C'est la Vie

Merhaba arkadaslarim! (Hello my friends)

Six months. Six months since the wheels of my plane lifted from the Istanbul runway, only to land on that of New York eleven hours later. Six months since I bid my family and friends goodbye, not knowing when I would have the chance to see them again. Long story short, I miss Turkey terribly. I simit, baklava, borek, dolmuslar, my school, the not-quite-orange trees lining the streets of Aydin, the bustling main boulevard, the sea in Izmir, and on and on. I miss the warm feeling I got when I spoke Turkish, I miss feeling at home in this country that I had met mere months before. I love being home, I do. I love my country, and my heart lies here always. But a part of that heart was left in Turkey on June 12th when I took off. Now, at the end of 2014, with Christmas just passed, and a new year, one full of new experiences, starting in five days, I have decided the time has come to open up about what happened to send me to Aydin from Kayseri exactly one year ago. Read my story, think what you want about it. I learned a great deal from this experience.

I spent three weeks with my first host family. The first three weeks of my exchange year were terribly lonely. My family was extremely kind and welcoming, but the inevitable homesickness and language barrier had engulfed me like a tidal wave does a baby turtle. With a lot of Harry Potter I was getting through though! Until that fateful Friday morning. I had been woken up by the powerful wind and was lying in bed contemplating life when my phone started buzzing with an incoming call. I picked up and was greeted by the voice of my liaison's husband telling me to pack my things and be out of the house in one hour. He would not explain why, simply saying "you need to change host families right now." I hung up and walked downstairs to see if my host mother knew anything about what was happening. What I received as an explanation was a quick word I did to understand and a finger pointing upstairs to pack. I didn't have time to be sad. My anger bubbled up into my throat as the woman who had promised to care for me stuffed my things into my bags haphazardly. She bagged the gifts I had given them, placed my bags in the hall, and shut the door in my face. The woman who the night before had joked and laughed with me set me outside still in my pajamas without a second thought. As I walked downstairs and got into the car of another exchange student's host mother the grief hit me. I sobbed and sobbed as I realized all I had expected and wanted were falling to pieces within one hour. My friend and I made pancakes and sausage for breakfast. We watched TV and spent a few hours in a very comforting "American-style." And then my liaison arrived. I got in her car without a clue as to where I was going, and then it hit. The accusations. The assumptions. My host mother had called at midnight the evening before, apparently crying with a story of looking into my room and watching me strip for a boy on Skype. She said she watched me for four minutes. She named a boy from school, and said I needed to be out of the house by nine the next morning. My liaison did not ask me if this was true. She told me what I had supposedly done. She related to me with quiet confidence a story she assumed to be true because of my "youth." To clear up any confusion, I did not do what I was accused of. I had spent the evening speaking to Jeeda, my Jordanian sister, and my friend who was in Morocco at the time. I had been listening to music and watching Youtube occasionally. Then the internet had shut off, and I went to bed. What my host mother told my program was a blatant lie, and my liaison, the one person who was supposed to support me at all times, abandoned my trust. I was furious and heartbroken. But I moved on. I spent the weekend with a family who I will stay in touch with for the rest of my life. My host sister holds an extraordinarily special place in my heart, and I will be forever thankful to them for their kindness. Two days later I was moved to my second host family, and the second adventure waiting for me would soon begin.

My second host family had successfully hosted another YES student the year before me. This, and the fact that they are best friends, gave my liaison hope that it would work out. But she told me not to tell them what had happened in my first family, which left them wondering why I had left so suddenly. This added to my liaison telling them to restrict my internet access and my ability to see my friends left them suspicious and questioning of me; not a very solid basis to start a relationship. Three weeks into my stay there (what is with this number??) my host mother stopped talking to me. I should have asked what was wrong. I should have been open to communication. But I was shy and unsure of my ability to be a good exchange student. So I kept quiet. I tried to speak to her. I tried to be kind and helpful. She responded with cold looks and huffy sounds. My host sister soon followed suit in her own way, berating me daily about my supposed stupidness and ignorance. My emotional well-being deteriorated fast. I was restricted from participating in a volunteer program I had found, and I was losing interest in getting to know the country I was living in. I called my mom back home one day and got the story out between heart wrenching sobs. She took action as warrior mommy, encouraged me to do the same, and together we pressured AFS to move me to a different city. As we waited for a response we discussed other options. My Jordanian sister's family in Amman was excited and willing to host me, and if I had said the word, I could have been on a plane over there in an instant. When I was told AFS would move me to Aydin within two weeks, I had a decision to make. Jordan where I had people who already considered me part of their family, or Turkey, where I didn't know a person in the new city I would be in. I chose Turkey. I chose Turkey for the language, for the program, for the group of Americans that were like my family, for the commitment I had made, and for the excitement with which I had arrived three months later. My host family did not react kindly to the news of my departure. They accused me of running away, questioning my ability to do well in my chosen area of work (politics) if all I did was run during hard times. I didn't have the emotional stability to tell them whole truth. That what they had put me into a depressed state. That the thought of staying with them and my host mother's coldness made me sure I would be depressed beyond easy repair. I did not want to be completely honest with them, because I still had to live with them for a week before I went to Aydin. So I kept it in. We spent the week in relatively good spirits. They took the opportunity to tell me all the things I had done wrong, and all the reasons their first exchange student was better than me, but with my upcoming departure I didn't let it get to me. My host mother informed me of the things I had done wrong to make her ignore me, chief of them being the fact that I was too quiet. I will refrain from commenting on this. There are not so nice words I could use for this story, but I have left them behind now. So, on December 22, 2013, I boarded a plane in Kayseri and landed three hours later in Aydin. The rest is now history. All that I had wanted at the beginning and more was found in those last five and a half months in Turkey. My love for the country grew to an unbelievable size, and my appreciation for those I encountered will remain with me forever. I found out towards the end of my time there that the lie of me stripping for the boy on Skype had probably been put up to cover the truth; the host grandfather did not like my lack of religion. This solidified my commitment to begin open about who I am, although it still took me a few months to open up about my Atheism to my third family.

