After a month in Istanbul, this is what we look like...

Actually, this fine drawing comes to us courtesy of a neighbor, eight year-old Alican. The son of a co-worker, Alican (pronounced like "Ali John", since the letter c in Turkish makes the "j" sound) is a bright and very friendly boy. And pretty talented, too: not only does he like to draw (Indiana Jones is a favorite), he also plays the violin and is an avid chess player.

His sketch above reminds us of the following cartoon from The New Yorker, called "Portrait"—although Alican's artistry obviously outshines little Billy's, by far:

"Mrs. Hammond! I'd know you anywhere from little Billy's portrait of you."

Below is an animated version of that New Yorker cartoon. And who knows? Maybe one day Alican's artistic talents will lead him into animation, too. Disney and Pixar, watch out!

Thanks a lot, Alican, for a really nice drawing of us!

Dealing with kids who aren't yet ready to learn

While this blog is mostly filled with positive stuff, occasionally the less-than-rosy aspects of adjusting to a new culture need to be noted. That said, I hope I don't sound like a whiner here, but I've experienced some difficulties with younger Turkish kids in the classroom—namely, with trying to keep them in their seats and keep their attention for more than a couple of minutes.

This has proved especially true for many kids in the first grade, who apparently aren't yet ready to put down their crayons once in a while and pick up a pencil, and actually do a bit of work. I never thought of myself as a rigid, slave-driving sort of teacher, and I've certainly heaped mountains of praise onto the students for correctly identifying, say, Colin the caterpillar (who has a lead role in one of their textbooks) or several colors. But of course they all had learned, last year in kindergarten, how to identify—and say in English—the colors blue, red, purple and yellow. So for these first few weeks of the school year I've somewhat helplessly stood by and watched them review all this stuff from kindergarten ("all this stuff" amounting to perhaps a dozen words in English, tops), and watching them happily color in their work books, and ... well, not much else, actually.

Don't get me wrong: quite a few of them are indeed ready, and are very enthusiastic and "serious" about learning (if you can actually use that adjective to describe some very cute five year-olds). It's just that the others' inability or unwillingness to even try to learn seems to contaminate the whole classroom, and before you know it, utter chaos has unfolded—to the point where I, the teacher, feel utterly helpless. And, yes, actually and utterly invisible. A weird, unsettling feeling, to be sure.

Perhaps a lot of the problem stems from me being a non-speaker of Turkish. Every day, it seems, some of these young children will approach me and just start speaking away (in Turkish, of course), entirely unaware that I haven't the faintest idea what they're saying. And I'm sure when I speak to them, even though I'm giving instructions in very simple English (and often acting them out, if possible), they, too, must have a hard time figuring out what I'm trying to get across. But that may not be the entire explanation. Part of it may just be cultural differences, of which I may have very little "control" over, after all.

But hopefully things will improve soon, for all the students' sake, of course. Already I think the school administration is reconsidering the wisdom of assigning a non-Turkish speaker to teach such young kids, who have very limited language skills. And it looks like I'll get to spend some more time teaching the few native English speaking kids at our school—which will, at least for me, turn out to be quite a silver lining.

Regarding the photo: Sure they're cute, but...Also, Nesterin & Ipek (in the background) have provided lots of free counseling.

Book recommendation

I just started The Yogurt Man Cometh by Kevin Revolinski. Definitely recommended. Although it's quite funny, it's also a detailed and entertaining glimpse into the life of a teacher in Ankara. I've just read the 2nd chapter which details the bureaucracy involved in fulfilling the Department of Education's requirements for classroom teachers--a daily chore replete with lesson plans and signatures. You might enjoy it, too, if you wish to gain some insight into what Marc is going through!

This is not Istanbul!

We took this photo in Brooklyn a few summers ago. It's someone's artwork, plastered up on a wall. Our next door neighbor, here in Istanbul, said to put it on our blog...so we did!

