We are in...Turkey?

Last night we had an "India" experience in Turkey. Half of us drove to the train station, unpacked the van of all our huge bags, entered the train terminal to hear the words "There is no train."

Not literally. There is a train. And a month ago, when our tickets were purchased, the rails from Konya to Istanbul were complete and suitable to travel on. Since two days ago, this is no longer the case. The line is closed for repairs until May 16th. This would have been nice to know, oh, before we packed the van, or maybe even when we bought our tickets, or at least somewhere in between.

So...yet again...we piled onto a private bus, this time barely squeezing our bodies and our bags into an 18-seater van --- every single seat was taken by a body and the aisle was chock-a-block full of bags.

At least this was the last move.

Now, back in Istanbul, on the Asia side this time. We arrived at 7:30 and looked around for a place to eat --- people looked at us like we were crazy. Again...I'm in Turkey, right? My body wasn't transported back two months to India where nothing opens until 11 and everything is closed before 8? No...there's still kebab and smiling faces everywhere we go, this is definitely Turkey.

Exhausted doesn't begin to describe,
B(ee)

Easter Fromps and Frolicks...

Yesterday, spending yet another Easter away from home, I attended my first Orthodox Easter service and then drove for two hours to Hasankayf, an old ruined Roman castle on the Tigris River.

The caves were by far the most beautiful place we've visited thus far in Turkey, and quite possibly the most beautiful place we've visited thus far on CRC. On the 2-hour drive to the caves, we were all wondering whose idea it was to put us all on a bus again, considering we've spent at least half of the past week on buses.

But after we had lunch (literally) sitting over the Tigris river and hiked up the old Roman road to the castle, which sits on a piece of higher land surrounded by deep gorges, we understood why this place was a must visit. Our professor had to literally herd us like sheep away from the half-ruined rooms and ruins when it was time to go back to the bus.

Today we're heading out on yet another bus ride (13 hours this time) to a Sufi village south of Ankara. We'll be there for five days and then head back to Istanbul, the last stop on our 8-month journey. A month from now, I'll most likely be passed out in my own bed with my own blankets, and bags still packed to the brim.

Happy (late) Easter,
B(ee)

Turkey and Europeanness...

I was talking with a fellow American (not on the program) the other night and dinner who's been teaching English in Ankara for the past few months. We got on the topic of our first impressions of Turkey and my immediate reaction was "It's so nice to be back in the West again...everything is on time and reliable and I just know how it works here!" He laughed and replied "That's funny because I feel so out of place here because I think it's very Asian."

I was awestruck by the reply. But considering he's never been to Asia, the reply was understandable.

Now, I'm not claiming to be an expert on any of the countries I've lived in by any means, but I've made some adjustments to my lifestyle as a result of living in Asia for 6 months. Little things like remembering that nothing has to be on time, and most likely will not be. Or observing hierarchies around me and putting myself within them in certain circumstances, despite how much it goes against my values.

In Turkey, I can still feel some of these values (mainly the hierarchies) but it doesn't take a huge effort for me to go to the store and buy groceries or order food and have at least a slight idea of what will be on the plate in front of me. The showers still don't have curtains and are still directed to spray into the toilet. However, the water is hot immediately! But for someone not coming out of a run across Asia, Turkey could be a rather strange land.

We're currently in Goreme (Cappadocia), living in a hotel that has been carved out of a mountain, surrounded by faerie chimnie mountains with thousands of caves carved into them. It feels a little bit like Star Wars, or some other fairy tale land. [I tried to upload pictures but it took too long and didn't even work. Check Picasa!]

But as the end draws closer, I find myself wishing for a stable place to stay and a reliably comfortable bed.

Home, is all I want right now,
B(ee)

Language Skills and Other Things...

Guess what?! I can officially order in Turkish and specify what I do and do not want...all in Turkish!...will accompanying hand gestures that aren't really necessary. I'm so proud of myself! I know most of my vegetables and I know what meat words are, although I'm not always sure what they are. It's a much better feeling, knowing enough of the language to know how to get through daily tasks like getting food, pharmacy things and all that.

Eating as a vegetarian is getting irritating. Bread and cheese (cold), bread and cheese (hot!), bread with some vegetables and cheese, or...just bread? The choices are varied...really...

Our week last week was insane! We had two to three classes a day, all away from our hotel so we spent a lot of time on the metro (which is unbelievably quiet, both the train and the people) getting form place to place. It was like real college again! Instead of one big field trip. Although the field-tripping starts again next week when we head to Cappadocia (aka faerie chimney land). We had classes on: Islam, political science, sociology, and Turkish language. Most of our professors were fabulous and we learned a lot about the political history and current situation in Turkey and social politics as well. Islam...on the other hand...hm...

