosalyn you are exluded from that). its amazing how i didn't have to say anything at all, i didn't remind anyone it was my birthday they just made me feel so special, i could go on and on but the point of this blog is simply to record the great feeling i have inside right now, i feel at home, i feel like me, i feel so complete and so happy right now its hard to believe that all is not right in the world...Allright enough sappy blog talk...next time i promise i'll have something constructive to talk about

Take a walk on the wild side...

Okay i feel compelled my dear loyal readers, to give at least one blog devoted to the partying lifestyle...in honor of that goal i partied European style last night.
First lets take a look at European lifestyle which is incredibly conducive to partying: If you are awake before 11 am you will find the streets are empty except for the hardworking shop owners and curious tourists. (and of course Starbucks workers). This is because people do not wake up early and go to work...they go to work when they wake up.
Second lets take a look at the night clubs and bars, as well as cafe's: Food and drink are available for those few and brave who wake up early- (it is highly likely you will find some men sitting at a cafe at 10 am drinking a beer or two) from early until 6 or 7 am...and probably beyond...but i do not have the stamina to find out just how "late" the clubs stay open.
Third, let us take a look at my night out on the town in Istanbul: I get showered and pampered and dressed up to go out, along with some help from my lovely roomates who advise me what to wear and just how much make up i need to cover my already tired looking eyes. At 930 pm we find a bar and start drinking...and keep drinking...and keep drinking until midnight. Now at this time i should mention that the conversations we had, i can not recall because they were so unimportant and drunk talk conversations...(college students probably can smile fondly at this moment). At this point we are far past buzzed and have moved towards full on drunk. We shuffle and sway our way to Club Clinic.
At this point I should mention that most clubs are on the top floor of 4 or 5 story buildings and therefore have an outside terrace for smokers and people who need air and a break for dancing. Really awesome idea in principle, but Club Clinic...(in which the security searches all the men, but lets women straight through) has 5 flights of stairs and all are pitch black. So as we climb i'm clinging to Ahmets arm...(at this particular party one girl could bring 2 guys, and guys couldn't come alone) and Matt is behind me to catch me if i fall. All i remember about the climb up the stairs is that it was loud and people's voices were echoing, and the stairs seemed to be moving as we climbed. But we made it to the top laughinig and gasping for air. the smokers among us were in suprisingly good shape. At the club, we continue drinking and start dancing and time passes and before i know it, like the old lady i am...i'm ready to head home. So i grab two of my friends and another nice girl i met at the club and we head out. Of course by now we are all so drunk that its useless to pretend to even have coherent conversations, so we chat about nothing and we get sidetracked by a small shop that sells toat and baked potatoes. We stop and chow down at 3am like stoners with the munchies...and then we continue the trek home.
When i fall into bed at around 430...the room is spinning and i'm cursing myself for drinking too much...but of course in the States you have a small amount of time to drink too much alcohol, so i'm used to 4 hours of drinking and too many shots. Here in Europe i was drinking for about 6 hours non stop, beer, shots, and mixed drinks. Not to mention i was one of the first to head home!
The hangover of today has left me crippled as far as brain function goes so that is why i am here blogging instead of reading diligently.
My conclusion is this....i should stick to studying and trying to change the world...i think i've passed my prime on the partying.
Ciao!
Jessi

Tear gassed!

Wow!
how awesome/crazy/scary...today there were two protests on istiklal while i was there in a cafe enjoying some delicious borek, the usual IMF protest and then another anarchy protest. I was watching in enjoyment as they passed by banging on drums and dancing, it was very entertaining and they were seemingly peaceful i quite liked them. however not long after they passed by i see hordes of policemen, and the police tank come rolling by the same window...i could hear helicopters flying over the street repeatedly and the police have their gas masks on and batons out...i knew it couldnt' end well. I wasn't in the midst of the action as my friend Sara was, she has a much better story to tell i'm sure, but when Fatih and i left the cafe...the manager stopped us and told us not to leave because it was dangerous....many of the shops along the street were closing their doors and putting the metal doors down.
People were running down the street with scarves covering their faces and suddenly i got a huge wiff of tear gas and i start coughing and my eyes start watering...I get a text from Sara about the situation and how some people got arrested and the police broke up the protests using tear gas...i cannot choose sides of course because i have no idea what happened but being in that environment was kinda exhilirating...i think maybe i should be a journalist, because i wanted to go see what was happening, and run into the action where everyone else was running out. Thankfully Fatih was with me and wouldn't let me go, or i would have been in the middle of something i probably shouldn't have been in.
How neat it feels to be so close to all the action! now if i just knew what happened i would be complete! I'll be sure to blog later on the activist actions in Istanbul, becuase i feel like its a hub for activist activity which means many interesting blogs are still to come!
ciao
jessi

Breaking News!