What happened in Turkey was hard at times. There were scars that I had to recover from, namely the fear that I would do something, anything, wrong that would anger my third family. This fear stayed with me up until the end. But the decision to stay in Turkey was the best decision of my life.

That is my story. It was not a straightforward year, it was not what I had expected, but I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy Holidays,
Izzy

My goodbye part at school

My mom gave me my very own Kina Gecesi because I had been unable to attend one before I left

Learned how to make pogaca!

Humanity-it's everywhere

Merhaba!
     If this year has taught me anything, it is that no matter what a person's beliefs are, no matter which political party they support, generosity and kindness can come from anyone. I have been on the receiving end of an unbelievable amount of kindness this year, and I look around everyday in awe that I am able to experience it.
     Last weekend my German teacher took my to a small village outside of Aydin to eat a pre-wedding lunch. Twelve years ago she taught in the village, and the groom was the school's principal's son. The food we ate is explained below, I will just say now that it was DELICIOUS. I love food of all kinds, and Turkish food made in the villages is to die for. We unfortunately were forced to choose between the food and the celebrations later that night, and we decided to eat the food. My teacher's reasoning was that I had seen dancing before, but the food was a one time opportunity. I happily agreed!
     During the meal my teacher recognized one of her old students, and she began to speak with him and his family. When they found out I was an American exchange student they insisted on dressing me up in the pants and the head scarf that the middle aged and older women wear for comfort. Before we left they gave me the clothes as a gift as a way to remember them. Below are some of the pictures we took. The well water shown was beautiful and clear, and it made me miss the well we had when I was little. I was also able to hold a ten day old puppy who fell asleep against my chest. It's little paws, the eyes that had still not opened, and the little snuffing sounds it made melted my heart straight through. After the puppy I visited an old lady in the magnificent garden she had planted by hand and spoke to her about her life. She came from Austria during the second world war, and has lived in Turkey since then. Turkey is like the U.S.A. of Europe and the Middle East. There are people from almost every country who have moved here, or whose family moved here, and who now call themselves Turkish. With their pattern of passivity in wars, Turkey has continuously been a safe haven for those escaping dangerous countries. The interesting thing is that no one asks Turkish people where their families are from. If they say they are Turkish, they are Turkish. But when I say that I am American, one of the first questions I get is "where is your family from?" Due to the widely known fact that America is the mixing pot of cultures, simply saying I am American is not enough. This topic has no connection with my day in the village, but I thought it was interesting.
     The people I met in the village were some of the nicest I have experienced. I hope I can visit them again some day, but if not, they will always have a place in my heart, and my memory.
Xoxo, Isabel

Pumping water

The food I ate in the village;
Yuvarlama - meat and flour rolled into ovals and cooked. A tomato based broth is poured over it, and yogurt/ yogurt with garlic is served with it.,
Soup - A tomato based broth (again) with thin, dough pieces in it.
Semolina helva - A desert made from semolina. It is slightly grainy, but sweet.
  Keskek - Wheat and sometimes chicken mixed together into a mush type mixture. While slightly odd at first, it is delicious. Usually served with rice.
 Kuru fasulye - White beans and vegetables in a tomato based brother.
 Meat - Lamb
 Kizartma - Potatoes and vegetables baked in olive oil.

A ten day old puppy

Istanbul is NOT Constantinople

Merhaba!
     Istanbul. We all know the name, we all know the stories. The legendary city that straddles two continents, has been the host of numerous cultures, and displays modern apartment buildings next to ancient castles. Founded in 660 BC under the name Byzantium, it transitioned to Constantinople in 330 AD, after which it served as the capital city of four empires; the Roman (330-395), the Byzantine (395-1204 and 1261-1453), the Latin (1204-1261), and the Ottoman(1453-1922). When the Ottomans conquered the city in 1453, the name was changed to Istanbul, which has remained to this day. Everyone sees a different picture when they hear the name Istanbul- Islam, history, culture, crowded, etc.- but one thing is sure; Istanbul is much more complicated than any person can truly understand.
     My Turkish school plans a trip every year for the eleventh grade classes to Istanbul for visiting universities. The teachers who plan it are incredibly cool and add sightseeing and free time into it as well. I did not hesitate before paying the three hundred and third-five Turkish lira for the trip, for how can I proudly leave this country if I've not seen Istanbul? It was a short and exhausting weekend. A twelve hour bus ride there and back, touring all day, every day, and staying up and talking to my friends every night. Every time we boarded the bus I took the free time to sleep, and as a result I have a very attractive picture of my fantastic new double chin (my hair looks great in the picture though!).
     I will study in the U.S. for university, but visiting the schools in Istanbul was a good opportunity for me to think about spending a semester there in college. We visited Bogaziçi, Koç, Yeditepe, Bahçesehir, and Istanbul Technical University. All five are among the best in Istanbul.
     To save y'all from a second-to-second explanation of my trip, I am posting pictures and descriptions about the famous sights we visited. Istanbul is not for everyone. It's big, sprawling, confusing, and has absolutely horrid traffic. The culture, however, is enough to make the other aspects unimportant for some people. Before visiting, you can truly have no idea how you will react to it, and three days is not nearly enough. I will be back some day!

