At least that’s what I thought before I started writing.
Today I read TimeOut Istanbul for the first time since I arrived. I was struck by how incongruous my lived experience here is from the glossy magazine version – or the hefty travel guides I brought with me. Not to say that I haven’t been to my fair share of trendy tourist spots that label themselves as cafés in lieu of kave or çai baçesi thus far. Still the most salient features are those that comprise my everyday existence.
Sitting on the couch reading a magazine and eating microwaved leftovers, I was struck by the lack of interesting facts I had to share. My weekend was spent at a teacher’s conference, which was followed by drinks at a bar called Beer City. (I know, how exotic and authentic.)
My Sunday was spent going out to brunch, grocery shopping, cleaning my apartment, and preparing large pot of lentils so I wouldn’t have to cook later in the week. Not too different than a Sunday in the states.
Needless to say, my experience here is different - albeit hard to pinpoint at times. I tried to extract all the things that distinguish my life here from my life back home. I came up with a semi-satisfactory list that may seem trite and unworthy of a blog entry, but these comprise some of my day to day activities that make up my “real” life, which now feels oh so distant from my past one.
I order my water: I call nestle and give them my address. They deliver a huge water cooler type jug for the equivalent of about five dollars. It is brought straight to my door and I exchange my empty one for the full. In theory, there is nothing wrong with the water here (it is the pipes that are old and rusty) but of course I am unwilling to take my chances. This may not seem like a big deal, but placing an order in Turkish always seems slightly monumental.
· I go to the store nearly everyday. My day doesn’t seem complete without spending a bit of time wandering around my neighborhood. Perhaps it is out of loneliness that I get a thrill out of seeing familiar faces – and being recognized by people I can’t exactly call friends. Maybe it is practical, since although there are massive U.S. style supermarkets that sell anything and everything, the bazaars are still the best place for fruit, the bakaals are the place to shop for odds and ends, and I certainly wouldn’t go anywhere but the many bakeries for fresh desserts and breads. Maybe it is merely egoism for me to go places where I am known. Or maybe it just reminds me that this is my home and there are human landmarks that indicate time has passed and I have progressed since my first days here.
· I watch a lot of television. The shows that I found mildly amusing back home- Heroes, Desperate Housewives, Ghost Whisperer – but could never seem to get into like the rest of the country suddenly hook me the way fishermen along the Bosphorus casting their lines pick up smelts. It is somehow satisfying to vegetate in front of familiar accents. I am aware that there are better things to do, but it just doesn’t seem like it. (Did I just admit to watching Ghost Whisperer?)
· I spend a lot of time alone. My nights are generally quiet, and those whom I speak to regularly are generally people whom I have yet to forge deep connections with. I still don’t have internet access at home and therefore I can’t connect in my off hours. In my 4-5 hours between Turkish lessons or the gym and sleep, I have mostly my thoughts to keep me company. There is simply not as much to keep up with. The majority of my power and water bills are paid by my school, and there is no press one to speak to an operator that I have to deal with (not that it doesn’t exist – I just don’t speak Turkish).
· Random occurrences are normal. Generally, I am in the know about what is happening in my surroundings, but here I don’t seem to figure things out until after the fact. I didn’t understand all the rituals surrounding Ramazan until a few weeks into into it. Tonight a group of students was marching through my neighborhood with Turkish flags chanting something that I assume is related to the conflict with the Kurds in the Southeast. It is these sort of things that strike me the most, things I try to investigate but always seem to bump up against a wall.