30 June Ankara

Man, another busy day. The attached picture is of a typical traffic snarl in the area where we're staying. Turks are nutty drivers.
We had two dynamite speakers today, plus a masterfully conducted Turkish lesson. When a teacher is really good, he or she makes the lesson design/implementation seem so effortless. Umut Ata has been our teacher and he's great. Sadly, no more Turkish lessons, not in the classroom anyway. Out in the real world. I'm a little bummed at the huge gulf between my brain in the classroom and my brain/mouth conjunction on the street. Coming up with the right Turkish phrase out of my 150 word exposure so far is tough! Food continues to be a happy experience--great dinner tonight with the girls: Sue, Kerry and Sarah. I took pictures of it, will post tomorrow. Today's pics are of the ebru lesson at the Museum of Folkloric Arts (my name for it, not theirs). Ebru is a type of painting in which paint is laid out/sprinkled/splattered by the artist into a large tray of water. The paint lies on the surface, holding the shape the artist constructs. Then a piece of silk, cut to the size of the tray, is gently laid on top of the paint pattern. It immediately absorbs the paint, so when the artist pushes the cloth to the bottom of the pan, then gathers and squeezes the cloth in her hands, the pattern remains intact, undisturbed. The cloth is squeezed into a long, thin shape, then rinsed in a pan of treated water, then hung to dry. I bought one today for 10 TL (about $6.50). 2 of our colleagues--one an artist and one an ebru enthusiast--made their own models today, so beautiful.

Day 6 Ankara

The Turks know breakfast. I should've been born a Turk. That's what I thought when I saw the spread this morning at the hotel. I didn't take any pictures (that's for tomorrow) but let me just give a few details: 4 kinds of olives; 4 kinds of cheese; 4 kinds of bread rolls (with sesame); several fresh fruits, dried fruits, nuts and oils. Half a dozen jams, fresh and prepared yogurt, cold cereals, sliced meats, and...not sure. Coffee, tea, juices...and the piece de resistance: a fresh honeycomb, held up in a block for you to cut of a section. Holy frijole. Amazing. I can't wait til breakfast tomorrow.
Today we had a really good Turkish lesson, followed by a lecture from a polisci prof on Turkish politics from the late Ottoman period to now. She was brilliant. We were drooping by the end (when I say "we" I mean my colleagues. I am among the few who are invigorated by political science lectures. And this woman knew her stuff, and she delivered her lecture in lovely, professional English. I was impressed on many levels.)
Then we went to Ataturk's mausoleum. I have to digest this trip a bit to record my impressions. I don't want to sound too "American". It's important to keep 20th century Turkish history in mind before offering commentary. I jotted down some thoughts today--much to think on.
Dinner was good but pricey. Don't wish to talk about my band-aid purchase debacle (19 lira--'nuff said).
The attached picture is of a crane that was used to build a pretty modern building recently. Apparently all was going great until they realized they were almost done with the building and couldn't get the crane out. It's been years and the building's never been used. Can you believe it? I feel like this can't be the whole story, but I don't know how to contradict it. Anyone??

Part 3 of tonight's dinner and some random facts

The picture files must be massive. The taste of this tea was just as large. I even had to put a bit of sugar in mine, and that's saying something. Liv and Ruby would love this.

We met our tour guide, Ali, today. He looks like a guy you'd see with a Mets (or Yankees) hat, anywhere in the world. Very nice, very experienced with the Fulbright tours. He talked to us about Ankara as we drove back from the airport. Turks pay the highest gas prices in the world, he said, about $12/gal., due to very high taxes. About 70% of the cars sold in Europe last year were made in Turkey, and automobiles topped Turkish exports in 2008 (again, per Ali). There's more but those are the two facts that stand out the most. Must get to bed. Turkish language lessons resume first thing, and judging from my spotty performance ordering dinner, I could use the rest. Hugs to all (Turks are big kissers, apparently, but more on that later--)

Pide = Turkish flatbread "pizza"

This was spinach but I had (the tastier) mushroom.

Corba = Soup

Day 5 Ankara

The trip from hell wasn't from hell, just from Austin. 28 hours, 4 flights, lots of waiting around, but we made it. On the last leg I had to sit between two older men who smelled of Body. The whole plane smelled of Body. (But hey, I probably smelled like Breath, and not the Mentos variety.) Somehow the laptop sign-in directions for this have switched to Turkish...pretty sneaky. I took about a dozen pictures today, but they're all huge. Any advice on how to trim them on this end? (I just tried to upload 4 of them: no dice. Will try again with 3).
We're zombies, but dinner out was just the ticket to keep us up that extra hour. Among other culinary innovations, the Turks have a salty yogurty drink (my family is skipping ahead automatically, too gross for them) called ayran. You either meet the challenge of ayran or not, and I'm proud to say I came, I drank, I enjoyed. After all, the Russians do some crazy stuff with dairy. But this was delicious, nice and light, but not at all sweet. Then a delightful lentil soup (chorba is soup) and a mushroom pide, like a flatbread pizza. I took a picture of my colleague's spinach pide--good, but not as amazing as the mushroom. Sadly, I could only eat about 1/4 of it. Good lesson for the future. Keep ordering soup, but pare down on the rest. Steaming glass of chai (tea) at the end. Turkish tea glasses have no handles. No wonder they have to sit and talk for so long. Keeps them from burning their fingers off.