The Blue Mosque (in Turkish Sultanahment Camii) is the largest mosque in Turkey. No other mosque is permitted to have six spires, for the honor is reserved for the Blue Mosque. It was built between 1609 and 1616 during the rule of Ahmed I.  The english name derives from the blue tiled walls inside the mosque. The Turkish name is in respect for Sultan Ahment, and located in the mosque is his tomb. With the arching domes and multiple chandeliers, the mosque is filled with light... and tourists.

The Hagia Sofia is a sacred center for both Christians and Muslims alike. A Greek Orthodox patriarchal basilica from 537 to 1453, in 1453 it was converted into an imperial mosque. In 1935, after Turkey became secular, the building was turned into a museum in an attempt to make it equal for both religions.

If you were watching the news last summer you are aware of the protests that took place across Turkey. The park behind me in the picture above was where the protests started when a group of police officers attacked protesters protesting the plans to cut down the park for a mall. As the news hit the streets, the protests grew and grew, and eventually encompassed the entire nation, and kicked off an anti-Erdogan (the prime minister) sentiment that has increased as time passes. Being a few months away from my departure to Turkey, I followed the news closely, and being in the 'scene of the crime' was on my bucket list. In front of the park is Taksim Square, famous for its shops, clubs, and old red tram. In both the square and the park there are tiles missing, lamps broken, smoke marks, and missing glass panels from the barriers. It was difficult to imagine the square filled with tear gas and water hoses, but reminders lie all around if you look for them.

The Bosphorus bridge connects the European and Asian continents. The simple, sleek style makes for beautiful pictures, and attracts the attention of thousands of visitors.

The boat tour of the Bosphorus that we took mere hours before our departure to Aydin.  It was one of the only periods of time during the weekend that it was not raining cats and dogs. We were lucky!

The Basilica Cistern is located near the Hagia Sofia. It is a vast, underground cistern, hosting rows upon rows of columns. In the back northwest corner lie two column bases carved into the face of Medusa. One is placed upside down, the other on its side. Visitors walk upon a stone walkway placed above water and fish. When filled with tourists the cistern is spectacular, but if alone I imagine it would be spine crawlingly creepy. 

As I mentioned above, Taksim Square is famous for the old tram that runs along the length of Istiklal Boulevard. It is actually quite dangerous, as pedestrians wander across the train tracks regularly and the din of the crowd can often cover up the sound of the tram. 

The Bosphorus bridge at night. The colors change every few minutes!

Inside the Blue Mosque. It was beautiful inside, the walls covered in blue tiles, the chandeliers hanging throughout the building, but it was crowded with tourists, which made it feel more like a museum than a holy sight. 

Topkapi Palace was the primary palace of the Ottoman Empire between 1465-1856.  At its peak the palace housed 4,000 people. It is now a museum, and was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985. Being an incredibly strong empire, the Ottomans had no need to show their strength through buildings, with the result that Topkapi is rather simple. The rooms are filled with important relics of the period, including one of the world's largest diamonds, and Muhammed's cloak and sword. 

Dolmabahçe Palace served as the main location of the Ottoman Empire from 1856 to 1922.  It is located in the Besiktas section of Istanbul on the European side of the Bosphorus. As the Ottoman Empire's power was decreasing, the rulers felt the need to show their strength to the world by building a palace in the grand style of Europe. Completed in nine years, the palace is complete with a harem, a gate for boats, and a large hall for guests. In the hall hangs a chandelier that has so many pieces, that it takes two months to clean. As women were not allowed in any public political affairs at the time, an upstairs section was walled off, and fitted with grated windows for them to watch through. It was in this palace in 1938 that Atatürk died, and we were led through his bedroom by our tour guide. 

Love the unexpected

Merhaba!
     My time in Turkey has taught me that not knowing what is going on is OK. I almost never truly know what my next plan is, and I have gotten home multiple times, simply to be picked right up again and driven somewhere else. I make plans for the day, plans that are derailed as I step out onto the street, surrendering myself to the whims of Turkey. If you are a future exchange student reading this, and you, like me before I arrived, enjoy escaping mixups by planning everything, sorry to tell you, but you're out of luck darling. Expect the unexpected when it comes to exchange, and bask in the glory of every beautiful moment you live in your host country.
     While the Turkish Hamam may be the most famous part of Turkey known to foreigners, it is not loved greatly by the Turkish people I know. On the contrary, some people dismiss them as dirty and awkward. Due to this, I had not attended one in the six and a half months since arriving, and I was desperate to do so. Despite my interest, a more pressing matter was that of waxing, and my exchange friends in Izmir referred me to a hamam they had been to. I set off last Saturday morning to infer about my needs, with no thoughts of actually entering the hamam section of the building. I was going to meet my friends later, and didn't want to be late. After walking to the wrong part of the city, I called my friend, walked to another part of the city, and eventually reached the hamam.

