I've decided to post my ramblings about my first experiences with Turkey in here. This was the first time I had ever been on my own. Internationally or otherwise. The most travelling I had done up until that point was an ill-fated bus trip across the USA. I ran out of money before I got back to Canada. But this was a different story altogether. I plan to edit my own text as I see fit! This journal picks up after I had been in Istanbul for five months so you are spared the exhaltations and the "cradle of civilizations" "two continent-straddling" babble.
Observations:
Turks are big on footware and footcare products. Sneakers and dirty boots just do not fly here. I mean, how the hell can you buff Cons? Everytime I pass the bootblacks (note the British-ism, hanging around too many ex-pat Brits - ed) I can sense their disapproving stares. I can hear them throw back their heads, raise their brows and click their tongues: "Damn yabancis. Don't know the first thing about proper footware." they say, in Turkish.
But the streets of Istanbul are full of leather clad feet, itching to be cleaned and buffed. For the streets of Sirinevler get quite dirty this time of the year. So the bootblacks turn from me and focus on their fellow Turks.
On dancing: At a New Year's party right in the middle of Turkey, quite a few Turks were really going to town. One girl, who looked Russian to me, was burning up the dance floor. She shook her hips, flipped back her bleached hair, and did strange and wonderful things with her hands. She was definately what you might call an attention seeker.
Attention seekers puzzle me. That's not to say I've never done it. I did, recently, pin up a picture of a shy manager, showing him hiding his face, in the teacher's room. You couldn't tell who it was because he was hiding his face, which was the whole reason why I put the picture up in the first place. Beside the photo, I wrote: "Who is this man? Why is he hiding? And where did he get that tie? My sources indicate that he could be one of the following:
1. Bill Clinton's first intern
2. Former teen idol Chachi from Happy Days
3. Mild mannered english school manager by day, adult star 'Dick Rambone' by night
4. The Sirinevler Serial Ass-Grabber (there really was such a character - ed)
5. Guinness Record Book holder for world's largest collection of blow up dolls
6. Barry Manilow's fashion coordinator
Although one could argue that I did it for attention, I never signed my name. Only my room-mates knew it was me. Most people had a good laugh. And a few even knew who number 3 was. For those that laughed, I claimed ownership. For those that stared at it blankly, I tsked and made 'how disgusting' faces. What a silly lame-assed practical joke. How frat house. Grow up already...
Why did I do it? Probably because no one thought I'd have the , uh, fortitude, to actually do it. I never got admonished for it because even our DOS laughed. And said manager got all embarrassed and shy, but actually liked the attention.
One on one or in small groups people generally like me. I can be witty, interesting, and generally easy going. Occasionally strange as hell, but that's just when my mind's going a mile a minute and I've already gone onto different topics...wait - you weren't in my head just then were you? I say when they stare at me blankly, confused. It's a good thing. My mind is a kalaidoscope of strange and interesting phenomena. And I don't even do drugs. Go figure.
I am, however, a different person in large groups. To my students, I generally put on an air of competency and good humour. To everyone else, English speaking that is, I can fade into the woodwork. Oooh, look at the architecture, Gothic, isn't it? (I've also volunteered for video camera detail at more than one wedding and get-together so that I wouldn't be expected to socialize - ed). Groups have a way of ignoring me, and I them. I know that some people can interpret this as rude, but the blunt truth is that I'm socially inept (I've been working on this! - ed). It's not a reflection on the individuals in the group at all.
I backed out on a party tonight (and bought this journal). It may seem selfish of me, but the thought of sitting in a bar all night, shooting the shit with the same people I've been hanging out with for four months, irked me. The people are all great and there isn't one of them I don't like, but I wanted to get out of there. It was Jimmy's farewell party. I hope he knows me well enough to know that there was no malintent involved. He earned my loyalty forever when he turned to Ann and Kristin last week and said "Y'all are blowing her off!" (They were - kept interrupting me - it was getting annoying.)