Last you heard, I was on my way to a seemingly boring day in an interesting place. Here's the rest of it.
After I left the Internet cafe, I wandered around the city a bit. The plan was to visit the zoo, which seemed like an interesting place to see. One of the things I realised very quickly is that almost no one speaks English. Usually I'm not the kind of person to go to a country and not try to learn a few basic words and phrases first, but as you know, this trip was quite different. My mission was to find out how to use the public transportation to get to the zoo. One thing that I've realised is that the languages we speak are only a part of how we communicate. I got to put this to the test. The word "zoo", fortunately, seems to have made it into the lexus of many languages, so that was easy. Here was a typical conversation:
Me: (big friendly smile)
Sofian[that being someone from Sofia, not an actual name]:(smile back)
M: (still smiling) Do you speak English? (using that higher-than-normal pitched, friendly voice that we all seem to use when talking to strangers politely)
S: (shaking head) No (in this dialogue, italics mean it was in Bulgarian)
M: (undaunted and still smiling) Zoo? (pointing in many directions and shrugging shoulders using body language to ask the way)
S: (nodding vigorously and with a spark of understanding in eyes) Zoo! (then shaking head sadly) Very far!
At this point I must add some commentary. I didn't realise until then that there was obvious body language for "Very far". There is. It was extremely clear that that was what the person was saying although it was in Bulgarian. I dunno if it was the slump of the shoulders, the raising of the eyebrows, or the hand motioning in repeated air circles radiating away from the body in a clockwise direction, but it was all very obvious.
M: (mirroring sad look and spark of understanding) Ok. (then smiling) Thank you
S: (smiling) You're welcome.
I had this exact conversation with about 5 people before deciding that the zoo was too far to reach and I wouldn't be visiting it that day. Probably all for the better because I soon realised that the wather that seemed cold at 6 a.m. wasn't warming up. So I wandered around. I found a guy who sold maps of Sofia. He spoke about 4 words of English and was really excited about being able to practice them on me. Of course, they were interspersed with a liberal sprinkling of Bulgarian so it was puzzling at best. He invited me to sit with him at his newsstand and chat. I had nothing better to do, since the zoo thing was off the schedule. So we chatted for about 10 minutes about life the universe and everything, or at least I think we did... like I said, most of it was in Bulgarian. At the end of the conversation he told me that he had maps in Swedish Russian and Greek, but none in English. I decided to try my luck elsewhere rather than paying for a map that I couldn't read. It was hard enough deciphering the street signs from cyrillic script. To then try to work it out on a swedish map was a little too much for me.
Eventually I found a map. It cost 2 leva (or what I called "Bulgarian things" in my head for the whole trip). Yes, I found out the name of the currency. It's exchange is about 1.25 to 1 for the New Turkish Lira (which is one to one million old Turkish Lira), and the New Turkish Lira is 1.65 to one Euro or 1.35 to one dollar.... So that means 1 Bulgarian Leva is worth....??? Exactly! I had no clue either. I called them Bulgarian things, changed 30 Euro at the border, and hoped it would be enough! Basically, when it came to food, I looked at the price and decided if it sounded like a decent amount of money to pay. A big slice of pizza for 1 Leva? Excellent! A sandwich for 5 Leva? I don't think so! See! No conversion required :o)
Soo I window shopped, and took in the sights of Sofia. At one point I bought some postcards (they were quite expensive - I wouldn't imagine paying more than 0.25 - 0.50 whatevers for a postcard, but these were about 0.75 Levas) in a 5 star hotel. I figured I needed to sit for a while, and I might as well be comfortable, and I wasn't buying a pen to write the postcards... So I went into this really nice hotel, asked the receptionist for a pen, bought the postcards in the gift shop, and sat in the lobby for an hour (writing postcards for 10 minutes, staring out the window for the other 50). It was nice. I then went on a search for the post office to buy stamps.
This post is too long. I'm posting.
...to be continued...