The Hosgor Hamam in Karatas, Izmir

     I entered the building with absolutely no idea what to expect. There were women wrapped in towels resting after the hot steam and water, a constant chatter between friends and the women working, the sounds of chairs being moved, of the running water in the next room. I stood by the little window looking into the office, and was attended by an older woman. While I can speak Turkish, I am not perfect, so I proceeded to ask in broken up sentences if they did waxing. The woman confirmed that they did, and led me upstairs to a small room to change. The room was about four by seven feet, had a rickety metal cot, a wooden stool, one size for all sandals, and chipped walls. I was handed a checked wrap, and told to wear only that, so I did. I undressed, wrapped myself in the towel, put sandals on, and headed downstairs. I was pointed to a room in the corner of the building, and when I opened the door, was greeted by the sight of a naked woman being waxed on every part of her body. I lay down on the opposite bed (with a cry of surprise from the woman when I took my wrap off. I guess I wasn't supposed to get completely undressed :P ), and waited for the torture I had heard about for years to begin. I will not go into detail for you. I made myself think of every hero in the books I have read, and the painful endeavors they have gone through, to get myself through it. I braced my hands on the walls, I cried out "Allah'im!!!!"/"Ohmygod!!!!" and almost had a panic attack when the woman attending me wanted to take more off. For all the pain, though, it is worth it. Absolutely worth it!
     After the waxing was finished, I was instructed to wrap myself up, and follow the woman. I guess they just decided to put my through the whole treatment, because I was placed in the hamam next to bowl of running water, and a plastic tray to dump it on myself. I sat contentedly for about thirty minutes, pouring the warm water over the stinging parts of my body, and wondering whether or not I was going to faint from the heat. The same woman who had waxed me then took me into a side room, and performed a three step cleansing process. She began by rubbing a rough scrub over my entire body, taking off the dead skin (there was A LOT more than I thought there was going to be). She then scrubbed me down with a scrubby full of delicious smelling soap, and then rubbed it in with her hands, massaging every part of my body. I was given water, and promised the woman to let her know when I got a boyfriend (she was worried that I was seventeen and didn't have a boyfriend, or anyone close to one). The whole package turned out to be thirty-six Turkish Lira, about fifteen dollars. That's less than one session to wax just the bottom half of your legs in the U.S.! These Turkish prices have turned me into a money hog, and I don't think I will like it when I get back home.
     After my unexpected two hour stay at the hamam, I was late to meet my friends, and I'm pretty sure they were complaining about it :D But they understood once I explained to them, and it made me accept the fact that I do not always have to be perfectly on time. It is better if I am, but the world will not end if I'm not!
     While the massage and water was great, the part that affected me the most was a thought I had while sitting in the steam. I was waiting for the massage, observing the other women with me, and I came upon the realization that it was a woman's world in there. The whole building was filled with women, with no, or few clothes on. In that dreamy room of mist, we lose the separations that apply to us outside. You cannot tell what their religion is, if they cover themselves, if they are married, if they are lesbian, if they are rich, poor, etc. As you sit there in the steamy air, the sound of running water masking the conversations, every woman looks beautiful, no matter their age or weight. Every woman looks like a goddess, and the societal labels that are put on all of us flow away with the dirt and grime. The self modesty that accompanies so many women cannot be applied there, not with the workers rubbing their hands over every part of your body (save the most private part), in front of all the other women. I have been attending a certain Japanese spa in Santa Fe for my entire life, a place where a bathing suit is a choice, and nakedness is the norm. My comfort with my body comes in part from my time spent there soaking in the hot water with women of all ages and sizes. But I had never realized just how beautiful a thing it is, until I had been in a place where comfort with naked bodies isn't very common, and then was thrust into a room full of half naked women. Time away from your usual makes you think about it in a completely different way!
     To close up my post, I insist that every one of you who visits Turkey attend a hamam. If you do not like it based on my description, go anyways. Every hamam is different, and everyone has a different experience. This was just mine!
   Xoxo, Izzy

Sunday wanderings and other adventures

Merhaba!

     I want to begin my post by clearing up a point from my last post that my have confused some of you. While talking about my return home, I stated that I was not filled with sadness, but with an excited glow at the thought of returning. This was not entirely true. As I have gone through life these past few days, interacting with my family, my friends, and my larger community. As I have spoken Turkish, and experienced new aspects of this country I live in, I have realized that going home is not all that I have made it up to be. I will be going home to my life, the life I have lived for 17 years, and I will be leaving this life in Turkey that I have lived for only six months, a life that is still very much new and exciting to me. The YES Program does not end when I de-board the plane in Santa Fe on June 12th, but the active part of it, the part that continuously opens up my world and mind, that forces me to become a stronger, more aware person, that part will be over. I go home to a family that loves me, to a group of friends that accept me, to countless opportunities for me to follow my dreams, to a year packed with school and college apps. I cannot say I am not sad at the thought of leaving. As I am eating delicious fish with my family, or laughing with everyone because I finally understood what was said, or dancing with my class during break, I think ahead to two and a half months from now, to living without these things, and my heart hurts. But there is the part of my heart that lies in the U.S. I am a born and bred American, and this year has made that piece of me grow roots that cannot be pulled up. Wherever I am on this big and beautiful earth, whatever I am doing to live my life to its fullest, that part of me will yearn for my country. And it is that piece of my heart that feels the happiness at returning home. While that part of me will never leave, I still have a nomad's soul, and traveling is in my bones. Some exchange students would give anything to stay in their countries, some are overjoyed at the thought of leaving, I am undecided, and my emotions will continue to change up until my return culture shock is over, but I do not want y'all to think I am happy at leaving Turkey. That is not what I was trying to say in my last post!

