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