Remember folks...you heard it here first!

Today Oct 1, 2009 IMF president Dominique Strauss gave a small speech at University of Bilgi. I was in attendence due to the awesome high profile nature of my UN professor, he got the whole class in before even the press got to enter the auditorium. Anways the speech was great, Strauss was reassuring albeit a bit defensive about the IMF during the Economic crisis. He definatly stressed the need for tighter fiscal policy globally and also stated the new agreement for a 0% interest loan for developing countries as long as they meet certain standards for dispersing the money into the economy.
The exciting moment came near the end during the question and answer session, when out of nowhere some student comes down the steps yelling in Turkish and throws his shoe at Strauss. Similar to the Bush situation he gets chased and grabbed by Secret Service and a young lady student carrying a graffiti flag also yelling in Turkish is carted out behind him.
Now i'm all in favor of a good protest, but i cannot stand it when people refuse to listen and instead try to impose their voice over yours. This was the perfect setting and oppurtunity for this group (turns out they are a communist Turkish organization) to ask questions...hard ones and demand answers, and also to give their comments in an open forum. All their yelling and disrespect turned me immidieatly off to their cause and made me sympathize more with the IMF for having to deal with situations like that.
This leads me to my soap box....
I appreciate people speaking their mind, however i don't like when people spout their uneducated opinions as fact and try to sway others to their view through loud misinformation. For example this Turkish communist group hails Stalin as a hero and admires him greatly. I want to tell them that they can admire whomever they wish but the should at least acknowledge and respect the hundreds of thousands of lives that Stalin is responsible for taking.
I admire intelligence, but i respect people that can question what they believe to be true, and at least listen to both sides of everything. It is a challenge i think to open up your mind so that you take in everything and yet still stick to your own set of values. That is the ideal...as for groups that want their voice to be heard....i challenge them to listen to all the other voices out there...listen and absorb and then make their own voice heard. And try to do it without throwing shoes.
Which brings me to my final point, if you want attention, throw a fit...any 2 year old child knows that...minimal brain power. If you want to make a point, sit down and be verbal....use your words...ask questions, state opinions....if you throw a shoe you look like a fool...and if you admire someone who can simply throw a shoe...then you are twice the fool, in my opinion.

bye bye!
Jessi

A moment of silence....

Today was yet another day of bureacracy, with me getting my residence permit at the police station. I waited a good three hours and finally paid my 135 lira and will pick up the packet tomorrow. Technically they are not supposed to charge people for residence permits (its an international fact), but the way they get around that is charging you 135 for the booklet that your residence permit comes in. Brillant! In any case i arrive back at the dorms a little tired and burnt out of being around people.

I'm sitting on the roof terrace listening to my ipod and playing around on my computer when a young Turkish student comes upstairs. I see him carrying the blind wand with him and he makes his way over towards me. Its deathly silent on the terrace excpet for the shrieking of gulls, the sound of ships horns, and the wind...its part of why i love the terrace. But i dont want to alarm the young man so i type loudly on my computer and clear my throat. He makes his way slowly over to my direction and i ask him if he would like a chair. He fumbles for the words and responds with repeating my word "chair". I jump up and pull one over for him, since the hordes of students passing through the terrace day to day tend to scatter the chairs. Anyway I pull one up for him and he sits in it. I sit across from him and start typing on my computer. He asks my name and i tell him, i ask his name and he replies. (names ommitted to protect the innocent). After a few awkward attempts at conversation we realize that i dont speak enough Turkish to communicate with him and he doesn't speak enough English to communicate with me.

At first i was stuck at this discovery, but it only worsened when i realized that since he was blind i couldn't even motion or use visual aid to him in order to get my point across. Even worse i had no internet access so i couldnt' directly translate on google! I didn't have my turkish english dictionary with me and he had nothing but his blind wand with him. We were suddenly two people stuck in a communication vaccuum.