Istek School Uniforms

We have three delightful children who go to school with us each morning & ride the bus home with us each night. (L to R) Alican (8), Martha (9) and Malti (6) are co-workers' children. Bright, multilingual and SOOOO energetic (I call them the Energy 3 superheroes), they always put a smile on our faces at 7:35 a.m.

Our ship came in!

Well, we thought we'd get our shipment from Abu Dhabi via truck...but apparently they put it on a slow boat to China! It got here, one month late, so we cannot recommend Abu Dhabi Shipping Agency (ADSA) as they had two opportunities this summer & blew them both.

But as you can see we got all 30 boxes and Marc & Alican (8 year old neighbor from upstairs) oversaw the delivery (and opened a few to see what exciting things they'd find), now the apartment is full of cardboard & for the next few days (weeks?) you'll see us wondering around looking for things we didn't know we had!

It is nice to have our things around us. I made a quilt I call My Mother's Garden, and that will look so nice on our kitchen wall! Those items make it feel like home...a real delight because my afternoon consisted of getting on the wrong dolmuş (bus), but the driver let me off about 10' later, then getting lost in a neighborhood I'd been in before, looking for a bookstore I'd been to before (had to call to be rescued). Then not knowing how to say "stop" to get the bus to stop near home. I stood up & said "Stop!" and the kind man next to me translated it... Whew! So, yes, it's a lot of "stuff" but it makes this apartment home sweet home--perhaps one of the reasons Marc & I like to be home so much--no matter where we are!

Exercise in Istanbul

Well, it seems to be universal.
Unless you're a manual laborer, you've got to exercise. I keep moving hoping to find out I don't have to do pilates, tai bo, the treadmill, or walk, but don't have the answer I want yet.

So we've joined a gym & went to pilates tonight. We're learning some interesting vocabulary! For example we can count to eight (maybe) and definitely learned the word for "squeeze." Or perhaps she was saying "loser?" Anyway, it's a 5 minute walk from our apartment, so hard to make up excuses for not going.

Want more blog? You got it!

We have over 200 items in our textile collection (and pride ourselves on buying most in the country where they're made), but have never gotten around to putting the photos online. After many requests, we're going to do it via Photoblog; it's here, or click on the second textiles link to the left. (Not sure why the first blog link isn't working correctly.) Thanks for visiting!

Experimental Soundscapes Smorgasbord

We just ventured into Europe again (that still seems a pretty weird notion: crossing into another continent so quickly and effortlessly), this time to enjoy something towards the other end of the cultural or entertainment spectrum.

Along with a few of our new colleagues and friends, Julie and Alex, we hopped on a dolmuş (public/shared minibus, 5.50 lira, about 30 minutes) to Taksim square, then walked down the fashionable and largely pedestrianized Istiklal Caddesi, in the lively Beyoğlu district.

Just off of Istiklal, down an twisty, cobble-stone alley, is the non-profit, community-owned performance space garajistanbul, which apparently is used for all kinds of performing arts (theater, music, dance, etc.), mostly of the experimental or avant-garde variety. (Its website, if you have a moment, is well worth a visit.) To our surprise, the space itself is actually modern and spacious, big enough to hold well over a hundred (standing) people—although fewer than 50 were on hand last night, everyone being able to sit on the cushioned raised platform (IKEA pillows, what else?!) on either side of the longish hall.

The experimental music program on offer was called SOUNDS-ALL-AROUND, which was billed as an evening of "electro-acoustic music." Performed by a group of several young Swedes, from the Institutet För Digitala Konstarter, or IDKA (Per Samuelsson, Thomas Bjelkeborn, Iréne Sahlin), the Frenchman Philippe Moenne-Loccoz, and a local artist, Koray Tahıroğlu, it was actually far more electronic than acoustic. Each performer took turns and "played" a Mac laptop, mixing and manipulating recorded sounds—some easily recognizable (voices, sounds of nature, gunfire), and some that were clearly computer-generated (pops, clicks, thuds, thunderous booms). The last piece of the evening, the only to be performed by a duo, included a flat metal disk (it turned out to simply be a cooking pot lid!) spun by hand on a table, with a bent paperclip and beer bottle cap pressed and scraped against it—and a small, lapel microphone held up close to capture the sounds created by such common materials.