     My sister and I usually spend the weekends in Izmir with her grandmother and aunts, however, my sister was sick last weekend, so we stayed here in Aydin. My family loves taking day trips, and on the rare occasions that my sister and I are home on the weekend, they take the opportunity. Last Sunday we drove to Marmaris, a seaside town that is a common attraction for tourists and cruise ships, but that in March is low key, and pretty. We walked beside the sea, enjoying the fresh breeze, and my sister and I listened for any American English speakers. Meeting other Americans is a goal of mine here, and having my sister to help me is nice, especially because we can speak to each other in Turkish, preventing the tourists from understanding us. I did not meet any Americans, but I did meet a Canadian couple who has lived in Turkey for the past few years, occasionally sailing up and down the Western coast in their boat. We discussed the differences between the West and Turkey, the generosity of Turks, and the political situation in Turkey at the moment. I didn't ask them, but it made me wonder what makes people leave their countries for good, when not for reasons such as famine and economic or social hardships.
     After our walk, we headed inland a bit to dine at a delicious fish restaurant, where my host dad picked out a mind glowingly fantastic fish stew.  It was located next to a crystal clear creek, inhabited by ducks, and surrounded by bright green foliage. Not such a bad way for me to spend my Sunday afternoon! To keep y'all up to date, my host dad's idea of a day trip is driving a few hours, maybe walking around a little bit, and then immediately finding the best fish restaurant in the town, and I must say, this system of traveling isn't so terrible! The pictures below are from that day.

My sister and I

Ahhhhh!

My sister, grandma, and I in front of a breathtaking view

     Turkey has been a politically active country these past few weeks, to put it mildly. The Prime Minister, Erdogan, has blocked both Twitter and YouTube, after recordings of corrupt calls were posted. Protests have broken out after 14 year old Berkin Elvan died a month ago. He had been in a seven month coma after being hit on the head with a police gas canister during the Gazi Protests, although he had not been actively participating in the protests. After his death, people rose up to support him and his family, and to protest Erdogan's seeming disregard for the loss. To say the least, I have arrived in Turkey at an interesting time, and it is amazing to experience these events from within the country. This weekend was also the election for mayors around the country, and it has fanned the flame of tension that has been present for the past few weeks. Despite the actions of Erdogan, his party, AKP, won with the majority. There is speculation to the numerous power outages around the country while the votes were being counted, but it is not certain that fraud was committed. At first I could not understand how Erdogan would win without rigging the polls, but I am saying that after spending three months on the very liberal Western coast of Turkey, and I am forgetting the large area of middle and Eastern Turkey where he keeps a very strong group of supporters.
     Due the elections yesterday, today is a school holiday. My host parents drove to Izmir yesterday, picked me and my sister up, and we took the long way back to Aydin, driving along the coast. The first place we stopped was Sigacik, a small town that boasted an old castle, a harbor full of boats, and a bustling bazaar. My host parents bought a hand-made string of woven flowers for me, that I can wear in any way I want. I'm thinking I will go hippie and wear it around my head!
     We had eaten about forty-five minutes before, otherwise we would have eaten at one of the fish restaurants in the town. Instead, we headed out, and kept driving. We stopped at the beach at one point, and I immediately took my shoes off to dip my feet in. My pants got wet as well, but it was worth it. The water was heavenly! We eventually found a fish restaurant on the side of the road, and dined on another delicious plate of fish. I hope this family activity doesn't end until the day I leave, because it makes my weekends absolute heaven! My sister and I collected sea glass after dinner from the beach, and I realized that I learned how to skip rocks by not trying for years. Here are a few pictures!

One of our Sunday fish dinners

My pants getting thoroughly soaked

The bazaar in Sigacik

        While I am writing on here, I will talk about the annual Nevruz Festival. It is a Persian tradition, and is celebrated around March 21st, to welcome in Spring. The usual activity is jumping over fire, and sometimes games are included. My school decided to have a celebration this year, and the 11th grade classes were chosen to participate in the games. Before we started, a fire was started in the school yard, and we all took turn jumping through it. Unfortunately I had forgotten my sweatpants, and my skirt had a tendency to fly up while I was jumping. But it was fun anyways! My friend signed me up for all of the games so I did everything from carrying a spoon with an egg in my mouth, to feeding my friend yogurt while bind-folded. It was so much fun (although my skirt was covered in yogurt at the end of the day)! The pictures below are just three out of the many that were taken.

The Persian tradition of jumping over fire to welcome Spring

A game we played to celebrate Nevruz... I was the only girl in a group of boys, and I lost :)

Yogurt!

The picture below is just my friends and I having a fun time! Becoming closer to my friends and creating memories like this one means so much this year, and makes adjustment that much easier. I love you guys <3

Moustaches

Ti amo!