What commenced was perhaps the best moment i have had in Turkey to date. The young man asked what i was studying and i tried to tell him "international studies" he didn't understand. "politics" he didn't understand. I started listing the European countries, "France, Germany, Spain" He understood "European studies?" I smiled and patted his hand so he could acknowledge my smile. I continued naming countries from around the world "Japan, America, Mexico." He smiled and nodded and patted my hand back, "World studies?" I said yes. I then proceeded to ask him about his studies but couldn't understand what he said other then "law".

He asked my age and i answerd "21". He gestured to himself, "me also." i asked him what year he was in school and he shook his head, not understanding. I drew four lines in his palm and retraced the fourth line, saying "fourth year." then i tapped his knee with two fingers "you?" He nodded and drew one line in my palm, "one year". I understood and let silence drift back over us.

The best connection came when i asked him about music. He immidiately understood what i meant and started listing off hip hop Turkish artists he liked. He lit up like a 100 watt bulb talking about music and how he played the organ and another Turkish instrument that i cannot pronounce. When he asked me what music i liked, he couldn't understand "Country music" so i turned on my itunes and started playing a few songs. We listened in silence for a few minutes and i tapped his hand since that signal had become synonymous with me smiling. He tapped my hand back and we continued to just listen to the music and all the little sounds. I noticed the traffic buzzing by on the busy streets below and the soft barking of dogs in far off neighborhoods, and i even noticed the sound of someone shaking the dust out of a rug on a balcony.

He tapped my leg, "i am leaving now, it was nice to have met you Jessi." Our hands akwardly bumped and he grasped my one in his two pressing our palms together in a friendly gesture. I used one of my few words of Turkish "gurusuruz." It means bye bye.

it was such a simple conversation but such a huge feat. Without technology, or a translator or even the benefit of a simple dictionary we were able to communicate in a language beyond words. There was nothing deep and meaningful said and we didn't discuss politics or come to an agreement on how best to solve the worlds most pressing issues but we communicated. and all without having very much in common at all, at least nothing in common that would help us communicate. I knew how to use sign language but he cannot see, he knew how to type in Turkish but i cannot read it.

Why cannot the world leaders be blindfolded, and others be muted and still others made to be deaf. Then they can be put in a room together and made to appreciate each other for their differences and learn to use those differences to build bridges. When you have to communicate but do not know how, you use your compassion, and you are more willing to compromise to reach the mutual goal. When that goal is something as simple as a conversation the effects still resonant in each individual...when that goal is something like World Hunger imagine the effects that could have!

That might be a little heavy, and a little bit of a dreamers perspective...but you have to start somewhere~

