Those who are particularly astute (all...three of you) will have noticed that the keenly-named "Dramatis Personae" section has been updated! I am now firmly ensconced with family number five. Amazingly, this host family is within walking distance of two prior families. Mind you, this is walking distance as defined by somone* who no longer has a car, but does have a good pair of shoes and comfortably empy afternoons, thanks to a school that does have a noticeably laissez-faire attendence policy where exchange students are concerned. No, I am not going to tell you where that is. I am my parents' daughter, and paranoia** is about as hereditary as hemophilia.
-
*Me
** "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you." - The X-Files
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Jandarma
This Monday, Hannah from Maine*, who has actually been, um, productive this year (unlike other people I could name), had an art expedition. She's quite a good artist, and managed to both apply to and be accepted at a number of prestigious art universities in the States from here, and let me tell you, if you think managing college applications is bad Stateside, you try doing it from a 6-10 hour time difference when all your applications are roughly two foot by three foot wooden frames covered with stretched canvas and a large quantity of oil paint. Puts those essays in perspectives, eh?
Hannah lives and goes to school out in the boonies, in an area that is off the Western edge of most İstanbul maps and isn't under İstanbul polis jurisdiction. It's a forty-five minute bus ride through a nice scrub pine forest before you reach her town. I actually lived there with my second family. I spent a lot of quality time on the bus then.
Anyway, the exhibition was fabulous. Hannh did a spectacular job of showcasing the contrasts of this city. I'd love to describe the paintings, but I really wouldn't do them justice. If Hannah agrees, I can eventually post pictures (gosh, remember when this blog used to have pictures?). It was a good time, and a really wonderful opportunity to see what Hannah's been working on this year.
The really interesting part came on the way home. Remember how I mentioned that the town is outside İstanbul polis jurisdiction? It is, however, located right on the edge of a major military base. So they get the jandarma, the military polis, instead. But the jandarma are pretty twitchy about certain things like...yabanci. Foreigners. Our bus got stopped on the way out of town. They wanted to check ID. Fortunately, we all had our residency permits with us. If we hadn't...I imagine that after our Rotary handler finally extricated us, she would have killed us anyway.
This isn't the first time I've been stopped. Once in Taksim, once when I lived in that same town. Once on the servis bus on the way to school. Once on a minibus going shoe shopping with my third host mother. That time, I didn't have my papers with me - they were in my other bag. Host Mom had me scrunch down in the seat far enough that I looked like a child, too young to need identification. Got lucky with that one.
At home, we complain about being pulled over for sobriety checkpoints and needing proper identification for commerial airlines, but when you think about it, it could be so much worse...
-
* You have no idea of the effort it takes to refrain from calling her "Hannah from Montana."
Hannah lives and goes to school out in the boonies, in an area that is off the Western edge of most İstanbul maps and isn't under İstanbul polis jurisdiction. It's a forty-five minute bus ride through a nice scrub pine forest before you reach her town. I actually lived there with my second family. I spent a lot of quality time on the bus then.
Anyway, the exhibition was fabulous. Hannh did a spectacular job of showcasing the contrasts of this city. I'd love to describe the paintings, but I really wouldn't do them justice. If Hannah agrees, I can eventually post pictures (gosh, remember when this blog used to have pictures?). It was a good time, and a really wonderful opportunity to see what Hannah's been working on this year.
The really interesting part came on the way home. Remember how I mentioned that the town is outside İstanbul polis jurisdiction? It is, however, located right on the edge of a major military base. So they get the jandarma, the military polis, instead. But the jandarma are pretty twitchy about certain things like...yabanci. Foreigners. Our bus got stopped on the way out of town. They wanted to check ID. Fortunately, we all had our residency permits with us. If we hadn't...I imagine that after our Rotary handler finally extricated us, she would have killed us anyway.
This isn't the first time I've been stopped. Once in Taksim, once when I lived in that same town. Once on the servis bus on the way to school. Once on a minibus going shoe shopping with my third host mother. That time, I didn't have my papers with me - they were in my other bag. Host Mom had me scrunch down in the seat far enough that I looked like a child, too young to need identification. Got lucky with that one.
At home, we complain about being pulled over for sobriety checkpoints and needing proper identification for commerial airlines, but when you think about it, it could be so much worse...
-
* You have no idea of the effort it takes to refrain from calling her "Hannah from Montana."
Children's Day
So* Children's Day is tomorrow. I know. I can hardly stand the suspense.