Merhaba!

     I am so very sorry about my lack of discipline in keeping y'all up to date! Between normal life here, my online English class, and studying for the ACT (less than a month away...), blogging isn't at the top of my list most of the time. As of this week I officially have a few days less than three months left here in Turkey. AFS sent me my plane tickets, and June 10th is the day. The day I leave my family, my friends, my school, my city, my language, everything that has become home to me here in Turkey. The thought of going home fills me not with sadness, but with an excited glow at the thought of going home to my country, and an acceptance of moving onto the next part of my life, the part dedicated to college. While I will miss Turkey terribly, I realize that if I was not spending only nine months here (six in Aydin), I would not be forced to live as fully as I am now, I would not have to appreciate every moment spent with my host family and friends. I know there will be many moments this next year where instead of feeling happy and comfortable back home, I will be bored and uncomfortable in a culture that I haven't lived in for almost a year. But I'm ready to accept it. I try to live with no regrets in life, and that includes not looking back, so when I step onto that plane bound for New York on June 10th, I will not look back, but forward, and focus on creating more memories as wonderful as my ones here. 

     On February 10th a group of Italians arrived in Aydin to spend three weeks as exchange students. They lived with host families from my school, toured the area, went to school (although they didn't actually go to classes), and learned about the Turkish culture. The project is called Comenius, and works to form bonds between European countries (like YES!). Last year a group of twenty students from my school here spent two weeks in Italy doing the same thing, so this year was the Italians' turn. As the American exchange student I was able to be an honorary member of the group, and so on February 10th my three weeks of jumping between two cultures commenced. American and Italian cultures, while different in many ways, share the Western base, and so cultural mis-understandings are not as large as they can be between Western and Middle-Eastern cultures. With my AFS and YES training before arriving, and the past five and a half months of living here, I have an understanding and acceptance of the Turkish culture that the Italians do not have, and because I am American, I have roots and an understanding in the Italian's Western way of thinking that the Turks do not have. To my friends at school I am the representation of the West, so when the Italians offended a cultural value, didn't the like the food, or spoke Italian with each other when we were all together, my friends were aghast. "Why are they doing this? Isabel knows our culture, loves our food, speaks to us all the time" I had to explain to them that my situation here is different. I do not have a pack of fellow Americans to find comfort in, I do not have only three weeks here to look at the culture, learn a few things, and then leave. I live here. I must find comfort in the people here to get through the year, and so I do (and as for the food, well I am just special in the fact that I literally love all food everywhere). I also explained that they do not know the culture, they do not know what offends Turkish people, and that the food can't be loved by everyone. When cultural clashes occurred, I tried to explain to both sides the other's point of view, using my mix of Turkish and English to get my points across. My role as a cultural Ambassador expanded for these three weeks, so instead of simply representing the U.S., I was representing Turkey as well. It was a taste of what I will be doing for the rest of my life; showing people that Turkey is so much more than Istanbul and Islam, and that traditions such as the Hijab are more complicated that Americans like to think. It made showed me truly what the YES Program is about, and how important it is.

     While the Italians were here, I realized that while the other YES students worried about me being lonely without other exchange students in my area, living here without them has benefited me greatly. It has forced me to form a community here, forced me to reach out of my comfort zone and become part of my school and family. There were, however, points while the Italians were here that I felt completely alone. The Italians had their group, the Turks were in their country, and where was I? I was the American girl who seemed part Turkish (one Italian boy actually thought I was Turkish for two and a half weeks), but who wasn't truly Turkish. I would look around at the groups and feel that I belonged in neither. So what did I do? I threw myself into the Turkish group. I tried extra hard to understand, extra hard to speak, and extra hard to become closer to my friends. The Italians were great to have here. I became really good friends with many of them, and I am trying to visit them next summer, and it made me realize how much I have learned here. I have moved past my own cultural beliefs and stereotypes, changed beliefs of mine that I have held since I can remember, and gained a new perspective on my own country. For me to fully adjust to a culture I must do it alone, and I know that now. It is scary, it is lonely, it is hard, it is tiring, yes, but it's the most rewarding thing a world trotter can do.

My Ebru piece! 

My friend and I taking selfies with one of the Italians

Working out on the machines in Turkish parks

My Italian friend and I at Pamukkale

Traditional Turkish dance costumes

Me in my costume!

The group of Turks, Italians, and the American at Efes

Turkish Coffee

Merhaba!