Not music, per se, but still undeniably interesting and engaging—at times quirky, compelling, multi-layered and even beautiful (think Philip Glass, John Cage, Karlheinz Stockhausen), at other times somewhat jarring, even bordering on the irritating. But a fair amount of variety and innovation, all in all, and in the end a pretty rewarding experience.

So if you ever find yourself in Beyoğlu with no particular evening plans, and perhaps are in the need for something different, you may just want to check out garajistanbul to see what may be going on. It could lead to something surprising and worthwhile.


If you'd like to read another audience member's reaction to the concert, please go to the blog eccentriCity (and a big thanks to eccentriCity for the photo collage above).

Basketball à la mode

Yesterday after work we went with some colleagues to the European side of town, to see a basketball game between Turkey and France. (Free tix for us, it turned out, courtesy of our school, ISTEK; photo & video are courtesy of our friend, Arnaud Godon.) This was no little-league-type game: both countries have very talented teams—and France's includes something of a star performer, the American (born in Belgium, raised in France) Tony Parker of the San Antonio Spurs (and hubby of Eva Longoria, a not-so-desperate housewife).

In some ways, it wasn't all that different from a basketball game in North America. Except here many of the fans come with a particular gusto, often blowing hard into a kazoo-like contraption, especially whenever the opposing team has the ball—the deafening sound (almost as loud as a Who concert! Get out the earplugs, fast!) apparently meant to distract or disturb the team into blowing the shot, or just losing the ball to the Turkish team. They also like to chant "Türkiye!" and clap in unison to show their support. (To see and hear for yourself, play the video clip below.)

Well, it seemed to work. Or maybe the Turkish team was just really on the ball last night. (Or maybe France just got sloppy, or was otherwise unprepared.) In any case, the final score wasn't as close as we thought it might have been. We've forgotten the score already, but it was something like a 15-point spread at the end. So most folks left the sports halls in high spirits, and we made our way back to our apartment building, crossing the Bosphorus with the glittering lights below, over to the Asian side of Istanbul—a fairly long ride, actually, but at least long enough to regain our hearing.

Opening day ceremonies at school: proud parents with cameras, kids with flags, loudspeakers with polka and the Red Baron

Today was the first official day of school, and there was plenty of pomp and ceremony to mark the occasion. Maybe it's the same the world all over, what with proud parents taking snaps of their daughters and sons walking with their new classmates, the various, obligatory speeches from school administration (in Turkish and English: double your fun!), the playing of the national anthem and obligatory raising of the flag, and of course the obligatory polka music blaring over the loudspeakers. Polka? Well, yes, or something that pretty well resembles Lawrence Welk's band.

Then after about 30 or 40 minutes everyone had just about enough fun, and after the middle and high school students were well on their way back to their classrooms, and the primary school students were about to follow, over the loudspeakers came an eerily-familiar tune... ah yes, and then the lyrics became audible, confirming that this was indeed a cover version of the old 1960s hit song "Snoopy vs. The Red Baron" by The Royal Guardsmen:

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more
The Bloody Red Baron was rollin' out the score
Eighty men died tryin' to end that spree
Of the Bloody Red Baron of Germany

Not that anyone was paying any attention to it. Just a few of us, apparently, and at least one of us trying to rid the tune from going around and around in our heads all morning. Not too bad a price, I suppose, for an otherwise colorful, interesting break from teaching!

[wow, that's loud!]

1st day of (1st grade) class: 1st impressions

Well, today was my first day of class, for 1st graders. It was actually more of an initial getting-to-know you session (Hello, I'm _____. How are you? What's your name?), plus a review of numbers and colors. (Classes really start up next week.)

