I am back in Prishtina to find some rather pleasant changes have taken place in the past couple of months.
Electricity is at an all time high, it's only gone off once in the three days I've been back. Unfortunately, the one time that it did, I was just arriving at my new apartment building laden with a heavy backpack and a box of stuff... did I mention my new apartment is on the 11th floor? I guess I didn't really get the bad end of that deal. By the time I huffed my way up to the 7th floor, I found three people with their little faces pressed to the glass in the elevator that was stuck between floors. Oops. Thank goodness the cuts are relatively predictable - they always happen on the hour or on the half hour. Note to self: Don't get in if it's anywhere close to one of those two time.
Water is now on 24 hours a day for most neighborhoods. BONUS! I was able to clean until midnight last night without having to worry that I would be stuck covered in bleach (more on that to come!).
Parking is now regulated. Instead of being able to just drive up on any old sidewalk and park your car, they have placed signage up everywhere, put stripes on the streets, and hired parking attendants so that you now have to pay to park on the sidewalk. It has cut down drastically on the immenent danger of being run down while innocently walking down the street. BONUS #2!
Other than that, Prishtina is Prishtina - dusty, dirty, and full of life. We had a little birthday dinner the other night for several of us who have birthdays this month. Much fun, good food, good conversation and lots of happy faces that I haven't seen for a while. Good stuff!
Now to complain for a minute. I arrived at the apartment I was taking over from the Super Swede to find that he has not moved out. All of his things are boxed and in the living room (taking up most of it, mind you). Anything he didn't want to take, he just left in the cabinets for me to throw away. I don't know what he was paying his cleaning woman to do twice a week, but I have never seen such filth. Ever. I have spent the past three days (with another 2 to go) bleaching the entire apartment. GROSS. It took me 7 hours just to get the bedroom and bathroom in a condition to where I was willing to unpack my things. The kitchen was covered in a layer of grease and dirt so thick that the walls have changed colors now that they are clean. EEEEWWWWW! I have had some help, and today we're having a cleaning party. Captain Canadian, the Norweigian Goddess and Thorganizer are all coming over to scrub scrub scrub. So now I am off to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get a heavy duty scrub brush and more rubber gloves. (Don't ask.) This sh*t is bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. (<---- That was just for you Duchess of Sconce!)
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Return trip...
It's 2:11 am and I'm trying to get my s**t together for my trip back to Prishtina in the morning. 22 hours of hell (well, not absolute hell - just alot of hanging around in airports). I've been packed for a couple of hours, only to find out that I will have to repack in the morning. One of my bags is WAY overweight. I thought it would be cheaper to have an overweight bag than to have an extra bag - I was sooooooooo WRONG. It would cost me twice as much for the heavy one than for an extra bag. Hmmmm. I find it interesting that they charge such a premium for overweight baggage, yet overweight people still get to spill into their neighbors laps. Say, is there an Atkins Diet for Samsonite?
So I am officially giving up for the evening and going to bed to get a little bit of sleep. Will repack in the morning. Then it's off to Kosovo. I'm a little excited about going "home". :)
So I am officially giving up for the evening and going to bed to get a little bit of sleep. Will repack in the morning. Then it's off to Kosovo. I'm a little excited about going "home". :)
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
oops
The next time I decide to blog after 3 margaritas, I hope someone is around to stop me. That last post sounded like a bad Bud Light commercial "I love you, man!" Not that every word of it wasn't true, but geez. How embarassing.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Where's the love... OH there it is....
There should be a law against inebriated blogging... it's like drunk dialing but 10 times worse. Anyway... all I really wanted to say was how blessed I am to have a circle of friends like mine. I am always amazed by the people around me... you are all so wonderful. Stacy, Alio, Kev, Amy, Kailei, Jayden, Joey, Jose, Gus, Nick, Nathan, Michelle, Kelly, Jack, Jayson, Nikki, Travis, Tam, Jamie, Julie and Jamie, Jenifer, Matt and anybody I inadvertantly missed by being a little silly right now... I love you so much!!! You have made my time in the U.S. exactly what it was meant to be. I miss you all tons already (yep, I have had one tearful incident, with more to come, I am sure - so homesick I could die and I haven't even left yet.) My tail will be wagging for weeks (or months) to come just because I had the opportunity to spend some time with you. THANKS FOR BEING THERE ALWAYS. Mean it.