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Sofia
So, at 3 in the afternoon yesterday, I decided to take advantage of 3 days off and take a trip. I packed my backpack (realising later that I had forgotten essentials like toothbrush and underwear) and headed to Kadikoy. I found a bus to Sofia Bulgaria that was leaving at 8:30 p.m. When I called, they said there was no shuttle from Kadikoy to the main bus station, but when I turned up for my ticket, I asked again and they obliged. I went to Kadikoy to buy said forgotten items and got back to the bus station at 4:30, in time to get a little service bus that took me to some way out place, where I was put on a bus that had come from Ankara, and about an hour later, I was in Esenler, with 2 hours to spare.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty spontaneous person. However, this time it was a new level of spontaneity. When I reached the border at around 11 p.m., I went to the currency exchange place. It was at that point that I realised that I didn't even know what currency they used in Bulgaria, and since everything was written in cyrrillic script, the signs were no help either. Anyway, I changed 50 Euros and got 96 Bulgarian Whatevers and got my passport stamped and got back on the bus. I also realised at about that point that I had no idea when the bus would arrive in Sofia. I knew that there were a number of stops in Bulgarian cities, and Sofia was the last one, being on the far side of the country, but that's about it. In fact all I really knew about Bulgaria was that Sofia is the capital and the word "Restaurant" looks like "PECTOPAHT" - this last piece of information I gleaned from the big signs above the places with chairs and tables that served food by the side of the road. For the next few hours, between naps, I looked at street signs and tried to become literate. By the time I reached Sofia at quarter to 6 in the morning, I was semi-literate. Started to figure out vowels and consonants, and which sound the same as English and which are different, and which ones are just strange to me... e.g the "L" sound is made by something that looks like the Greek Pi but with a backwards hook on the left leg. The regular Pi is a P, X sounds like the english letter H, the D sound is made by a weird-looking boxy letter with squggles at the bottom. The backwards N, similar to the one in Hebrew that is the generic vowel with the same range as the English phoneme schwa, makes the I sound. S,T,A and many others are the same.... Anyway the substitution game is kinda like doing a cryptogram puzzle. The trick is remembering the ones you're not sure of and checking them in words you can figure out.
So I arrived at the Sofia bus station at quarter to 6. I had a cup of coffee and a sandwich while working up the nerve to figure out where to go and what to do.I finally went downstairs and asked directions on how to walk to the city centre. According to the woman it was a 10 minute walk. I know I walk slowly but... it was more like 40 minutes. The walk did me good though, after all those hours cooped up in the bus seat. So I got to the centre of Sofia and started looking for an internet cafe. I think it would probably be a good idea to take a look online and see what there is to do here.
There's something about walking through a city in the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise. It's like seeing a beautiful woman in the morning before she puts on her makeup. I kind of got an idea of the potential the city had, and what it might look like in the full light of day, but there was something fresh and raw about it as well. Pretty cool.
So I found this place. After walking for about an hour and asking at a bunch of different places (with no helpful answers) I saw this sign, and was able to read the word "internet" despite the unfamiliar characters in it. It helps that the place is called [SITE] as well. Then I followed the signs down a narrow alley past a tattoo and piercing place, into an old building, up to the first floor and in a big steel door. What I found was a sweet old woman and her teenage son in this place with funky music, wooden floorboards, and multicoloured walls. It's obviously a 3-bedroom apartment that has been converted into a nice, airy internet cafe with flat screen monitors, cameras and the works. Very nice.
One of the reasons I wanted to live in Europe was that there is access to so many places. There are a lot of different cities and countries within a few hours' bus ride. So here I am, in Sofia, waiting for the world to wake up and join me here :)
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty spontaneous person. However, this time it was a new level of spontaneity. When I reached the border at around 11 p.m., I went to the currency exchange place. It was at that point that I realised that I didn't even know what currency they used in Bulgaria, and since everything was written in cyrrillic script, the signs were no help either. Anyway, I changed 50 Euros and got 96 Bulgarian Whatevers and got my passport stamped and got back on the bus. I also realised at about that point that I had no idea when the bus would arrive in Sofia. I knew that there were a number of stops in Bulgarian cities, and Sofia was the last one, being on the far side of the country, but that's about it. In fact all I really knew about Bulgaria was that Sofia is the capital and the word "Restaurant" looks like "PECTOPAHT" - this last piece of information I gleaned from the big signs above the places with chairs and tables that served food by the side of the road. For the next few hours, between naps, I looked at street signs and tried to become literate. By the time I reached Sofia at quarter to 6 in the morning, I was semi-literate. Started to figure out vowels and consonants, and which sound the same as English and which are different, and which ones are just strange to me... e.g the "L" sound is made by something that looks like the Greek Pi but with a backwards hook on the left leg. The regular Pi is a P, X sounds like the english letter H, the D sound is made by a weird-looking boxy letter with squggles at the bottom. The backwards N, similar to the one in Hebrew that is the generic vowel with the same range as the English phoneme schwa, makes the I sound. S,T,A and many others are the same.... Anyway the substitution game is kinda like doing a cryptogram puzzle. The trick is remembering the ones you're not sure of and checking them in words you can figure out.