Some topics we discusses that are floating around in my brain are: secularism, minority rights, "Europeanness", and modernization.

That's all for now,
B(ee)

Learning Turkish...

I'm not sure whether it's the fact that there is little to no English everywhere we go, or the familiarity of the script, or the friendliness of the people here, but I already know more Turkish than Thai or Hindi...and I've only been here a week! We start formal Turkish lessons tomorrow (also the start of many more classes in Ankara), but even without those I'll know a bunch of Turkish by the end of my time here.

We've been matched up with a huge group of students from universities in Ankara and they've been wonderful hosts for us, even aside from teaching us Turkish! Hanging out with peers has been one aspect of the program that's really been lacking so far so it's great to finally get some intercultural interaction with people our age.

Although Ankara is not as amazing and fantastical as Istanbul, we're still having a wonderful time and I'm sure I'd be absolutely in love if I hadn't spent a week in Istanbul prior to coming here.

Our classes are looking really great here! Turkish language, Politics and Modernization of Turkey, Islam, Sufism and Popular Religion in Turkey, Women and Islam...and more! It's going to be a jam-packed two weeks, but it's looking really fun already!

Wrapped in Turkey's arms,
B(ee)

Toasts in Turkey...

Some fellow CRCers and I made a toast last night. To cafes and to cobblestone streets; to water that is scorching hot immediately and to living circumstances that are basic, but cleanly; to learning how to trust people again and getting the same answer from three different people when you ask for directions.

India was a whirlwind, something to be remembered and cherished with space, in time. I can't say that I loved it, but I certainly didn't hate it. It was an incredible experience while it was happening, but I'm glad to be back in a place where I feel comfortable making friends with the locals and relaxing a little on my vacation.

We saw garbage trucks yesterday and street cleaners! We've already made some friends at the stores nearby and friends mean free hot apple tea which is wonderful in this winter-y weather.

I realized yesterday that if I had come to Istanbul from home, I would think it was incredibly busy and filled with people. But coming from a country that boasts the largest population in the world (yes, it passed China last year!) where privacy can't even be bargained for, this city is heaven. Our windows don't look out into someone's house! I can eat a meal without the men in the restaurant staring at me like a critic would a piece of art! There are sidewalks! I've never appreciated sidewalks so much in my life...

In appreciation,
B(ee)

A Twinkle in my Eye, Turkish Delights...

I knew that I was no longer in India the minute my feet hit the tarmack in Turkey. We boarded buses that seem wider than any motorized vehicle I've been on in my life. And I could stand while the bus was moving without clutching on to something (or someone) for dear life. The drivers not only drove on the side of the road I learned to drive on, they also stuck to that side of the road reliably! Both on the airport tarmack and in Istanbul!

There are numerous other differences between what I saw in Northern India and here in Turkey. And even though I do feel much more comfortable, at home, here, it's still distinctly different from what I see as "The West". There's a flavor of Asia in the air, in the art, in the pace of life, which makes sense considering Istanbul is the only city sitting on both the European and the Asian continents. But simple things, like head gestures, are familiar to me here. And just when I was getting used to the Indian head bobble!

One major thing I've noticed is that, at least in the area we're staying in (right near the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia), there is very little English around. In the other countries we've been in, the least a restaurant has had has been a poorly translated menu that gives you at least some idea of what you're ordering. Here, there's not even that. But the script is familiar, which is essential. But because of it, even in the short few hours we've been here we've picked up more words than we've learned in a few weeks in India. The possibilities of actually learning a minimal amount of Turkish are looking bright!

As good as "rugged living" is for my soul, I can't lie that it's nice to know that I have reliable electricity, hot water, and clean living arrangements for most of the next two months.

Reviving and relaxing,
B(ee)

Curious Ethics...

A few days ago, I experienced an instance of what I've been calling "curious ethics" here. I was in a store, made a purchase and somewhere in between paying and leaving "misplaced" my wallet. It was all kind of odd, not sure whether it fell out of my lap or was taken out of my bag, but either way, it wasn't on me when I went to pay for food five minutes later. I went back to the store, twice, and was met with a "No English, ma'am" the second time I returned. Curious, very curious.

So I filed a police report, arranged to cancel credit cards (collect calls are impossible to make in India) and was most upset about loosing my irreplaceable Hampshire ID --- everything else was either expired or renewable. I had a "like mother like daughter" moment when my mom, without prompt, was most upset about the Hampshire ID.

But low and behold, I get a call the next day at my hotel that I need to go pick something up at the police station...right away. I walked down there, half expecting to only get my business cards and maybe my useless IDs back. But everything was there --- save 2,000 rupees and the ragged-edged wallet itself --- cards and trinkets (even my paper soap) wrapped in a copy of my passport that I kept in my old wallet. Supposedly, some "school children found it at the market down the road"...where I haven't been.