Precisely what Children's Day entails seems to be up for grabs. Several sources have informed me that there is school tomorrow. Others seem to think (or perhaps hope) that there isn't. The sources I've consulted (foreign-language teachers) don't know and aren't asking, on the hopes that they won't explicitly told that they need to come to school, and can therefore take the day off.
One such source was the Polish English teacher. Back before the Iron Curtain fell with a thud*, she told me, Poland had Children's Day, too - a special holiday just for little Worker Children. Because, they were told, the Communist government loved children!
I remember, back in elementary school, my classmates used to ask why, in the name of equality, there was a Mother's Day and a Father's Day but not a Children's Day as well. I also remember the teacher telling us that every day was Children's Day and we should be quiet and finish our juiceboxes.
I suggested (jokingly!) that our Capitalist system just didn't love children as much.
The teacher shrugged. "That's what they told us."
-
* I seem to be starting posts this way a lot. Note to self: stop.
** Okay, I may have paraphrased.
Precisely what Children's Day entails seems to be up for grabs. Several sources have informed me that there is school tomorrow. Others seem to think (or perhaps hope) that there isn't. The sources I've consulted (foreign-language teachers) don't know and aren't asking, on the hopes that they won't explicitly told that they need to come to school, and can therefore take the day off.
One such source was the Polish English teacher. Back before the Iron Curtain fell with a thud*, she told me, Poland had Children's Day, too - a special holiday just for little Worker Children. Because, they were told, the Communist government loved children!
I remember, back in elementary school, my classmates used to ask why, in the name of equality, there was a Mother's Day and a Father's Day but not a Children's Day as well. I also remember the teacher telling us that every day was Children's Day and we should be quiet and finish our juiceboxes.
I suggested (jokingly!) that our Capitalist system just didn't love children as much.
The teacher shrugged. "That's what they told us."
-
* I seem to be starting posts this way a lot. Note to self: stop.
** Okay, I may have paraphrased.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Oops.
In which meal options take a turn for the tubular.
In my general and endearing absentmindedness, I managed today to forget to go to lunch. It happens. (When I was with Third Host Family, on occasions that both parents had to work late, I frequently forgot to eat dinner). So I went down to the kantin at 2:40 to find some grub, hopefully my standard lite tost and ayran.
What I found - all that was left to find - was a chilly sosis (hot dog) and a package of Tutku cookies.
That'll teach me to forget about lunch.
In my general and endearing absentmindedness, I managed today to forget to go to lunch. It happens. (When I was with Third Host Family, on occasions that both parents had to work late, I frequently forgot to eat dinner). So I went down to the kantin at 2:40 to find some grub, hopefully my standard lite tost and ayran.
What I found - all that was left to find - was a chilly sosis (hot dog) and a package of Tutku cookies.
That'll teach me to forget about lunch.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Bueller? Bueller?
Hypothetically speaking...supposing you're trying to explain to the school servis bus goon that you're not taking the servis home, but instead taking a city bus to Kadıköy. Does anyone know the Türkçe for "I appreciate that you generally work with elementary schoolers, but for heaven's sake, I am nineteen and I am living more or less independently in a foreign country. No, you bloody well do not need a note from my host mother if I want to go somewhere after school. Capise?"
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Go. See. Read.
Strange Horizons has reprinted Theodore Sturgeon's classic SF short story, "The Man Who Lost the Sea."
Go. Read. Now.
Go. Read. Now.
The Stink.
Yesterday my servis bus home from school took a new route home in an effort to beat the traffic near the first bridge (when there are two bridges connecting the halves of a metropolis of 13 milion people, you'd better believe that there's a lot of traffic). The detour took us through a hilly, high-class subdivision.
Which had apparently just suffered a sewer line break. At the top of a very high hill.
The aphorisms are true. All of them.
Which had apparently just suffered a sewer line break. At the top of a very high hill.
The aphorisms are true. All of them.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
CAKE
Last night, two cakes were baked. Well. Improvised. As tends to happen with my forays into the kitchen.
The first was supposed to be an apple-pear cake, but a dearth of pears turned it into an apple-apple cake. I've made it before (with pears) and love it - it's a light, simple pastry easily adapted to fit any fruit (or vegetable, one supposes) on hand. I can't wait until strawberries and peaches are in season. Mmm. The recipe is from Bread and Honey.
Apple-Pear Cake
So we made another one!