And as for my wonderful family... I just can't say enough. I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!!
Before I start getting really sappy, I'm going to sign off. But I don't think I say it enough. You guys are the best. I do love you to pieces, and I am a blessed, blessed woman to have you all in my life. THANK YOU!!
And as for my wonderful family... I just can't say enough. I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!!
Before I start getting really sappy, I'm going to sign off. But I don't think I say it enough. You guys are the best. I do love you to pieces, and I am a blessed, blessed woman to have you all in my life. THANK YOU!!
Monday, August 29, 2005
More photos
Posted the 4th and final album from Turkey trip today . Finally. I know. Lazy cow. Mooo. It's what I do best. (see PHOTOS link, Turkey 4, Summer 2005 - incredibly creative album title, I know. I am sooooo ON today. Tomorrow I may write something titled August 30, LA who knows - I don't wanna get out-of-control creative or anything.)
Oh yeah, right.. heading for LA tomorrow to see the gang. Cannot wait!!! (DC was kind of a bust trip - more on that when my broken heart has healed a little bit. Nothing a little beach therapy won't cure.) Heading straight for M&N's house to see my Little Angels. I'm sure they're going to be so tall I won't even recognize them. 11 am I have my first play date. Yippee!!!
Ok, going to pack now as my shuttle to the airport is picking me up at 5:50 am. YUCK. So excited about coming home. Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! (i'm such a little kid - and they put ME in charge of a classroom. hahahahahahahahaha)
:)
Oh yeah, right.. heading for LA tomorrow to see the gang. Cannot wait!!! (DC was kind of a bust trip - more on that when my broken heart has healed a little bit. Nothing a little beach therapy won't cure.) Heading straight for M&N's house to see my Little Angels. I'm sure they're going to be so tall I won't even recognize them. 11 am I have my first play date. Yippee!!!
Ok, going to pack now as my shuttle to the airport is picking me up at 5:50 am. YUCK. So excited about coming home. Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! (i'm such a little kid - and they put ME in charge of a classroom. hahahahahahahahaha)
:)
Dispatches from Tanganyika
Just found this blog online that I really like. It's by Poppie Z. Brite's, an author from New Orlean's. I originally came across the site when reading about hurricane Katrina evacuation stories. (Yes, I too am sucked in by other's miseries and cannot seem to tear myself away from the news or the internet.) What is it in human nature that makes us seek out the suffering, the disasters and the most horrific things we can find, say to ourselves and everyone around us "GOD THAT's AWFUL!!!!" and then immediately change the channel to find a re-run of M*A*S*H so we just don't have to think about reality? Part of me wants to cancel my trip to LA and jump in on the Red Cross Volunteer vans that are leaving Fort Worth in a few hours to head to affected areas to begin search and rescue and clean up. The rest of me, and admittedly, the biggest, most selfish part of me, says aw f*** it. There'll be a million volunteers down there anyway, and I won't get to see my friends for another year. And I know that's what I'm going to do. And I'll feel guilty about it for about 30 minutes - until I'm on my plane and heading for the coast, where it never rains, much less has a hurricane. My luck, God will smite me for being smug and send an earthquake, as I've never been through one for real.
Anyway, the real reason I started in on this whole blog thing today was to write about this other blog... here's an excerpt from Brite's blog that particularly caught my eye:
Opinions Are Like ...
Well, You KnowAll right, if I'm to be perfectly honest, I don't actually believe that everyone is entitled to an opinion. I agree with Harlan Ellison, who once said -- and I wish I could remember where he said it; probably in one of his Glass Teat columns -- that everyone is entitled to an informed opinion. I don't think people are entitled to opinions about food they haven't tried, or books they haven't read, or political issues about which they're not informed. I certainly don't think they are entitled to prejudices. Not for one moment am I suggesting that they should be prevented from expressing such opinions, but people who blather foolishly and publicly on the basis of being "entitled to an opinion" should expect to be mocked, derided, and/or treated like the bigots they are. I certainly don't claim to be free from prejudices myself, but I do recognize that my prejudices -- for instance, my long-held opinion that women don't make good fine-dining chefs -- probably make me sound like an ignorant asshole, and I try to refrain from broadcasting them (except, as here, for the purpose of "outing" myself in order to demonstrate that yeah, I know I'm a jerk too).
