Salı Günü, Tuesday.

Hello family and friends! Tonight, I would like to tell you about my day in Erzurum. 

I woke up at 6:15. It sounds early but the sun had beat me. Turkey only has one time zone so cities in the East like ours enjoy very early sunrises and early sunsets. I’m grateful that I don’t teach afternoon classes because it is usually dark before 4. I’m looking forward to the winter solstice. I made some Nescafe. I’m in the market for a French press. 

As I waited in front of the fruit stand where Aysegul usually picks me up, the manavci (fruit seller) insisted that I wait inside his store because it was way too cold to wait outside. We have experienced our coldest temperatures this week--in the low 40s. He also told me that I would learn more Turkish inside than I would outside. He had clearly noticed my terrible accent in mornings past. I sat on the chair behind his register and ate a pastry for a few minutes as he bustled around stacking tomatoes and speaking to me in Turkish. Probably giving me advice about how to stay warm but who knows for sure.

I arrived at school ready to knock out my four hours of teaching. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I teach two hours of engineering students and two hours of tourism students. Although both fields require an English proficiency, engineering students must score much higher on the college entrance exams and the difference in my two classes’ speaking levels reflects that difference in scores. What the tourism students may not have in vocabulary and grammar, however, they certainly make up for in their enthusiasm and competitiveness.

In each class, I teach (or sometimes attempt to teach) my students how to speak about two topics. Today our topics were “Food Around the World” and “The Movies.” Highlights include: When I was explaining that enchiladas were bread rolled up and stuffed with meat and cheese, one boy chimed in: “Oh, like a cigarette.” Sure. When discussing pizza, I felt it suitable to explain the beauty of a Little Caesars’ “Hot and Ready”s--especially in a city like Erzurum where there is no such thing as fast food. I went on at length about how one could walk in and take a pizza and only be $5 poorer. One of my very serious students stood up in the back of the room, took a deep breath and said: “Teacher, this pizza--maşallah.” Maşallah is a phrase which roughly translates to “may God bless and keep.” It’s usually reserved for newborn babies. But apparently also appropriate for Pizza Pizza.

I joke that my mornings are filled with teaching and my afternoons are filled with drinking tea. This is actually the truth, not a joke. I drank my first glass (and they are served in glass cups here) with Elizabeth and Korey at the Medical School cafeteria with our menemen, a casserole-type dish of tomatoes and eggs. When I got back to school, Muzaffer Bey, the vice-director of the Foreign Language School invited me into his office for a glass. I think of Muzaffer Bey as the grandfather of Erzurum. He has bright white hair. He has taught English here for his entire life. Our boss, Mehmet Bey, had him as a teacher for his first year of high school. He always stares out the window as he speaks to me in his office. He has a look in his eyes like he is gazing at the mountains that surround Erzurum and thinking about all the people he has influenced here. This would be really cool if he actually had a view of the mountains but his office is on the first floor so he can only see cars in the parking lot.

I went upstairs and drank a glass with my office mate, Aysel, as I graded speaking presentation topics. When I went downstairs to print some grading sheets, I refused a glass with Zekir Bey the printer. I instantly regretted it. He is someone I should befriend but I had left my office door unlocked upstairs so I felt like I could not stay. I drank my fourth cup of the day with Zeynep, one of my partner teachers. She teaches my tourism students grammar and reading. She wanted to hear how they were progressing. I was happy to tell her that they are trying very hard and was also secretly pleased when she agreed that one of the best students is a girl named Helin. She’s pregnant and as I was leaving, she told me that the next time I stopped by, she’d love to discuss what it is like to give birth in the U.S. I’ll have to do some research on that one. 

After dinner with Emily and Korey, Emily and I embarked on what we knew would be an Erzurum adventure. As I mentioned, we had agreed to give English lesson to the family that owned Guzelyurt, Erzurum’s fanciest establishment, but still did not know many--or any--details about these lessons. We were told to arrive at Guzelyurt at 7 where Mervlat the waiter would meet us. Emily accurately described our experience with Mervlat as something out of an old movie. The bar is empty. Classical music is playing. A man wearing a suit beckons you urgently over to two empty bar stools. Tea is poured. A phone rings. Just as urgently, you are beckoned down some back stairs. You introduced to another man in a suit. You are told to sit  inthe back seat of a car. You have not idea what is going on since everyone is speaking a different language. You are suddenly zooming down the city streets. This is where my narrative breaks down. I really can’t imagine Cumhuriyet Street as one in Paris or Rome--but up to that point, we felt like film noire stars. The driver (who turned out to be the owner’s brother) drove us to Dadaşkent. The suburbs. Although it was dark, I could tell it was the nice part of town. At a first floor apartment, we were greeted by Sibel and Dilay. Dilay is 12 and she will be our pupil. From the mere hour and a half I spent in their house, I could tell that Sibel is the ultimate Turkish Tiger Mom. She is a doctor at a private practice in town. Her apartment was impeccably decorated. She made us tea with such haste, I did not know water could boil that quickly. She does not speak English so she immediately put Emily on the phone with her sister who does. I heard the conversation secondhand but apparently Sibel wanted to know about our qualifications for teaching her daughter. Emily told her that we were English teachers at Atatürk. “Wait, are you Fulbrights ETAs?” said Sibel’s sister, “I work for the Fulbright Comission in Ankara.” Yes, just to prove that the world is smaller than I already thought, we had met this women during our orientation in Ankara. She is the accountant for Fulbright’s programs in Turkey and knew details about us from our applications long before Sibel handed Emily the phone. 

Sibel wants Dilay to be accepted to Robert College (actually a high school) in Istanbul in three years. Robert College could probably be described as Turkey’s Exeter and English fluency is required. Dilay is well on her way. She can understand me better than the majority of my students and her accent is flawless. I’m looking forward to spending an hour with her each week and figuring out how to keep her attention. We might try to read Harry Potter, she told us she enjoys the movies. Sibel was lovely to us as well. Although I emphasized her intensity, she seemed very happy to meet us. When she drove us home, she told us about a Blues Festival--the first in Turkey--that was visiting Erzurum on Sunday. “Tickets are hard to get but my husband has some if you would like to come.” I think we may have accidentally fallen in with Erzurum high society.

For those of you that made it to the end of this account, it is now later than I would like to go to bed to be rested for my 8 a.m. class--and what will follow. Luckily, however, I have no doubt that my tomorrow will be charged with the caffeine from the glasses of tea. Inşallah.