The recipe was for a lemon cake pulled from Under the Tuscan Sun, but a general lack of lemons threatened to put a kibosh on that plan...so between an orange we found in the crisper and half a lemon in a belljar in the cheese drawer, we improvised and made a citrus cake instead. The recipe called for buttermilk, which isn't available here, but we checked the Internet and came up with a substition: one and half tablespoons of lemon juice added to one cup of warm milk = one cup of buttermilk (last time I made this, I just substituted one cup of plain yogurt, resulting something rather like cheesecake).
Lemon [or other available citrus fruit] Cake
The first was supposed to be an apple-pear cake, but a dearth of pears turned it into an apple-apple cake. I've made it before (with pears) and love it - it's a light, simple pastry easily adapted to fit any fruit (or vegetable, one supposes) on hand. I can't wait until strawberries and peaches are in season. Mmm. The recipe is from Bread and Honey.
Apple-Pear Cake
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) + 1 tbsp. butter
- 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp. baking powder
- 1/4 tsp. salt
- 1 medium apple
- 1 medium pear
- 3/4 cup sugar
- 2 large eggs
- Preheat oven to 350 F. Melt butter in small saucepan or in microwave. Grease nonstick 8-inch round cake pan (not springform [ed. note - springform is fine]) with butter.
- Combine flour, baking powder, salt in small mixing bowl. Wash, peel, and core fruit. Cut into eights and arrange in bottom of pan.
- In medium mixing bowl, whisk sugar with eggs until fluffy. Add flour mixture and whisk until combined. Add melted butter. Whisk until blended. Pour evenly and bake for 35-40 minutes, until top is set and golden brown [ed. note - emphasis on the brown].
So we made another one!
The recipe was for a lemon cake pulled from Under the Tuscan Sun, but a general lack of lemons threatened to put a kibosh on that plan...so between an orange we found in the crisper and half a lemon in a belljar in the cheese drawer, we improvised and made a citrus cake instead. The recipe called for buttermilk, which isn't available here, but we checked the Internet and came up with a substition: one and half tablespoons of lemon juice added to one cup of warm milk = one cup of buttermilk (last time I made this, I just substituted one cup of plain yogurt, resulting something rather like cheesecake).
Lemon [or other available citrus fruit] Cake
- 1 cup sweet butter
- 2 cup sugar
- 3 eggs
- 3 cups flour
- 1 tsp. baking powder
- 1/4 tsp. salt
- 1 cup buttermilk
- 3 tblsp. lemon juice [ed. note - or orange juice]
- zest of one lemon [ed. note - or orange - the half lemon we juiced for the buttermilk substituion was too emaciated to zest]
- Cream together butter and sugar. Beat in eggs, one at a time [ed. note - if you're forgetful and add them all at once, the finished product is not ruined].
- Mix together flour, baking powder, and salt. Incorporate with butter mixture alternately with buttermilk. Begin and end with flour mixture.
- Add lemon zest and juice.
- Bake in tube pan [ed. note - or whatever] at 300 F for 50 minutes. Test for doneness with a toothpick.
And of course there's a glaze you're supposed to do, but we didn't have an confectioner's sugar, so never mind that.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Easter, Etc.
Firstly, you all should amble on over to Maeghan's Easter post, which features lovely tulip pictures (which - ahem - I took with her camera because mine is still out of commission). Also, the word "tons" spelled "tonnes," which always makes me laugh.
The weekend was uneventful. On Saturday, Maeghan and I trekked to Bakırköy and window-shopped. Sunday, I spent the day with Third Host Family, which was fabulous. I got there at noon, just in time for breakfast - when I lived there, no one stirred before 11:30 on a Sunday; it's nice to see things stay the same - and visited friends of theirs. Then to a bazaar for vegetables (carrots and lettuce and eggplant and cucumber and strawberries and pears, oh my!) and a brief stop at the best baklava/ciğ köfte place in the world ever. No exaggeration. Then back to the house to make mondo salads and soup and about eight different desserts (sweet tooths? Us? Nah) and Flight of the Conchords on CNBC-e.
No eggs were involved, but it was a very good Easter.
No eggs were involved, but it was a very good Easter.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Snorgle...
So I was chatting with some teachers at my school. Erinn the Canadian accidentally dropped a bad word, and (noting that I was present) began apologizing profusely."Don't worry about it," I chirped, "I'm legal in Saskatchewan."
Her jaw dropped. "You're nineteen?!"
...oh, and I read Twilight today. Creeepers. Good lord, girl, grow some agency.
Her jaw dropped. "You're nineteen?!"