     The fame of Turkish coffee (Türk kahvesi) stretches far beyond the reaches of either the Republic of Turkey or the former Ottoman Empire. It is known for it's strong, sweet flavor, and the coffee grounds lying at the bottom of the cup, ready to surprise any unknowing tourist with a mouthful of dry grinds. An exchange student in Turkey would be doing their blog followers a huge disservice by not providing them with the full knowledge on this legendary drink, and so I bring to you my blog post dedicated to the delightfulness of Turkish coffee.
     I will start with the making of the coffee. There are different methods you can use to make the drink. The more traditional way is in a little pot on the stove, the next way is using a similar, but faster, electrical pot that plugs into the wall, and the last, and easiest, is the machine which does everything for you. If you are using the pot-on-stove method, or the electrical pot method, you will use much the same process of preparation. The first step is to put a scoop per person of grinds in the pot drinking, and a Turkish coffee cup of water per person in. It is important that all people drinking coffee from the same batch drink the same level of coffee (sade-plain-no sugar, orta-middle-one cube of sugar, sekerli-with sugar-2 cubes of sugar). A sade drinker cannot drink from a batch of coffee made with sugar in it, and an orta drinker cannot drink coffee from a batch made with no sugar, or too much sugar. The same can be said for sekerli drinkers. So if you have five sade drinkers, and only one orta drinker, you still must make two separate batches of coffee. When you have put the correct amount of coffee, water, and sugar into the pot, you will stir the contents, and then wait. What you are waiting for is a very specific moment where the coffee is almost boiling, but not quite at the rolling boil that one associates with cooking pasta. If the coffee boils too much it will lose the foamy top coat that makes it so delectable, and, of course, if it doesn't boil at all it won't be fully ready. The electric pot boils in a relatively short time, and with no notice, so you must keep a close eye on the state of the coffee. Using the machine is much less focus requiring. You simply put the correct amount of coffee and sugar into the provided cup, slip it into the slot, make sure there is enough water in the machine, and pushe the start button. The only thing to remember with the machine is that it has the capacity to make just two coffees at a time, so you must remember not to put more than that amount of coffee in the cup. After the drink is ready, you will pour it into the small coffee cups used for Turkish coffee. The coffee is served on a tray, and although it isn't necessary, my host sister taught me to point all the handles to your left so that when the person drinking takes the cup and saucer off the tray the cup is already in position to pick up. The first two methods of making Turkish coffee take some learning, and are slightly daunting as to what people will do if you make a mistake (they will still drink the coffee by the way), but once mastered it is a task performed without thinking.
     The second part of Turkish coffee, actually drinking it, is the enjoyable part. The taste differs depending on the level one is drinking. Sade is pure, strong coffee that takes a true coffee lover to drink. Orta is sweet, but with the perfect amount of coffee taste as well (I drink orta). Sekerli is incredibly sugary, usually leaving a tiny drop of actual coffee taste. Keep in mind, however, that each restaurant, each house, and each type of coffee grinds produces a different taste of coffee, so the amount of sugar versus coffee taste will change from cup to cup. For instance, most of the time orta coffee is relatively sweet, but in my house, due to the grind of coffee we use, orta coffee tastes almost sugarless. So be flexible in your taste for coffee. You may not always receive exactly what you hoped for! And never forget to stop drinking before the bottom of the cup. My first night in Turkey I was drinking coffee with my host parents, and I drank all the way down to the bottom. They cracked up when they saw my face, and I couldn't help but laugh along as I was trying to force it down. What you get is a mouthful of thick, sandy grinds that you feel the whole time you are swallowing them. It blots out the delicious taste the rest of the coffee has left behind. JUST SAY NO!
     The third and last part of Turkish coffee is the fortune telling, and has nothing to do with how it is made or how it tastes, instead with the person drinking the coffee and the person reading the fortune. You start by drinking the coffee down to the grinds (not drinking the grinds of course). You then turn the cup upside down on it's saucer, hold it between your thumb and forefinger, turn it three times in a clockwise circle (this is how my friend has had me do it, I don't know if it is a rule or not), and then set it down with the cup upside down until the coffee has cooled. The reader then picks the cup up and reads the signs on the cup and on the saucer, telling you your present and future. I will not tell what has been foretold for me, for me it is like a wish, if I tell it won't come true. Have your fortune read from your coffee is a must after drinking Turkish coffee, not every time (living in dreams does no good for anyone), but every once in a while it's a nice treat to see what great romances or losses you will have in your life!
     Turkish coffee and Turkish baths have spread their fame and wonder across the world. So sit tight for my post on the baths, I have yet to attend, but I will not leave this country without paying a visit! Goodnight for now!
Xoxo, Izzy

