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.

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.]

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.

Things are better (yay). My classes have finally settled down (for the most part--there are still a few details that need to be pinned down, but that's it). Thank goodness.

It looks like I'll be taking 5 classes:

Graphic Design

Arts & Culture in Istanbul

Disaster & House Design

Architectural & Urban Development in Istanbul

Design Studio

Last week, my Architectural & Urban class went to an exhibit about the development of Istanbul over the last 100 years. It was very well done, and my favorite part was a scale model of Istanbul from 1950 (I failed to get any sweeping overview photos).

This last photo was from the beginning of the modern period of Istanbul(Sedad Hakki Eldem, completed 1934). I didn't much care for the building, but it made me feel like a freshman again, studying Mies and Gaudi, and wondering how people survived living and working in and around them.

I also taught myself to make Turkish coffee (with some help from Google).

I may never be the same again. This is the strongest coffee I've ever had, and everything else, I fear, will taste like water when I get back.

Oh. Another thing I learned?

Don't drink the grounds. I speak from experience.

One, they're used to tell your fortune (apparently, I have a blob in my future). Two, they don't taste very good. You would think I would have known that, but clearly I didn't.

Let's see...other than that, there really isn't anything going on. It's been raining like crazy--the amount we've gotten in the last two weeks is normally what they get in two months. It's not terrible, although it makes everything slightly damp, which is my biggest complaint now.

Three cheers for improvements!

m.