So I arrived at the Sofia bus station at quarter to 6. I had a cup of coffee and a sandwich while working up the nerve to figure out where to go and what to do.I finally went downstairs and asked directions on how to walk to the city centre. According to the woman it was a 10 minute walk. I know I walk slowly but... it was more like 40 minutes. The walk did me good though, after all those hours cooped up in the bus seat. So I got to the centre of Sofia and started looking for an internet cafe. I think it would probably be a good idea to take a look online and see what there is to do here.
There's something about walking through a city in the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise. It's like seeing a beautiful woman in the morning before she puts on her makeup. I kind of got an idea of the potential the city had, and what it might look like in the full light of day, but there was something fresh and raw about it as well. Pretty cool.
So I found this place. After walking for about an hour and asking at a bunch of different places (with no helpful answers) I saw this sign, and was able to read the word "internet" despite the unfamiliar characters in it. It helps that the place is called [SITE] as well. Then I followed the signs down a narrow alley past a tattoo and piercing place, into an old building, up to the first floor and in a big steel door. What I found was a sweet old woman and her teenage son in this place with funky music, wooden floorboards, and multicoloured walls. It's obviously a 3-bedroom apartment that has been converted into a nice, airy internet cafe with flat screen monitors, cameras and the works. Very nice.
One of the reasons I wanted to live in Europe was that there is access to so many places. There are a lot of different cities and countries within a few hours' bus ride. So here I am, in Sofia, waiting for the world to wake up and join me here :)
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Racing Garbage Cart Men
You may remember a few months ago I posted a blog about garbage cart men. I would put a link here, but that's too much work and I don't feel like it. Check the archives if you really want to read it. My friend Dustin, a fellow teacher, also blogged recently about the eskicis and recylcle-cis that wander around trawling the dumpsters for various items.
I alos mentioned that one group of men (dubbed "recycle-cis" by me and pronounced "recycle-jeez" in English) have dolly-like trolleys with huge canvas one-ton sugar bags that they fill with either cardboard, plastic, cans or glass by going therough the dumpsters. Istanbulites (is that the word? Istanbullians, Istanbullers....? Istanbullies!!!!) don't have any individual recycling programme, where you put your garbage in separate bags. However, one cannot say that Istanbul doesn't recycle. Judging by the number of these guys one can see in any given neighbourhood on any given day, I would guess that Istanbul probably recycles more stuff than any city I've ever lived in. I'm pretty sure almost every piece of glass, plastic, metal and paper that can be recycled is enthusiastically collected by these guys. They all seem to know the schedule for garbage collection (if one actually exists) or maybe they set it! I guarantee that within minutes of the recycle-cis leaving your neighbourhood, the garbage truck will show up. They're magical!
Anyway, what really inspired me to write this blog was that the other night while walking home along Hasanpasha street, two recycle-cis ran past at lightning speed with theur trolleys in tow. It looked like some kind of old-fashioned night-time chariot race... It was so hilarious! But maybe you had to be there....
It's still Ramazan.
