It looks like a fist.

But it's not.

For the past week or so, I haven't been counting days--I've been counting classes.  The advantage is that on Mondays and Wednesdays, I'm able to count down two instead of just one.
The disadvantage, of course, is that I spent five days staring at three fingers.
But no longer!  That fist is one of victory, and also indicates I don't have any more classes.  I fly home early Friday morning (6:00 early), and I'm not planning on going to bed at all Thursday night.  Consider it a preemptive strike against jet lag.

Things I will miss about Istanbul
-The baklava.  Both walnut and pistachio.
-Having a few hours free and going to see the Archeology Museum, or something equally cool.
-The Ayasofya.
-People watching.
-The fruit.
-Çai.
-Nargele.
-The cats in the garden.
-Pilaf.
-Public transportation.
-Sultanahmet Camii.
-Reading a placard that says "1750" and thinking "that's not old."
-The call to prayer.
-Simit.
-FETA.
-Stained glass windows.
-Seeing Istiklal lit up at night.
-The domes and minarets.
-Painted tiles.
-Three-story Starbucks.
-Mosaics.
-Seeing the Theodosian walls on my way to school.
-The architecture in general.

Things I will not miss about Istanbul
-Spending an hour one way to get to school.
-Not being able to differentiate between 5 and 10 kuruş coins.
-The lack of English bookstores.
-Having a window that looks out on the street...when the street is at the level of my shoulders.
-The notorious lack of answered email.
-Public transportation.
-10-hour time difference.
-Unreliable water pressure, water heat, and water.
-Not having to struggle to understand basic signs.
-Creepy come-ons in the Grand Bazaar.
-Red tape.
-The ants in the kitchen.  No matter what I do, they keep coming back.


I've also been doing a lot of last-minute sightseeing, since that gets put on the back shelf when you think you're going to be in the same place for a year.  I'll put the photos up soon.  There are lots (surprise).

m.

The Single Biggest Thing I Wish I'd Known Before Taking Classes In Turkey:

Thanks to a string of connections that began with my mother and ended up with...okay, lots of people, I can now say that this entire trip would have been far easier had I (and Coe) known one thing about how university works here.

First, a quick background on how I obtained such valuable knowledge:

My mom used to work with someone who used to work in Istanbul and has friends who still work here, in charge of a team of twenty-year-olds who work on different university campuses here (oblique enough? Good. That's what I was going for).

One of the girls has a younger sister (I think she's a year older than me) who studied here for a year, and it is she who gave me the Great Advice.

The Great Advice:

Turkish universities (obviously) operate differently from American ones.

Here, it's normal to squash as many possible classes into your week as possible, and then take a couple more. Most students here take at least 21 credit hours--nine, ten, eleven classes are all normal.

When there's a "clash" (when two classes overlap), it doesn't really matter. Most professors are okay with it (I, apparently, got the only exceptions).

Because they take so many classes, it's also completely normal to fail one or two courses a semester and then just take them over again.

Had someone known this going in, holy crap my life would have been easier.

m.

Qu'rans

m.

Still alive. (Well, barely. 'Tis finals season.)

I'm still reeling from a 20-page paper and presentation I had to put together for my Istanbul Architecture class.

My topic was [please note: this is a direct quote, exactly what I had to work with, grammatical errors included]: "urban & functional development of Hippodrome Area & its environments."

To everyone who prayed me through the paper, thank you. I needed it. I didn't actually hit the 20 page mark, but after seeing that in Turkey, photos count towards your page limit (I didn't have any), I don't feel so bad. I think I covered everything I needed to.

And it's done. That's what I'm happiest about.

In fact, I'm so happy that my body rebelled and decided to get sick on Friday.

And I have more pictures! [Thank goodness for visiting family members who give you proper incentive to be a tourist.]

Except for the two painfully obvious exceptions, everything is from the Turkish & Islamic Arts Museum.

[Carpet detail]

[Lots of carpets. They have one of the world's largest collections.]

[Carpet detail]

[Selçuk tile detail]

[Detail of door from Grand Mosque of Cizre]

There are also a lot (well, that's putting it somewhat lightly) of illustrated Qu'rans. I'll put them up in their own post, probably tomorrow sometime.

m.

[Not. Counting. Days.

Not. Counting. Days.

Not. Counting. Days.]