...oh, and I read Twilight today. Creeepers. Good lord, girl, grow some agency.
Ignore the little grinning chipmunk-person-thing behind the curtain, if you would...
Yeah, so apparently Maeghan thought she'd be clever. Clearly, she did not quite succeed. Feel free to head over here and tell her so. Loudly.
Ahem. Anyway.
On Tuesday...Fernanda and I had an Expedition to apply for student akbils - basically, super-duper bus passes with nice discounts (which we should have gotten much, much earlier from, say, Rotary - but oh well). We started in Kadıköy and wound up walking almost to Acıbadem (just...trust me. That's a ways), navigating by a highly effective accost-a-stranger method and recieving directions along the lines of "turn left at the cow statue and go past the mosque. No, the other mosque." But we got there. Eventually. And now we need to go pick up our akbils next week!
Thursday, Maeghan the Canadian (doesn't that just roll trippingly off the tongue?) and I had an Expedition to pay for the upcoming trip (WOOOO!!). Which meant Taksim. Which meant going from ATM to ATM in Taksim trying to find one that dispensed US dollars, because that was how the travel agency preferred to be paid (Turkish liras were accepted, too, but with a definite "well, if we must" air). Last time I had to pay for a trip, I managed to withdraw the whole amount in one go. This time, the bank was apparently feeling a little persnickity, because it cut me off at something like $500 USD + change. Relatedly, someone remind me that I owe Maeghan $200 USD and a box of Cheerios (interest).
Although if she keeps hacking my blog...hmmm.
And from their we tripped to the post office in Taksim so she could mail home a package (sorry, friends. I don't love you enough to mail stuff home. Seriously, I could eat for three months on what it would cost. This should be considered further proof that Maeghan the Canadian is a vastly nicer person than I am. Except when she hacks my blog). And at the post office, we had the usual "Where are you from?"/"I'm Canadian, she's American" schtick, followed by the usual "Obama good! Bush bad!" routine and a few clerks trying to describe their opinions on the current bailout plans. Dude. I am not my country. I am not my president. I didn't vote for either of the aforementioned heads of state* and I haven't watched FOX News in ten months. I am not a walking foreign policy suggestions box. Everytime Maeghan complains that no one knows about Canada, I point out that she's never had a take-out guy refuse to hand over her food before she'd heard his opinions regarding the Bloc Québécois. Or, say, Gitmo.
...Right. So. Maeghan mailed a package, and we took a rickety tram down İstiklal Caddesi, walked past Galata Tower, and took another tram to Eminonü to hit a bazaar in the underground pass-through connecting the tram and subway so Maeghan could buy a pair of shoes and settle a bet with her host family. Something about being able to buy a replacement pair of go-everywhere shoes for $15 TL or less. Mission was a success, and now Maeghan can consign to the dumpster her prior pair, which were no longer so much "shoes" as "husks."
Stinky husks.
And from there, we rendevouzed back to Maeghan's host family's flat, armed with cookies and juice boxes from the market outside (yes, we are seven years old) and settled down to watch The Daily Show.
Good day.
And if any of you see Maeghan, kindly inform her that she is getting her camera back never.
-
* I tried to vote by absentee ballot, but it turns out that there's a three-day window wherein you can't change your overseas address to do so - and I was moved to my second family during that window.
Ahem. Anyway.
On Tuesday...Fernanda and I had an Expedition to apply for student akbils - basically, super-duper bus passes with nice discounts (which we should have gotten much, much earlier from, say, Rotary - but oh well). We started in Kadıköy and wound up walking almost to Acıbadem (just...trust me. That's a ways), navigating by a highly effective accost-a-stranger method and recieving directions along the lines of "turn left at the cow statue and go past the mosque. No, the other mosque." But we got there. Eventually. And now we need to go pick up our akbils next week!
Thursday, Maeghan the Canadian (doesn't that just roll trippingly off the tongue?) and I had an Expedition to pay for the upcoming trip (WOOOO!!). Which meant Taksim. Which meant going from ATM to ATM in Taksim trying to find one that dispensed US dollars, because that was how the travel agency preferred to be paid (Turkish liras were accepted, too, but with a definite "well, if we must" air). Last time I had to pay for a trip, I managed to withdraw the whole amount in one go. This time, the bank was apparently feeling a little persnickity, because it cut me off at something like $500 USD + change. Relatedly, someone remind me that I owe Maeghan $200 USD and a box of Cheerios (interest).