I alos mentioned that one group of men (dubbed "recycle-cis" by me and pronounced "recycle-jeez" in English) have dolly-like trolleys with huge canvas one-ton sugar bags that they fill with either cardboard, plastic, cans or glass by going therough the dumpsters. Istanbulites (is that the word? Istanbullians, Istanbullers....? Istanbullies!!!!) don't have any individual recycling programme, where you put your garbage in separate bags. However, one cannot say that Istanbul doesn't recycle. Judging by the number of these guys one can see in any given neighbourhood on any given day, I would guess that Istanbul probably recycles more stuff than any city I've ever lived in. I'm pretty sure almost every piece of glass, plastic, metal and paper that can be recycled is enthusiastically collected by these guys. They all seem to know the schedule for garbage collection (if one actually exists) or maybe they set it! I guarantee that within minutes of the recycle-cis leaving your neighbourhood, the garbage truck will show up. They're magical!
Anyway, what really inspired me to write this blog was that the other night while walking home along Hasanpasha street, two recycle-cis ran past at lightning speed with theur trolleys in tow. It looked like some kind of old-fashioned night-time chariot race... It was so hilarious! But maybe you had to be there....
It's still Ramazan.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
First Day of Ramazan
Today was the first day of Ramazan (known in many other places as Ramadan), the Muslim month of fasting. As you may know, Turkey is known for not being a Shi'ih Muslim country. The population here is is 98% Sunni Muslim, and the majority of them aren't really practicing. Among the many changes Ataturk made (including changing the script from Arabic to Latin in one fell swoop), the secularisation of the country was among the biggest. This means that Islam is the religion of the majority, yes, but it is not technically an Islamic country, in that there is a separation of religion and government.
After having spent 3 Ramadans in Israel (and 2 Pesachs as well), and having my favourite Arab-Muslim run felafel stands and hummus places closed for a month during ramadan, and not being able to buy bread, pasta and various other non-kosher-for-pesach products for a month, I got used to the idea of the various fasts not only being carried out by the adherents of the religion, but spilling out onto other people as well. It was kinda nice, I thought. I think most of my sympathy for the plight of fasting restaurant workers comes from the fact that in March, during the Baha'i Fast, while I was growing up, I was one of maybe 2 or 3 students in my school of 500 who were fasting at that time, and had to sit there in the lunch quadrangle at the lunch bench with all my friends and fellow students while they ate. I wasn't allowed to not be around the food. I guess it's not hard enough for a 15-year old to not be eating from sunrise to sundown - the added test of sitting there while one's friends try to tempt you into breaking the Fast by waving food in front of your face builds character, I guess.
Anyway, back to Istanbul. So because of the large Muslim population, in theory, the whole city is on the whole Ramazan thing. However, because so many of the people here are not practicing, in reality, all the restaurants are still open, everything is still available, people still smoke absolutely everywhere and it seems to be a lot of Ramazan lip-service... kind of an excuse to have a BIG dinner at sunset....
I met Sema to go to the hotel to check out the sound system and to make sure we would have everyhting we needed for the wedding on Saturday. After our hotel visit, we went for something to eat at a restaurant. The hotel was on a street that was barricaded off and closed to vehicular traffic and marked with a huge arch-shaped sign at the entrance with a name that translates loosely as "Istanbul Ramazan Village". On this street there are lots of shops and restaurants. At 6 p.m., about 50 minutes before sunset, we sat out on the sidewalk in Ramazan village and had a bowl of lentil soup. It seemed a bit weird to me.... but apparently it wasn't.
After that, I was feeling a little bit down about the whole Istanbul Ramazan situation - I mean, shouldn't people be at least trying to support the people who are fasting, and make life easier for them?
So I got on my bus at 6:30 and headed home, feeling a bit disappointed with the first day of Ramazan. While we sat in traffic with the regular irate Istanbul drivers, the call to prayer sounded. The ticket-collecting guy (a strange, redundant job, since right next to him sits the automatic ticket machine that takes your tickets for you - but that will be in another blog) got up and walked around with a package of dates offering one to everyone on the bus. Some took them, some politely declined, me included, because I'm not fasting. But it brought a smile to my face. As I looked around in the bumper to bumper traffic, I saw people in service buses (the private shuttles that take commuters to and from work all over Istanbul) being offered tea, fruit, and sometimes sandwiches. On other city buses, passengers were being offered a variety of things. It made me smile. There's Ramazan! The ticket guy got off the bus a few minutes later with his pack of cigarettes to go get his nicotine fix. The traffic was bad enough that he was able to smoke and walk alongside the bus without a problem, and a couple of other passengers joined him - others who had taken dates.