Lots and lots of pictures

[New Town from Galata Tower]

[New Town from Galata Tower]

[New & Old Town from Galata Tower]

[New & Old Town from Galata Tower]

[Sultanahmet Camii from Galata Tower]

[Sultanahmet Camii & Ayasofya from Galata Tower]

[Ayasofya from Galata Tower]

[New & Old Town from Galata Tower]

[New Town buildings from Galata Tower]

[New Town shop from Galata Tower]

[Istanbul University gate]

[Istanbul University gate detail]

[Istanbul University gate]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

[Süleymaniye Camii]

m.

It's official (well, sort of):

I'm coming home....

Details to be worked out, photos to be taken, finals to be completed before the deadlines, but I've made the decision to go back to Coe next semester (with hopefully a layover in Washington).

And yes, it feels so very wonderful.

m.

And now, to bed. It is a school night, after all.

Things I've learned [longer version, installment one(ish)]

If you're female and traveling to Turkey, you've probably heard one (or both) of these things:
"Turkish guys are so attentive (cute, too).  They'll help you get anywhere, and they're really friendly."
OR
"Turkish guys are creepy.  Avoid them like the plague."

Here's the deal: yes, some Turkish guys can be creepy as hell.  But so can American guys.  (Personally, I'm thinking frat boys, but I have some friends in fraternities, and they're not creepy.  See?  Stereotypes in action.)
But in the end, you do need to know what you're going to deal with (especially if you're traveling alone, and are young.  Or blonde).
It doesn't matter how conservatively you dress.  My worst experience occurred when I was showing less skin than I typically do at church.  Undoubtably, somewhere in the city, there's a local girl who's dressed less conservatively than you are.
But you're still American (or potentially European, or Canadian), and therefore loose (American and European girls just about as desperate for sex as the other, and, well, if you're Canadian...I'm sorry, but you know the routine; you may as well be from the states).

Guys will be attentive.  They will call you all sorts of endearments, some of which you wish you'd only be called by your significant other and not some strange guy ("angel" is great from your father or boyfriend/husband, but, uh, not some random guy selling tiles at the Grand Bazaar).

If you want to flirt, go ahead.  It should be fun.
But if you don't want to flirt (like me), grow a backbone, and fast.  I don't mean that you don't already have one, but if something you say can potentially be taken in a romantic/sexual/anything that's not "get the hell away from me" way, it will be.  They will read more into it, often, than you mean, and if you're not used to the attention (like me), it goes to your head faster than 90 proof alcohol goes to the head of a 15-year-old, and things start to spin out of control.  And I can pretty much guarantee that it will suck.

On the other hand, not all Turkish guys are like that.  Most are nice (often nicer than Americans), but just want to say "hi," or make you smile, or get to know you (this is especially true if you're studying here and they want to be friendly, not creepy).
Unfortunately, the guys who come on strong typically hang out around (or work at) the stretch between the Grand Bazaar and the Ayasofya--in other words, the touristy areas.  On the upside, it's damn easy to get directions from them, if you can figure out how to peel them off your arm later.

m.

And now, for something completely different.

There have been some steps in the right direction, but I don't really want to talk about them. I want to talk about something (else) that's been on my mind a lot.

Thanks to the wonder that is the internet, I can keep up with my favorite tv shows (The Big Bang Theory and Glee, and newly discovered Sherlock) while halfway around the world.

I've been pleasantly surprised at the turn that Glee has taken. This season, they've taken a closer look at the character's personalities and how that plays out.

For the last four weeks, what's consistently floored me is Kurt Hummel, played by Chris Colfer. Although many critics complain that all of the characters are stereotypes (and to them, I ask: when was the last time you were in high school?), these episodes are elevating Kurt past his "gay guy" label.

Since day one, Kurt's been bullied, but Karofsky, a football player, is one of the worst, and he's been the most consistent. In "Never Been Kissed," Kurt meets Blaine, who attends Dalton Academy and is comfortable with the fact that he's gay.

Karofsky's bulling gets worse, and Blaine encourages (ug. I really hate that word) Kurt to stand up for himself. In response to his somewhat nasty but very clear outburst, Karofsky forcibly kisses Kurt. In the next episode, he threatens to kill Kurt if he tells anyone what happened.

Kurt, rather obviously, is miserable. He's being bullied at every turn, but he can't exactly tell someone all of the details without, he feels, putting his life in danger.