---------------------------------
I've included a link to this blog in my LINKS section now, more for my own benefit than for yours, no offense. I'm off to delude myself into thinking that natural disaster is not wreaking havoc on one of our most colorful historical cities as we speak, and go smoke a cigarette in 98 degree heat. Mm. The fun in my world never ceases.
Anyway, the real reason I started in on this whole blog thing today was to write about this other blog... here's an excerpt from Brite's blog that particularly caught my eye:
Opinions Are Like ...
Well, You KnowAll right, if I'm to be perfectly honest, I don't actually believe that everyone is entitled to an opinion. I agree with Harlan Ellison, who once said -- and I wish I could remember where he said it; probably in one of his Glass Teat columns -- that everyone is entitled to an informed opinion. I don't think people are entitled to opinions about food they haven't tried, or books they haven't read, or political issues about which they're not informed. I certainly don't think they are entitled to prejudices. Not for one moment am I suggesting that they should be prevented from expressing such opinions, but people who blather foolishly and publicly on the basis of being "entitled to an opinion" should expect to be mocked, derided, and/or treated like the bigots they are. I certainly don't claim to be free from prejudices myself, but I do recognize that my prejudices -- for instance, my long-held opinion that women don't make good fine-dining chefs -- probably make me sound like an ignorant asshole, and I try to refrain from broadcasting them (except, as here, for the purpose of "outing" myself in order to demonstrate that yeah, I know I'm a jerk too).
---------------------------------
I've included a link to this blog in my LINKS section now, more for my own benefit than for yours, no offense. I'm off to delude myself into thinking that natural disaster is not wreaking havoc on one of our most colorful historical cities as we speak, and go smoke a cigarette in 98 degree heat. Mm. The fun in my world never ceases.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Turkey Pics
At last!!! I have posted 3 of the 4 photo albums from the Turkey trip. One more to go, but it's going to have to wait for another day - editing 300 pics has kinda taken the wind out of my sails this morning. I haven't felt much like writing lately, as i am sure some of you have noticed. (no complaining Julie!) It honestly took me a full week to get over the jetlag of coming home, and now that I'm adjusted I've managed to stay pretty busy. I'll get back at it soon. I promise.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Coming home
Tomorrow morning I get on a plane for the long journey home. Friends, family, food... can't wait. I have taken a break from figuring out what the hell I need to pack to sit at an internet cafe and waste an hour. It's such an odd feeling to think that tomorrow night I'll be at my dad's house with my sisters (Duchess of Sconce, get off your butt and drive over from Dallas!), Daddy and Deb, that I'll be able to pick up the phone and hear voices that are only memories at the moment, and that I'll be able to sit comfortably in an air conditioned house while the world sweats away without me. :) It is the little things.
It's actually chilly in Prishtina today - the rain has cooled things off considerably. When I first arrived last week it was unbearably hot. I took the best course of action I could think of - leave. We had a girls' trip to Plav, Montenegro for some incredibly scenic hiking (complete with caves, canyons, waterfalls, and skinny dipping inthe coldest river known to man). Couldn't ask for a much better weekend away from the city. We stayed with a family, who turned out (oddly enough) to be related to one of my students. The Balkans are truly tiny and everyone really is related to everyone else. I don't see how there are so many blood feuds here when everyone is your cousin. Really. The farmhouse sat right on the lake, and the balcony off our bedroom had a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding mountains. To visit a place like that, where they have hardly ever seen a foreign tourist, where the locals welcome you into their home, and where the world seems completely unconcerned with everything else around it, is a true blessing. I feel fortunate to have caught a glimpse of what life in the Balkans must have been like before the wars, before the predjudices, before the modern world came creeping in. There are signs of it now - all the cars present were Mercedes, evidence of the vast diaspora that feeds money into the region. Our hostess said that most people in Plav now live in the States or in Germany and only come back for the summers. We saw every country in Europe's license plates represented as the parade of big Benz's careened through town. Still, it is stunning, and I have the feeling it will continue to be that way for a long time, as difficult roads and lack of access keep this little paradise isolated from the throngs that rush to the coastline every summer. Pics to be posted soon!!
And on that note, I really must go pack. I'm a leaaaavin' on a jet plane....