Atlanta airport, Day 4

4:20 wake-ups are never a joy, but considering we were all on time for our 5:00 departure from the dorms, you'd think the airport part would be a breeze. Ha. Delta was woefully understaffed and the crush of people recalled the worst of travel in the 80s. Long slow lines, lots of folks with kids...I really felt for them. We are now safely in Atlanta, waiting for NYC departure. All tired, but I'm determined to stay up until the Istanbul flight.
Last night we went to Threadgill's in Austin. Chris (our program facilitator) chose them for their down home cooking style. Fried meats, gravy coated, etc. etc. etc. The fried green tomatoes were good, but not as good as Mom's. The fried pickles, however, rocked. They lived up to Chris's enthusiastic billing. Odd, but yum.

Day 3 Austin

Merhaba! I sit at a Starbucks with my brain already itchy from having various html rejections and other blog posting mishaps. I glance at my pad of Turkish phrases scribbled hastily yesterday. Turkish is interesting but no cake walk. Phrases from yesterday:

• Adim Wendy (Adum Wendy: My name is Wendy)
• Memnun oldum (pronounced as it looks: Nice to meet you)
• Nasilsiniz? (Nasulsunuz: how are you?)

Turkish has a letter that looks like a lower-case i but without the dot. It's pronounced like "uh". Can't represent that on an English language keyboard. But you get the point.
Time to go back to the dorm for a shower. Language class starts in an hour. It's already in the 90s. I kind of like it. They take their air conditioning pretty seriously here in Texas.

What got left out: Day 1

Atlanta Airport—Day One, 2 pm

Stopped for a beer. It's a rule. Plus the bartender ID'd me. It took a sec to realize she was talking to me. Flight was ok—Debbie and family sat behing me. Crazy. Speaking of which, Mom asked me what I was wearing/what I'd brought for clothes.She said she'd realized why those issues had been consuming me for the past few days:The Dressing. (...wait for it...trip to Turkey...see?) I groaned audibly.

The women at the waitress station keep asking the bartender for glasses of ice. Atlanta is not Brookfield.

So many people traveling with kids, little adorable ones (not the sullen teen variety). All these little color coordinated kids of 4, 5 and 6, pulling their little roller bags with purpose. Naturally I think constantly of Liv and Ruby and how well they'd be travelling. This is going to be hard.

Flight leaves in 1 hour. David is here.

Our cast of characters, part 1

Julie Stoker from Hawaii. (R) Lizz from Chicago--she coaches water polo, among other things, and Sue Graham from Weston, MA. Very fun women.

Me with little sleep, on the Bat Boat.

Updates from Austin

My learning curve is ascending. Like a parabola. It's a river of first-time activities, including paying for WiFi in a cafe just now. Texas sleeps in the morning, so it seems. I was up at 6, thinking the girls would call, and now I have time to slap on some pictures and updates from the past 2 days.

Day 2 Austin

Day 2 Austin...6 p.m.

Brain overload. Language study fried me by 11:30. Turkish combines the most challenging elements of several languages I no longer speak well--super. I need to sit and practice with peers over dinner. There are Longhorns everywhere, cut into the chair backs in our conference room. Talk by Jen (aka Dr. Gates-Foster) was fab, and holy cow, she's giving us her power point with an awesome array of maps and pictures. This is way better than my Mex-Am War show (except mine had tejano music, take that, period D class.) The Ottoman presentation was interesting too. They had great names for dignitaries.

Liv having a bit of a rough time, sniffly on the phone. It's really tough to hear.

10:45 p.m.

Just back from Antone's at 4th and Colorado in Austin, listening to live music with a handful of my colleagues. Hadn't done that for ages--live music in Brookfield is only at the library on Sunday afternoons, it seems. Lonestar beer: $3. College kids all over. Guys in overalls playing the mandolin (okay, there was one, but I thought it was cool). My brain has been on overload since 2:00 p.m. Makes me have renewed sympathy for our students. How can a person pay attention to so much information in one day?
Austin is, according to Dan, our taxi driver (himself a Nigerian 30-year resident of Austin, with a master's degree in public policy) not like the rest of Texas. And we feel it. I mean, it's hot, but it's funky. Cool, in that crunchy way. Dan intimated that it was regarded suspiciously by the rest of the state. I can only imagine the nuances therein.
We had fabulous lectures today, although my brain felt full after each. I expected to drool cerebral fluid out my ear at any moment.
Talking to Liv before dinner was tough. She's having a hard time (at least on the phone--I'm sure it's more fun on the ground). Ruby, on the other hand, was perfectly buoyant. Interesting.

Need a good night's sleep. Several sessions tomorrow, starting with language. Yikes.

Bradley Airport, Adventure Commences

Chris and I got out the door by 7:00--a rarity. Then through traffic (we're not quite NYC or MA drivers in CT, but almost) to airport. Lousy breakfast at heavily-patrolled terminal. TSA is doing its part to help the economy, that's for sure. I cried--twice. Am so over that. Then, crazy enough, ran into Debbie Weik and family and Mike Nolan in the terminal. How nuts is that? We had a quorum for a mini-faculty meeting and voted to have every Friday be a jeans day. Debbie is off to the West for rugged family adventure, and Mike is heading to LA. But for the next 15 minutes he's my tech guru. Flight to Atlanta leaves in 40 minutes. Trying to load pictures. Hope it works.

Night before departure

This is Tech Intensive: setting up the blog, getting how-to lessons on the new (!!) camera and borrowed laptop (thank you, Dad). Chris says don't get crazy. Time to set it up for real.