A traditional coffee cup from the outside

What the coffee looks like 

Places to go, people to meet

Selam arkadaslar!
     My current host family has taken it upon themselves to show me the historical places around Aydin, something I am incredibly thankful for. Yesterday we joined together with a group of kids that my sister had gone to school with and their moms to visit some of those sights. We started off by eating breakfast in the tiny village of Sirince. It is a curvy, fifteen minute drive from the town of Selçuk into a beautiful, green mountain valley. The village itself is built on the slopes of one of the hills, and all the streets are sloped downwards. Before World War I Sirince was inhabited by Christian Greeks, however, after the war ended, Greece and Turkey made a deal where the Christians of Turkey were sent to Greece and the Muslims of Greece were sent to Turkey. After that the village became Turkish, although it kept the Greek style of housing. The village possesses an old Greek church that is currently being restored due to the years of neglect. We ate breakfast at a classic Turkish breakfast place, where I was able to enjoy delicious homemade peach jam with local peaches (along with the rest of the delicious, simple Turkish breakfast. Yummmm!), and form a friendship with the old lady working there. After breakfast we toured around the town, and I made a glass bead in the small bazaar. I had spoken with the man at the stand earlier about how I'm an American exchange student, and he gave me the bead I made for free. I have come to realize in the past few months that being an exchange student connects you with people to a certain level, but being able to communicate with them in their own language connects you on a completely different level. I have encountered incredible kindness and generosity from people after they learn that I can speak Turkish. Truly so much of a culture lives in the language, and I am finding that learning languages and being able to make those connections is a great love of mine.
       Our next stop was Meryem Ana, what is to be believed the last home of the Virgin Mary. It is a simple stone house consisting of two rooms, but it is what it represents that makes it special. Now I'm not a religious person, but I have always had a connection to Mary for reasons that I can't fully explain myself. Touching the walls that she may have touched, being in the space she may have lived in was a moving moment for me. Meryem Ana has for a long time been a pilgrimage sight for Christians, and although I am not Christian, can I too count myself in with those people who feel a great connection to that place? Also at Meryem Ana was what I named the Wishing Wall, a wall of wishes written on paper (or anything else people could write on). I think it may have started as a barbed wire fence, and after hundreds of wishes tied to it, it has become a wall of straight paper. I added my own wish to the wall and sent a thought of love to Mary as I did.
      After Meryem Ana we headed to Ephesus, an ancient Greek city that had been on the coast of Ionia. Later taken by the Romans, it became a city of great importance, reaching a population between 36,000 and 56,000. It was also home of the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and the Library of Celsus, which is the famous picture of the towering marble, columned wall. Ephesus truly blew my mind. Ancient sites always blow my mind, usually due to my mind trying to imagine actual human beings leading normal lives in them, but Ephesus was more than usual. The amount of marble used, the amount of incredibly intricate sculptures and carvings, the colorful and detailed tiled floors, the towering columns, the massive amphitheater, everything. How is it possible that these people didn't have the technology that we have today, all they had were their hands and simple tools, but their creations were just as grand and spectacular as ours are. More grand in my opinion, for the reason that they ONLY had their simple tools. They used the materials available, and built these grand cities that have survived thousands of years. I could have stayed there all day. Sitting, feeling, looking, imagining the every day activities of the people who lived there. Unfortunately we could not stay at Ephesus all day, and I had to be dragged out of it in order to get back home on time. But luckily I live an hour's drive away from it, and when I feel the want I can go back to spend a day fully exploring that majestic city.
     While standing in the bottom of the amphitheater, I bent down to pet a cat that was standing at my feet, and I heard someone say something behind me. I turned around to see a a girl about my age from Japan smiling at me, and as she passed me she said "you're so pretty!" I then asked her to take a picture of me in the theater, after which her parents asked to take a picture of us together. We parted after that, but the short moment of connection, of the simple want of humans to be together and to meet each other was beautiful, and it was a highlight of this day full of highlights.
     Leading a normal life in this country, it is easy for me to forget how old it is, how many different civilizations have lived and died on this land, how many individual lives have been lived out here. Those civilizations are like stories to us. We accept that they existed, but to actually try and fully grasp that those people were made of the same matter, felt the same feelings as us, is something we don't do very often. Our modern world is everything to us now. The past led up to what is no, and the future will be what we make it, but the people living in those ancient times that we cherish and preserve were the same. They couldn't imagine a world like it is now, just like we can't fully imagine a world like it was then. Those people are our ancestors, and yet we are as separate from them as we are from characters in books. Their stories will live on in our books and our thoughts, but their lives are forever lost in the winds of time, their losses and victories nothing but events that have somehow impacted what our world is today. It is a sad thought, but comforting to know that whatever happens in our world today will be nothing but a story in ten thousand years.
Xoxo, Izzy

                                         

                                               The front wall of the Library of Celsus in Ephesus

The ancient Greek writing above the door at the church in Sirince

The church in Sirince

The village of Sirince

The woman who worked at the breakfast place. We connected <3

The wishing wall

The girl from Japan I met

From halfway up the huge amphitheater at Ephesus

The front of what is believed to be Mary's last house

Me making a glass bead!

Me receiving a crown of leaves from a teyze (aunt)

Basketball

Merhaba!
   So, my school in Kayseri wasn't really into sports. I'm sure they had them, but it wasn't a school activity. But here in Aydin, the boy's basketball games are absolutely a school activity. Most students either get permission to leave school or just ditch on the game days. The sport salon where the basketball games are held is always full, one side for our school, one side for the other school. There aren't cheerleaders in Turkey, well, at least not in the sense of American cheerleaders. Here in Turkey the twelfth grade boys (and if there are no twelfth grade boys to do the job, the younger boys take over) stand up on the wall separating the seats from the court and lead the crowd in cheering on their team. It looks something like this; each side of the gym is full, each side has a pack of boys, and some girls, yelling, singing, waving their arms, holding lighters, holding signs, yelling at the other group of cheerers, and at least once in a game getting into a fight. The energy is awesome, and it gets everyone into the game. Soccer games are this way as well, but worse. There are full on riots in the stands, sometimes people die, and always the police are called. But our games are just high school games, so luckily it doesn't go that far. I have been to three basketball games in the past month, and I'm sorry to say, but the schools here have got team spirit down better than my school does back home. I think this energy comes from the fact that Turks are very emotional. They hug, they kiss, they laugh, they sing, they dance, on the street there are people honking, yelling, etc. In the States people are usually more subdued, quieter with their feelings, but it's all out in the open here (for the most part. There are of course people who aren't as emotionally loud). Seeing an American sport taken and added to with the great energy of Turks was a great experience!

On the far side of the court is the other team's cheer squad

Our squad!

The boys leading our fans!!! ADMAL!!!!