Kurt's father finds out that his son is being bullied and insists on an audience with Karofsky, his father, and the principal (in a chilling turn of events, it's Principal Sue). Sue tells them she can't legally do anything unless Kurt's been threatened or hurt, and Kurt blurts out that Karofsky threatened to kill him (surprisingly, and pleasantly, if that's the right word, Karofsky's father believes Kurt). Sue asks why, and Kurt's stuck. He can't say that Karofsky kissed him, but there is obviously a reason he's been targeted.

Here's where my commentary comes in. What Kurt does is, I think, a huge indication of his character. Even though he could have bypassed Sue entirely and gone to the cops after the kiss (sexual harassment, I hear, lets you do that), he doesn't. He keeps his mouth shut.

Critics of the show, I've noticed, focus on the situation that the charters find themselves in and not how they respond, and, therefore, who they are shown to be.

Kurt keeping quiet is, I think, the loudest thing I've ever heard when it comes to being gay in a primarily heterosexual country. It's so difficult that Kurt's sympathy is to leave him to figure it out, even though he's still suffering for it.

Now, I do think that Kurt should have told someone about the threat on his life. I also think he did it in the right way. He forced the truth, but didn't say the one thing that Karofsky was most afraid he would.

Skipping plot (suffice it to say Karofsy's expelled and then comes back), Kurt decides to leave McKinley for Dalton. He joins the glee club there, but their entire mindset seems to be centered around their uniforms: look alike, sound alike, match personalities.

And, once again, Kurt's miserable (okay, this is me interpreting the situation, but I think it's fair). His personality was what made him an outcast at McKinley, but also what made him part of their glee club. He's the type of person who can't fit the mold, no matter how hard he tries--a quality usually admired, but not in this case.

In order to feel physically safe, he needs to become something akin to a drone. Yes, this sucks, but what makes it even worse is that Blaine keeps assuring Kurt he'll soon fit in. Encouraging words, but hollow when you consider "fitting in" means Kurt has to give up the person he is.

I'm not sure where the writers are planning on taking this, but I hope they don't trash the wonderful buildup they have. There's a lot of talent at that table, and I hope at least one of them realizes what they're setting up, and that no matter what they give him, Chris Colfer will carry it off with aplomb.

m.

Today was Black Friday,

and I did the unthinkable: for the first time in my life, I left the house and went somewhere with shops.

But, seeing as how Black Friday doesn't really exist here, it didn't matter this much.

I got the information for a photo place from Anni, one of the other Erasmus students, which was the first thing in a long while that's gone the way I had hoped it would. I then continued on to the IETT office to stand around for two hours, waiting to get my card.

Well, I didn't have to stand around for two hours.

The machine that dispenses numbers was out of order, or they'd stopped giving out numbers for the day...considering my Turkish hasn't progressed past the terms I need on a day-to-day basis, I still have issues with, well, most written things. (I'd also like to add: I arrived at 12:30, the office closes at 4, and when I was there on Wednesday, there were people getting numbers at 1:30, so it's not like I got there abnormally late or anything.)

So I still don't have my transportation card. I'll be back Monday morning at 8 for a third time. I'd love to have someone to rail at, but since red tape doesn't have a face, I'm not entirely who should be taking the brunt of my pissed-offed-ness.

I know I keep saying "I want to go home," but after all of this, I'm starting (starting) to think that I may go back to Iowa next semester.

I haven't decided anything yet, though.

What's really making it difficult is how easy it was. If all that had happened was applying for the program and then coming here, it would be totally different.

But that's not what happened.

Turkey was my third choice to study abroad, and it was the one that fit best and the one I was most excited about. And then there was Selin, and then more connections (thanks to my aunt who knows everyone my other aunt won't meet), and it all was so clear that Istanbul was where I was supposed to be. I haven't gotten many neon signs from God, but this was one of them.

That's what's making it so hard. I never really considered spending only a semester here, for several reasons, but now I'm staring at the mark five weeks out (classes end in five weeks, and then there are another two of finals, which I can finagle if I need to), willing it to come sooner than humanly possible.

So there's the part of me that really, really, really wants to go home. But there's another part of me that's tempted to stay for another semester. Part of the problem that I'm running into is that I don't really know any of the other students. Yes, I know that's my fault, but what I didn't realize at the time was that the only time I'd have to get to know them was during the parties (when everyone was drinking) or the barhopping. I think that if I stayed for another semester, I'd be far more willing to go out barhopping, knowing that it would pay off in the end.

And if I ever manage to fight my way through all of this red tape (I think I may buy some red ribbon when I get home and burn it), I won't have to deal with it again.