Ciao

Jessi

The Godfather

Hagia Sophia is a church turned mosque turned Museum, and when we stepped outside this morning that was our destination. We have gotten fairly effecient at getting on the tram, and getting off at the right location so that part of the day went on without a hitch. But as Bilbo Baggins once said, "it's dangerous buisness walking out your front door, You step onto the road and if you dont keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to"...but more on that later.
Hagia Sophia is in one word...enormous. Its nuts to think that they were able to build something so massive and so beautiful with its perfectly arched ceilings and marble stone floors, doors and walls. everything you see and touch feels ancient, unlike the archaelogy museum where everything in it is old, this whole place is old, every brick, every stone has hundreds of years worth of stories inside it.
I must have gone crazy with the pictures but i couldn't help it, there were murals of Mary and Jesus that looked like they had been painted yesterday and were still glittery. Some of the marble floors were so worn with wear that they were indented or bowed in. I must say my favorite part was the sultans box. Similar to a press box the sultan had a seperate box built above the masses where he could participate without touching the rabble below i guess. Our next stop was the Blue Mosque it was incredible, we took off our shoes and wrapped ourselves in shawls out of respect and entered the mosque. Once you get past the initial smell of feet and look up you will be amazed. Once again the high ceilings and the arches and the humbling sheer magnitude of this place just blew me away. I took a few pictures and spent a quiet 30 seconds and then we left. This is where it gets interesting. I was getting tired and hungry and grumpy and Sara mentioned that she wanted to go to some tea place and talk to someone about something.
Anyone who knows me knows that i'm easy going when traveling...if you want to do something fine, as long as i get to do my thing too, i'll go along with anything. So i just nod and follow her. She leads us to the tea cafe and asks for the boss. the waiter leads us to the carpet shop next door where the man takes us inside tells us to make oursleves at home and offers us tea. He says the man we are looking for is out praying and he will be back. As soon as he leaves Sara explains a little more about our situation. She is looking for a Tekke and the boss who is currently praying knows where to go. So we wait...and we wait...and we chat...and we wait...and i get grumpier and less social...and start to zone out and dream about ice cream. And an hour and a half goes by without any word on where this boss guys is. Prayer is long over and my stomach is not getting any less hungry. Just as we are devising a plan of escape (every time we try to leave they tell us to wait and offer us tea).
Two of the carpet workers bring in an older gentleman...the best way to describe him is as the godfather. he is wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit with shiny black shoes, his shirt has a starched white collar and he has silver rings on 4 of his fingers and the sweetest pair of shades i've seen in years. He walks up and starts talking to us slowly and cautiously. He asks us where we are from, comments on our friendship and explains the meaning of the Ottoman Symbol and he asks Sara "how many eyes do we have"and went on to explain we have 4 eyes, the two we see with then one on the forehead and one in the heart. This was starting to seem like an Indiana Jones movie combined with The Departed. Once he called for more tea i half expected him to introduce us to his sons and nephews and make us kiss his hand to show respect. But he kept talkin in his slow particular way and then told us about his car...i'll upload the picture
this is a 1937 car mind you in mint condition and smokin hot....he waves us outside to take a picture of it and i do. At this point i wish i could explain better how this went down but it was the most random awesome thing ever...because somehow he decided he likes us and makes us an offer we cannot refuse.
He drives us back to Taksim in his car, and i couldn't be more excited about this whole experiece and suddenly my stomach isn't so important.
The important thing to take away from this whole story...is that it is imperative that you listen to people. Everyone has a story to tell and everyone has something to say. This older gentleman we met has so much to say and i wanted to talk to him more about everything....there is so much i could glean from him just hearing him talk about anything he wants to while we drink tea. But that goes for alot of situations while you are abroad.
It is so much fun to tour the country with your friends and take pictures of the beautiful scenery, but once you find people and listen to what they have to say they can bring out a beauty in that culture that you can't see with your eyes no matter where you look.

Ciao!
Jessi

I'm sleeping in a Sarcophogus before i die

The Archaelogy Museum....Today was about Topkapi Palace and how badly i wanted to explore it...but as you will see dear reader, a pattern in my life here in Istanbul is that nothing goes according to plan and often I end up better off for it.
Sara, my partner in crime, set off at mid day (because i'm a sleepaholic) to see topkapi palace. Of course once we get off at the tram and walk to the location we learn it is closed on Tuesdays...Of course it is, why wouldnt' we know such an obvious peice of information! Nevermind my frustration we wander into the Archaeology museum after revealing ourselves as the American's we are by fumbling through the entrance kiosk and not realizing that all we must do to enter is swipe our freshly purchased museum "karts".
What follows once we enter is 4 hours of wandering further and further back in time (with a small hiccup at the 1970s with a staircase ) with Alexander the great, Constantine, Troy and bits and peices of Temples, and ship wrecks. History is alive through Archaelogy, that much is completely clear. I actually got to rest my eyes on Alexander's Sarcophogus...which interestingly enough is not thought to be the final resting place of Alexander the Great but is still called that. I refuse to believe the experts on this and have fallen in love with the Ornate Marble creation and during a small break Sara and i take to recuperate and breath the fresh air outside i mention that i would like to sleep in Alexander's Sarcophogus....which of course might sound creepy to some, but this is why i enjoy Sara so very much...she never seems suprised at the many ridiculous things that i tend to say.
A delightful addition to the day was when i picked up a new word...wee...not referring to the new video game control system...but as in the scottish term used in Braveheart. Sara is bringing it back with a vengence and i have jumped on board. We wander more through the museum looking at the artifacts in awe...at least on my part, because it seems so historically contemporary. and i now what a contradictory oxymoron that is, but this is why i was so fascinated. There were plates and dishes and (what Sara and i thought could be crack pipes) pots and pans, and toys for the kids. It was as if they lived two weeks ago. The things that last throughout the ages are the things that people used every day. Except of course for the sarcophogi, and the giant statues of Gods.
I find a stroll through the Archaeology museum turned into a stoll through history itself, and i can imagine having a conversation with Alexander the great right next to the bust of his head and he would be all bashful and tell me how it wasn't a great likeness and pretend false modesty. then he would show me around to the great stone carved pictures of his battles and regale me with bloody stories with pride and excitement. That is how it feels to be in the Museum in Istanbul. there are not a lot of glass walls and security guards seperating you from history. Its right in your face and you can touch it (though you aren't supposed to).
Incredible in one word...and exhausting in another...my day ended in a raging headache and me in bed by 9.
Hopefully history wont give me such a hangover next time
xox
Jessi

He restores my soul...

