It’s been long enough since I last blogged for me to forget my password but I will not waste time with apologizes and jump right back in. I left Erzurum for 5 weeks in January and February and had a lovely time visiting the Labaune family in Paris, Paule in Nancy (6 years have passed since we stopped sharing a room but we have wonderfully not run out of things to talk about), Karolina in Warsaw and Danielle in Istanbul. My journey ended in Detroit. I went home for my Dad’s investiture and therefore conveniently saw every person in my life whom I love and had also traveled to Detroit for the same purpose. It was as perfect a trip for me as it sounds. The highlight was certainly w the people I got to see, even though I feel very fortunate that I saw some new parts of the world as well.
I’ve been back in the Erzurum swing of things for one month now. And in that month I’ve heard from my students: “Bahar geldi inşallah, teacher!” To which I respond, “Yes, I hope spring is here, too.” It’s 35 degrees outside right now and the sun has set, such a nice reprieve from the subzero days of December. My window is actually open since I don’t control my heat and I think my landlord still thinks it’s in the negatives.
I’ve been meaning to blog for a few days now, so I’ve “written” the beginning of several different blog entries in my head. I’ve decided to combine them. Since I never made it past the first few paragraphs of this mental writing, I will jot them down here as a few vignettes of my first month back in the ERZ--as I’ve recently started calling it.
“Step-Touch-Mambo”
I joined a gym last semester and I was very confused when it closed two weeks later. I saw the light on as I walked past two weeks ago. Armed with more confidence in my Turkish language skills and the desire to work off my post holiday kilos, I walked in with the plan to ask to revive my former membership. It turns out the gym was renovated and under new management. Any hope of explaining that I once was a member of this gym was lost soon after I started my conversation with Nurcan, the feisty 4 foot 10 proprietor who did not speak without shouting (was it because the music was so loud or was she just used to yelling at people to run faster?). By the end of our talk, however, I signed up for twice a “Step Arobik” class for the equivalent of $25 a month.
I’ll have to go back a bit in time for this part of the narrative. In October, during one of the first times I met with the other Fulbrighters in Eastern Turkey, we made two lists entitled “Things Turks are Good at” and “Things Turks are Not Good at”. At the time, it was both a bonding experience and a coping mechanism. We were all going through similar experiences in different cities in Eastern Turkey and we were trying to make sense of the sometimes unexplainable behaviors going on around us. We’ve since edited and added to those lists, our knowledge and understanding definitely improved since October. On the top of the “Not Good At” List was plumbing. On top of the “Good At” list was dancing. There was debate. Some of my colleagues believed that there must be some Turks that can not dance. They were wrong. And my Step Arobik class is proof. Whether it is to the sounds of Shakira, Usher or Tarkan, this group of women glide effortlessly off their step blocks to the floor and back. Salsa, hip hop, belly dancing--boom, easy. Sometimes I think the teacher focuses a bit too much on everyone staying on beat than actually sweating. But hey, I’m here for the cultural experience.
Learning Arabic
Another addition to my schedule this semester is my new Turkish Language for Foreigners course. Finally! I came in with the goal this semester to not stop until I found a course to force myself to be more structured with my learning. I ended up walking into one--literally. The printer in our department was broken and I was advised to go to a man named Ahmet’s office and use his. Ahmet spoke no English...because he teaches the new Turkish course that will start Monday! Bingo! I am one of three students in the course. The two others are men from Syria. I occasionally meet Syrians in Erzurum and such encounters are always shocking reminders for me to count my blessings and well, because I feel I can do nothing else, pray. My new classmate, Soheb, told me that he and his wife were here in Erzurum but his parents and brothers are still in Aleppo. “Are they safe?” I asked. “No one in Syria is safe,” he replied. I am grateful that saying such things as, “I am praying for your family and your country” are appropriate to say in Turkish cultural (and presumably Syrian as well) because I did not know what else to say. Yesterday, our teacher was explaining the proper use of articles and adjectives when speaking about well-known people, i.e. facts that everyone knows. His examples: 1. Atatürk was a brave man. 2. Assad is a cruel man.
Erzurum's own Shopaholic
And to lighten the mood, a tribute to my officemate, Aysel--who I absolutely adore. This is what I walked into this afternoon. She loves to shop. I asked her what she did before the mall in Erzurum opened three years ago. And she said, “I do other things besides shop!” But she could not think of any examples.
Being a Good Host
Last weekend in preparation for other some other Fulbrighters to come to Erzurum to ski, I told Korey I was going to clean my apartment like “a Turkish woman.” He laughed and said that I was going to be up all night. I was not up all night but my apartment was also significantly below a Turkish woman’s standards. I’ve blogged at length about Turkish hospitality. I have not blogged enough about the effort put into being a good host in Turkey. Turks do not just invite you over. They invite you over to a spotless home and a perfectly prepared meal. And as I become closer to some of my Turkish friends here, I am not, as I expected, invited over without such preparations. I am simply informed of the process. “Hey, Nermin, can I come over?” “Sure, come over at 7.” “Seven? It’s four o’clock right now.” “I know, I need to clean.” Three hours sounds excessive, but if you saw how spotless her home was, it makes sense.
I’ve had conversations with some of my Turkish girlfriends about how the increase of women in the workforce has not diminished their duties at home, it has only made planning for guests more necessary. One of my co-workers joked, that when she was growing up, guests could just drop by because her mother stayed home and therefore had more time to keep the house in perfect condition. She continued that guests need to give her fair warning for her to get her house in “acceptable” condition. Knowing how much effort my friends put forward just to have a casual sleepover make me appreciate them and this culture so even more. Maybe I will someday be invited over to a messy home, but at this rate, it seems like it will be a while.
Speaking of, I am receiving a guest tonight. She is a friend from Turkish class in the U.S. and is studying abroad in Istanbul for the semester. And-ah!-she arrives in 4 hours, my floor is not washed, her bed is not made and dinner is not prepared. Whether those tasks will ever be achieved is uncertain. I’m not quite a full “hanım efendi” yet but I’ve learned quite a bit this year. Regardless of my success, I only have 4 hours--I better get started!