Some questions pop to mind --- Isn't it interesting that the money is the only thing that matters? What did they buy with those 2,000 rupees? Did they even know what the credit cards were (they're rarely accepted much less used here in India) Are there schoolchildren somewhere who are 10 rupees happier? And most importantly, who would want a torn-up, ragged, oil-stained Vera Bradley wallet?

How curious are the ethics of all this?

B(ee)

My Puzzle In A Country...

India is starting to make a little sense. The puzzle pieces are all still scattered all over my mind and other places I haven't found yet, but I'm starting to turn some over and even connect a few! I'm not sure they'll stay connected for long, but I'll take success as it comes and goes.

I had my first real Indian sickness a few days ago. Turns out, looks and tastes can be deceiving and you don't find out until 8 hours later when your stomach wakes you up in the middle of the night to rid itself of foul substances in your digestive system. I missed going on the field trip to see the place where The Buddha gave his first teachings, but bed was pillow and the toilet were the only things I could manage that day.

Over that and feeling much better, we're been exploring Banaras for our last few days here until we head off to Sikkim tomorrow for colder climates and more Tibetan food! Yum! Yesterday, we went to a goddess worship microcosm of India 80 kilometers away from Varanasi. We got to meet two aghor practitioners, one male and one female which was a rare experience, even for our guide here. The aghor practice is completely orally passed and otherwise very secret so we didn't learn much about their practice, but it was an amazing experience to feel the presence of the female aghori from Bengal. She was one of the warmest and kindest women I've ever met and was happy that we all came because now she knows that her children also live in the United States.

India has been a great experience and I hope that life finds me back here, but in all honestly, I'm ready to walk down the street and not have to worry about stepping in cow dung or have strange men comment at me for no reason.

Ready for something a little less intense,
B(ee)

The City of 108 Names...

Bags locked, people arranged on the lower-most of the triple-decker beds of the B1 3AC car headed for Varanasi, or Banaras, or Kashi, depending on whose asking and whose responding, we leave the mountains of Risikesh for a different sort of settlement further up the Ganga, or or Ganges, depending on which textbook you consult.

The swaying of the train rocks us all to sleep, singing an initially ear-splitting lullaby that soon becomes sweetly familiar as the wheels of the train clank-clank-clank along the seemingly-endless line of tracks. I fall asleep with one arm clutching my bag with valuables: passport, wallet, camera, iPod, and the other cradling my mandolin, legs wound-up in the straps of my backpack.

“CHAI GARAM CHAI GARAM CHAI” is my alarm clock this morning. I sit up, sleepy-eyed, and feel a Styrofoam plate with vegetable cutlets and a masala omlette stuffed into my lap in between eye rubs. The man will be back to claim his 40 rupees later. The breakfast is almost edible, but everything tastes better after being washed down with a 5 rupee cup of chai.

~*~

I arrive in Banaras after hundreds of miles of yellow flowers and a few too many experimentations with the train food vendors who earn a living by moving up and down the train line, jumping on one train after another and walking up and down the aisles vats of chai, buckets of chips, and fanny platters of chickpeas and tomatoes. I climb off the train with everything I boarded with! --- an accomplishment considering the horror stories I’ve heard about stolen handbags, backpacks, and shoes.

I’ve been told that if I’m looking for the “typical Indian experience”, I’ll find it in Varanasi (or Banaras, depending on who‘s talking). The streets are filled with people dodging bicycles weaving in and out of rickshaws who will stop for nothing but the highly revered cows who move from one trash heap to the next in search of India’s delicacy for its holy, free-roaming livestock: Food Scraps à la Plastic Bag. At sunset, looking out from my hotel room balcony, I see sadhus clad in saffron robes and lay Hindus flocking to the Ganga for the evening ritual fire puja. India: where ropes of spirituality are tied to outright contradictions to form a complex web of chaotic existence coated with a thick layer of dust.

~*~

Watching a human corpse lay on a platform of sandalwood logs, torso separated from legs by engulfing flames, waiting to be burned into ash and accepted into Mother Ganga-ji, a serene calm resonates throughout my body. Death is close.

I don't feel the knot in my throat until I look away from the burning corpse and think about what it would be like to see someone I knew down there. Women aren't allowed on the cremation grounds, so my view was basically where I would have been --- if they let me there at all! Then the knot came. I remembered what it was like to watch the few bodies I've seen be placed and dropped into wholes in the ground, how quickly they disappeared and how distant it made me feel from them. I like it this way much more. It seems more personal, more ceremonial, like you have more time to say goodbye for good and then after, you never know, you could just be swimming among the ashes of a loved-one. That's comforting to me. Now that's not saying that I would swim in the Ganga-ji anytime soon...or ever.

In a holy place,
B(ee)