Anyway, there it was. The first day of Ramazan in Istanbul.
After having spent 3 Ramadans in Israel (and 2 Pesachs as well), and having my favourite Arab-Muslim run felafel stands and hummus places closed for a month during ramadan, and not being able to buy bread, pasta and various other non-kosher-for-pesach products for a month, I got used to the idea of the various fasts not only being carried out by the adherents of the religion, but spilling out onto other people as well. It was kinda nice, I thought. I think most of my sympathy for the plight of fasting restaurant workers comes from the fact that in March, during the Baha'i Fast, while I was growing up, I was one of maybe 2 or 3 students in my school of 500 who were fasting at that time, and had to sit there in the lunch quadrangle at the lunch bench with all my friends and fellow students while they ate. I wasn't allowed to not be around the food. I guess it's not hard enough for a 15-year old to not be eating from sunrise to sundown - the added test of sitting there while one's friends try to tempt you into breaking the Fast by waving food in front of your face builds character, I guess.
Anyway, back to Istanbul. So because of the large Muslim population, in theory, the whole city is on the whole Ramazan thing. However, because so many of the people here are not practicing, in reality, all the restaurants are still open, everything is still available, people still smoke absolutely everywhere and it seems to be a lot of Ramazan lip-service... kind of an excuse to have a BIG dinner at sunset....
I met Sema to go to the hotel to check out the sound system and to make sure we would have everyhting we needed for the wedding on Saturday. After our hotel visit, we went for something to eat at a restaurant. The hotel was on a street that was barricaded off and closed to vehicular traffic and marked with a huge arch-shaped sign at the entrance with a name that translates loosely as "Istanbul Ramazan Village". On this street there are lots of shops and restaurants. At 6 p.m., about 50 minutes before sunset, we sat out on the sidewalk in Ramazan village and had a bowl of lentil soup. It seemed a bit weird to me.... but apparently it wasn't.
After that, I was feeling a little bit down about the whole Istanbul Ramazan situation - I mean, shouldn't people be at least trying to support the people who are fasting, and make life easier for them?
So I got on my bus at 6:30 and headed home, feeling a bit disappointed with the first day of Ramazan. While we sat in traffic with the regular irate Istanbul drivers, the call to prayer sounded. The ticket-collecting guy (a strange, redundant job, since right next to him sits the automatic ticket machine that takes your tickets for you - but that will be in another blog) got up and walked around with a package of dates offering one to everyone on the bus. Some took them, some politely declined, me included, because I'm not fasting. But it brought a smile to my face. As I looked around in the bumper to bumper traffic, I saw people in service buses (the private shuttles that take commuters to and from work all over Istanbul) being offered tea, fruit, and sometimes sandwiches. On other city buses, passengers were being offered a variety of things. It made me smile. There's Ramazan! The ticket guy got off the bus a few minutes later with his pack of cigarettes to go get his nicotine fix. The traffic was bad enough that he was able to smoke and walk alongside the bus without a problem, and a couple of other passengers joined him - others who had taken dates.
Anyway, there it was. The first day of Ramazan in Istanbul.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Teaching English
Wow. I just came from my last class with my elementary students. It is amazing how well they are doing! I am so proud of them. Something about teaching ESL makes all of us feel almost maternal towards our students. There's something even more special about teaching a group from beginner. They walked in 5 months ago not being able to express simple concepts in English. This afternoon I had them doing a conversation exercise and they were saying things like, "Murat's not here. He's gone to work." Dude!!!! So cool! Next week they have their final exam and in 2 weeks they will be pre-intermediate. Fortunately, I will continue teaching them through the next level. I know the day will come when I will no longer be teaching them. In fact after having them for 3 levels, the policy is that someone else has to teach them. It reminds me a lot of working in the greenhouse. You go out and collect all these cuttings of plants and they're there with no roots. You give them the stuff they need and then one day you look and they have roots! It's not like you gave them roots, they grew them on their own, but you helped them do it, and it's really cool to see them go out into the garden and grow there......
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