But, on the other hand again, I don't want to put up with the classes here any more than I have to. It was highly enjoyable to have easy classes for the first month or so, but now I'm just bored. Courses (with the exception of Graphic design) are interesting while my butt's in the seat, but after that, there isn't anything, really, to think about. The only homework I ever get is in Studio Design--a model a week--which I like, and the professors' comments are interesting and make me think, but the models only take me an evening to make, and I feel like I have to do all of the pushing myself. I try to come up with something interesting, that fits the criteria, and that I like, and with those three (rather simple) things, I have models that are near the top of the heap. Well, except for the time I completely missed the point of the assignment, but I'm pretty sure that was a translation problem. It's like almost no one in the class (they're all first years) is really interested in what's being said.

Normally, I'd have more patience with that kind of thing, but since Turkey works the same way most European schools do, which means all 50-ish of those students decided to study architecture, and even with a translator, it's obvious we're learning about the fundamentals.

m.

Reiteration

[A Warning, but not Apology: Herein lies Language.]

Fuck this. I really do mean that. This has moved so far beyond the realm of insanity that I don't think it even has a name.

I am tired of this fucking country, and of this city, and I just want to go home.

I have been here for three months, and I cannot take it anymore. I can't get to school without relying on the people I live with. I can't get a transportation card because I don't have a real photograph of myself. I don't like photos of myself. I hardly have any digitally, let alone on photo paper, let alone with me.

I'm supposed to go get my permanent residency visa tomorrow, for which I need 4 photographs. However, after today, I have to wonder if my original plan (for which I still need a printer) will even work; if they'll accept what I have, or if the red tape that my life seems to be draped in will prevent me.

When I can actually get to my classes, they require minimum brain power on my part. The professors enjoy changing hours without regard to other classes we (read: I) have, and when I try to leave early, I get lectured in front of the entire class.

I have yet to find someone even remotely like me, which means, someone with whom I can have a real conversation and doesn't consider barhopping the best way to spend a night.

I miss nature. Trees, mountains, water (the Golden Horn and Bosporus just don't cut it, you can see the other side and there's nothing water-y about them).

Everywhere I go, it seems like I go alone, which, three months in, sucks. I am so bereft of things to do in acceptable circumstances (ie., going to the Spice Market with someone) that I've finished well over a thousand pages of reading material, most of that in about three weeks, crocheted four scarves and torn two of them apart, doubled the length of the story I've been working on, and spent what has probably amounted to over a hundred hours just walking up and down Istikal.

Due to this, I don't want to devote any more than an hour to reading, have stopped wearing scarves, am second-gussing every word I write, and don't ever want to walk down Istikal again.

In short, I'm miserable, and despite there being some good things, it feels as though most of this trip so far has just been one long string of things that I have to deal with or fix, even if I can't or shouldn't have to (or both). So far, I'm not entirely sure what I've gotten out of it except seeing how long I can last in conditions like this.

m.

Don't worry, I'm still alive. Also, bureaucracy sucks here.

[Please note: this is not going to be pretty. In the end, I like Turkey more than it's going to sound.]

I think most of my current issues can be wrapped up in five words: I want to go home.

I miss green. I miss natural things.

I also miss intellectual stimulation. While three of my classes are interesting (Disaster, Istanbul Architecture, and Design Studio), they really don't require any work outside of class.

Well, that's not quite true--I have models to build in Design Studio, but that's just once a week.

Arts & Culture (when we have class) involves visiting places, which I like, but we don't go anywhere out of the ordinary. And Graphic Design is a joke. Midterms are this week, and we've had four classes. For one of those, the professor didn't show up so the TA taught (which was fine, since she's far better than the prof), and for another, the he decided that even though the entire class is international, he'd give the lecture in Turkish.

In addition, the Turkish government has decided to make some changes in the transportation, which seems to involve removing ticket booths from some (that's right, only some) MetroBus stops, meaning the only way to ride is if you have a card. Which I don't have.

Since there was no warning (Monday morning, the metal booth had vanished), I've had to depend on the kind people who do have passes, and have been trying to get my own.

I tried to go to the IETT office today to get it, but it...wasn't there. I searched the entire area. No luck.

I am not enthused. In fact, I'm quite pissed.

On a different note: pictures.

The first group is some of the cats that frequent our garden. I've become friends with many of them, and most have names.

The second is of St. Anthony of Padua Church, on Istikal cadessi.

m.