A German, A Swede, A Scot, and An American go for a walk one crisp September morning....
The story that follows is proof positive that all you need to have an adventure is an open mind, an open spirit, and 3TL (Turkish Lira).
Maja (Swedish) Sophie (Scottish) Max (German) and I (American in case you didnt' know) decided to go to the Prince's Island off the coast of Istanbul. So we hop on a ferry and get our butts in motion. Its 9 in the morning and thanks to mosquitoes we all are suffering from a lack of sleep, but we pull it together and try to find our way around. A kind man helps us find the Ferry station and we thank him in our new found Turkish. We all are in the same Turkish 101 class together so combined we are the Turkish Lnguage equivalent of a two year old, possibly an advanced 1 year old.
We get on the ferry and embark on a 45 minute journey to the islands. Every moment is picturesqe, from the soft lapping of the waves against the ferry to the sea gulls gliding at eye level with wings spreak wide. The coastal region of Turkey is nothing but buildings and hills with tall towers in the distance. I cannot wait to explore the Asian side of turkey.
We arrive at Island nunmber 1 but do not get off because at this point we are relying completely on instinct which is a good percentage of adventurism as i'm beginning to learn. You have to just go with the flow otherwise you will stress yourself into a pool of fear on the floor, and everyone will step on you. At Island number 2 we get a strangely peaceful vibe and we jump off and stroll onto the shore. At this point we are obviously in tune with each other because no one complains or stalls we all just look at each other and make decisions.
We stop at a cafe and get coffee and food to warm up as it has started drizzling a little. Once it lets up we begin to explore. We set off down a road not knowing where it leads or what we will do when we find any destination. We just walk, and talk and enjoy the magnificent scenery. If you have ever seen something that makes you stop breathing all together...this was that experience. The water was deep blue and the shore was rocky and steep in most places, but there were beaches with sea shells.
We finally hike down an incredibly steep path to get to a beach where we stop talking and just sit, and soak in the moments. There is not another person in sight of us as we sit on the beach, picking sea shells and listening to the tide rolling up at our feet. It's what i would imagine nirvana to be like, if nirvana was something i believed in at all. Maja and i agree that the peace is what we have been missing in Istanbul where quiet is never an option.
Here there are no cars, unless you are in a casket then they take you to the graveyard in one. Only horses with buggies exist, and bikes. It seems to be set in a different time. The pace is slow, the people all know each other and smile kindly as you walk past. They dont bother you because the understand that quiet is unexplainably essential to those who come to this particular island.
Maja then begins talking about her home in Sweden and how she doesn't think she will live there for any extended period of time. Sophie says she doesn't know where she will live though she would like to spend an extended stay in the Middle East.
I, feeling particularly silly, decided to be honest and mention that i have every desire to travel the world and experience it all, but not a whole lot of enthusiasm for the idea of living abroad for any extreme length of time. Let me be perfectly clear- Its not because i'm fearful or Zenophobic. Au contraire...I love international studies and living abroad is probably the most exhilirating and alive i've felt in awhile. I love Istanbul, i probably wont want to leave when the time comes, i'm already dreading the plane ride back home...but i I love America, and not in a red neck conservative nationalist way. I simply love it, just because of all that it is, all that it isn't, and all that it has the potential to be. It's mine.
anyways coming back to our little story. We explore longer and ask ourselves the deep questions in life such as "what is one thing you would change about the world?" and "who in history would you want to spend a few hours talking and getting to know" and "what kind of animal would you be?" We pondered the meaning of evangelicalism while waiting for our return ferry. I wouldn't say we mingled with the Turkish culture so much today, we still explored it as outsiders looking in, but in the process we found peace...inner and outer peace. Isn't it odd how when you go out not looking for anything at all...you find what you most need?
In Istanbul you find a collective chaos that gives energy but at the end of the day if you aren't used to it, it can drain you. On the islands we found replenishment in the slow easy way the Turks lived their lives there surrounded by beauty and stillness. truly he leadeth me beside still waters!

Bye Bye!