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.

I saw 44 pairs of Converse on the bus today.

And that was the best part of my day.

My architecture courses:

Tuesday, 14,00 (that's 2:00): Disaster & House Design

Wednesday, 12,00: Urban & Architectural Development of Istanbul

Wednesday, 15,00: Design Concept Research in Architecture

Friday, 13,00: Computer Aided Presentation Techniques

Plus a Studio course. Since I'm not a traditional architecture student, Elif (my advisor) decided it would be better for me to take a Level I, which she hadn't looked at (time/day).

I should also note that the official Kültür architecture website has totally different times. The ones listed are those that were on my handwritten schedule from Elif.

Tuesday.

Arrive at 9, because that's when the website says the class starts.

I spent 15 minutes looking for the room (materials lab, basement 2). The woman at the front desk (who speaks next to no English) didn't know, so she called the International office. They couldn't tell me either, and said I should come up to the office.

I did.

I got a map.

I went to the room. It had "mimarl1k" ("architecture") and "2" on the door.

I went in.

Twenty-five minutes after the class began, the professor walked in (there isn't any of that "20 minutes, no prof, no class" here). She took one look at me and said "You know this class isn't in English, right?"

One of the students helped me find the room where the English architecture course was happening. The lecture was starting. In Turkish. I was then told that the English course started at 13.

All fine. A bit irritating, but it was all my fault.

The prof tells us that there are Turkish students that want to take the English version, but they have class at 13, so we'll start at 11:30. (Not important now, but just wait).

Wednesday.

Arrive at 12. Professor shows up and explains that, even though the lecture is supposed to start at 12, no self-respecting Turkish person eats lunch at any time other than 12, and can we start at 12:40?

Well, after waiting 4 hours on Tuesday, 40 minutes was no big deal.

While waiting, I emailed Elif about my Studio course. I can't find it online, and, after some of the disasters I've experienced and heard about, I figure it would just be better if she told me when things were.

Our Development prof asks us if we can switch the class to Friday mornings. Not a problem.

There is one other international student, Henrietta, in the class, from Sweden. She's very sweet, and is also in the Computer Techniques class.

She tells me it's been moved to Tuesday.

At noon.

Right after Development, I head over to my Design class. I'm 10 minutes late, and there's...no one there.

People show up late to class all the time, but there is no sign of life in this room. Or the hallway.

I walk over to Elif's office to talk to her. The other women there tell me she didn't come in today, don't know where she is or when she'll be back, and can't tell me anything about the Design class I'm supposed to be late for, but apparently am not.

I gave up and came home, counting Converse.

Five to two classes in one day.

If the only thing were that the profs changed the days and times (to a day/time that worked for people, and they found out by, oh, I don't know, asking), that would be different.

But what really pisses me off is that they change it all before the course starts and just expect their students to know. But now, I can't take Computer Techniques, and I didn't get any input. And I don't know when my Design class is to have any input.

I know for some people, it's not as big of a deal. They're not working towards a degree; these are all fun classes. But I need my courses. "Need" as in: if I can't pull this off, or something that kind-of-sort-of-maybe-in-an-alternate-reality works, I don't think I can graduate on time. I'm sure it will all work out (not on its own, though. I think extreme dentistry my be required on my part), but this is beyond the bounds of sanity. I mean, this is an [expletive] university.

m.