Anyway, it was pretty funny. I knew going in that, obviously, a first grade class would be somewhat different than the university-level classes I've been teaching for the last 10 years (duh!), but still it was something of an eye-opener. Let's just call the atmosphere, at least for one of the classes, was, er, lively.

Of course, the students don't really speak or understand that much English at this point, so any of my requests for them to "please sit down" or to "please be quiet now" weren't understood, and so weren't done!

İpek to the rescue! İpek is Turkish, and she'll also be teaching these same 1st graders. It turns out that Turkish teachers have been assigned to come into expats' classes for the first day, just to help out and offer a bit of crowd control! Well, I have to say that she was a life-saver, who was able to (finally) somehow encourage (most) of the students to sit back down and be relatively quiet.

But for the 10 minutes before she arrived, I had an interesting experience: I wrote my name up on the board (a chalk board, mind you, none of that fancy white board stuff) and introduced myself in the simplest way possible. Almost immediately about half the class jumped to their feet and proceeded to run up to the board and write out their first names, too. You can't fault their enthusiasm, that's for sure.

Still, it was a relief to have İpek come to remind students what's expected of them in school (some were here at ISTEK last year, in kindergarten, while a number of others are new to the school). And the two of us had fun reviewing the numbers from 1-10 and various colors—I think I've just about got all those mastered, no problem! :-)

Apologies to any of you who aren't teachers or not specifically interested in what goes on in a Turkish elementary school, but hopefully some of you are. Looking forward to next week, with surely some more eye-openers.

...and yes, there is a gumball/candy machine in one of the hallways at school!

Princes' Islands day trip

Actually, the clear day photos were from Sunday. Here are some pics from Saturday, on a trip to Büyükada island—the largest of the nine Princes' Islands, easily accessible (and a half hour or so) from Istanbul in the Sea of Marmara. We went with some co-workers and had a nice hike and lunch.

Before we arrived at Büyükada, the ferry made a pitstop at Helbeliada Island, which has a nice waterfront as well. (Perhaps some day we'll go there as well.)

When we got off at Büyükada, we soon set off for a short hike up one of its hills, enjoying the increasingly picturesque views and the fine local architecture. Below is one of many majestic old structures on Büyükada, and as you can see (well, if you click on the photo, that is, to see the full-size photo) there are horse-drawn carriages on the island. Actually, that's pretty much the only way to get around, if you're not a cop and don't want to be a pedestrian.

We took the pedestrian route, though, knowing that the hike up the hill would be good for us—we haven't joined a gym yet, so we have to take advantage of any exercise we can get!

Once we came down off the "mountain," we escaped the sun's rays and enjoyed lunch at one of the many open-air restaurants near the ferry terminal. Here's Marc with some of our new colleages and friends (Karen took the shot):


Most people visiting Istanbul for any time are be tempted to go to the Princes' Islands, if only for the day, as we did, since they're so close and yet so OUT of the hustle and bustle of the big city. Hardly very adventurous, but quite a pleasant way to spend a day.

Istanbul on a clear day

As promised (see yesterday's blog), here are a few snaps of Istanbul that we took yesterday afternoon, on our way back to the Asian side of town. As you can see from above, Istanbulites don't let a fine view of Sultanahmet and the Golden Horn get in the way of the serious business of fishing! All ages, and as you can see, both genders get in the act. This is at the Karaköy ferry terminal, in the late afternoon.

We then hopped onto the ferry back to the Asian side, and enjoyed nice views of that side of the city—the sun was behind us, at that point, and the light was pretty good at that hour.

(As always, click onto an image if you want to see the full-size version.)

Finally, just before arriving at our stop (Kadaköy), our ferry made a pitstop at Haydarpaşa—a train station built in 1908 as, according to Rough Guides, "part of Germany's grandiose plans for a Berlin to Bagdad railway...." Ok, so that never quite happened, but at least we're lucky to still have that grandiose structure on the shores of the Bosphorus.