Although if she keeps hacking my blog...hmmm.
And from their we tripped to the post office in Taksim so she could mail home a package (sorry, friends. I don't love you enough to mail stuff home. Seriously, I could eat for three months on what it would cost. This should be considered further proof that Maeghan the Canadian is a vastly nicer person than I am. Except when she hacks my blog). And at the post office, we had the usual "Where are you from?"/"I'm Canadian, she's American" schtick, followed by the usual "Obama good! Bush bad!" routine and a few clerks trying to describe their opinions on the current bailout plans. Dude. I am not my country. I am not my president. I didn't vote for either of the aforementioned heads of state* and I haven't watched FOX News in ten months. I am not a walking foreign policy suggestions box. Everytime Maeghan complains that no one knows about Canada, I point out that she's never had a take-out guy refuse to hand over her food before she'd heard his opinions regarding the Bloc Québécois. Or, say, Gitmo.
...Right. So. Maeghan mailed a package, and we took a rickety tram down İstiklal Caddesi, walked past Galata Tower, and took another tram to Eminonü to hit a bazaar in the underground pass-through connecting the tram and subway so Maeghan could buy a pair of shoes and settle a bet with her host family. Something about being able to buy a replacement pair of go-everywhere shoes for $15 TL or less. Mission was a success, and now Maeghan can consign to the dumpster her prior pair, which were no longer so much "shoes" as "husks."
Stinky husks.
And from there, we rendevouzed back to Maeghan's host family's flat, armed with cookies and juice boxes from the market outside (yes, we are seven years old) and settled down to watch The Daily Show.
Good day.
And if any of you see Maeghan, kindly inform her that she is getting her camera back never.
-
* I tried to vote by absentee ballot, but it turns out that there's a three-day window wherein you can't change your overseas address to do so - and I was moved to my second family during that window.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
I Am Not Carly
I don't know how it happened (actually, I do..) but I (Maeghan) went to sign into my blog and it signed into Carly's. So, since Carly doesn't blog enough anyway...
HELLO WORLD! Today Carly stole my camera. She should give it back so I can upload photos to share with both you (Carly's readers) and my readers.
I'm sure Carly is happy right now, as long as she didn't get attacked by a werewolf on her way home. It is a full moon, after all. These things do happen.
Love from me, the one and only-
Canadia.
HELLO WORLD! Today Carly stole my camera. She should give it back so I can upload photos to share with both you (Carly's readers) and my readers.
I'm sure Carly is happy right now, as long as she didn't get attacked by a werewolf on her way home. It is a full moon, after all. These things do happen.
Love from me, the one and only-
Canadia.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Dear laptop: please wake up.
So it turns out that in my laptop (a Dell XPS M1330 running Vista, in case you're interested), there is a video card. This video card is vitally important to keep the machine running smoothly, or indeed running at all.
And when this video card fails...it sucks. Because the video card failing means that the motherboard fries like bacon in a pan, and the machine won't boot at all, and perhaps your camera's memory card is full, and you cannot take any more pictures until you get the pictures transferred to someone's computer and burned to DVD. And then you're on the phone with Dell tech support, trying to convince them that yes, your warranty bloody well does say they have an obligation to fix it.
(The fun part, though, is when they look at your area code and say, "Hey, is that in Houston?")
(Close...but no cigar)
In other news...Maeghan the Canadian, Blase (Michigan), and I saw a production of Avenue Q a weekend or so ago. Mind you, it was in Turkish, and some things just didn't quite translate. For instance, in there's a song where Kate Monster exclaims over the mix tape that Princeton has made for her. In the English show, this song is aptly titled "Mix Tape." In the Turkish version, it was "Karaşık CD," which does more or less translates to "compilation CD" but somehow doesn't have quite the same ring to it. For rhyming purposes, the song "My Girlfriend who Lives in Canada" had been converted to "My Girlfriend who Lives in Texas" (much to Maeghan's dismay).
But it was still a good show. The pictures below are from Maeghan's Facebook, as mine are still trapped on my camera (grrr). Anyway! At Avenue Q (Maeghan, did you sneeze taking mine?):
Plus there's been the normal sort of tramping around. To, for instance, Galata Tower:
Or...dancing on the utterly interminable steps leading up to Galata Tower:
A passing Austrian tourist gave me a thumbs-up.
But it turns out that hotlinking to Facebook images is a pain, so expect this blog to be wee bit less photo-heavy until I can bully my way past Dell triage.
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