It's actually chilly in Prishtina today - the rain has cooled things off considerably. When I first arrived last week it was unbearably hot. I took the best course of action I could think of - leave. We had a girls' trip to Plav, Montenegro for some incredibly scenic hiking (complete with caves, canyons, waterfalls, and skinny dipping inthe coldest river known to man). Couldn't ask for a much better weekend away from the city. We stayed with a family, who turned out (oddly enough) to be related to one of my students. The Balkans are truly tiny and everyone really is related to everyone else. I don't see how there are so many blood feuds here when everyone is your cousin. Really. The farmhouse sat right on the lake, and the balcony off our bedroom had a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding mountains. To visit a place like that, where they have hardly ever seen a foreign tourist, where the locals welcome you into their home, and where the world seems completely unconcerned with everything else around it, is a true blessing. I feel fortunate to have caught a glimpse of what life in the Balkans must have been like before the wars, before the predjudices, before the modern world came creeping in. There are signs of it now - all the cars present were Mercedes, evidence of the vast diaspora that feeds money into the region. Our hostess said that most people in Plav now live in the States or in Germany and only come back for the summers. We saw every country in Europe's license plates represented as the parade of big Benz's careened through town. Still, it is stunning, and I have the feeling it will continue to be that way for a long time, as difficult roads and lack of access keep this little paradise isolated from the throngs that rush to the coastline every summer. Pics to be posted soon!!
And on that note, I really must go pack. I'm a leaaaavin' on a jet plane....
Saturday, July 30, 2005
A journey's end
In utter style, I might add...
It is done. I have left Turkey for greener (?) pastures... actually I have left Turkey for a small dose of reality. A 1 hour flight, a night in a bunk bed, and 14 hours on a bus later I am in Thessaloniki, Greece with ThunderGod, the Norwegian Goddess, and Svingy - the gang from Kosovo. We all had a hell day traveling yesterday and have rightly checked ourselves into the Hyatt Regency (at the special UN rate) for some serious luxury and R&R. After sleeping with 25 other people in the same room for the past 5 weeks, I don't particularly care what it costs per night. After a late night sushi feast, I awoke this morning surrounded in a cloud of down comforters and pillows... couldn't have been happier. The bathroom itself is a glass shrouded palace - bigger than most people's apartments in Prishtina, and the pool area a lush garden replete with waterfalls and poolside massage tent. There are some advantages to having a bit of cash I suppose, and it's a real treat to splurge every once in a while even when you don't.
I do promise you all that I will complete the story of my trip once sagely home and at the comfort of my own keyboard. There are some things that really just cannot be explained with out the pictures. I only have about 400 to post (no, that's not an exaggeration)... so be patient with me.
So in 10 days I will set foot on American soil for the first time in a year. I am terribly excited to see everyone, and at the same time I'm having trepidations about being back in the land of convenience. It's a hard adjustment to make sometimes. Even in Turkey I was overwhelmed everytime I walked into a grocery store. I felt like I needed to buy things because who knew when I'd ever see it again... silly. I hope that impulse doesn't hit me when I go into Central Market or I'll be the proud but poor owner of a large selection of rare fruits and vegetables and jars of exotic condiments. I'll be flat broke in my first week home. My true fear is that I will try to satisfy all urges and cravings for fast food in a matter of minutes and will explode quite like the guy at the end of The Meaning of Life. It could happen. Taco Bell beware!!!
It is done. I have left Turkey for greener (?) pastures... actually I have left Turkey for a small dose of reality. A 1 hour flight, a night in a bunk bed, and 14 hours on a bus later I am in Thessaloniki, Greece with ThunderGod, the Norwegian Goddess, and Svingy - the gang from Kosovo. We all had a hell day traveling yesterday and have rightly checked ourselves into the Hyatt Regency (at the special UN rate) for some serious luxury and R&R. After sleeping with 25 other people in the same room for the past 5 weeks, I don't particularly care what it costs per night. After a late night sushi feast, I awoke this morning surrounded in a cloud of down comforters and pillows... couldn't have been happier. The bathroom itself is a glass shrouded palace - bigger than most people's apartments in Prishtina, and the pool area a lush garden replete with waterfalls and poolside massage tent. There are some advantages to having a bit of cash I suppose, and it's a real treat to splurge every once in a while even when you don't.
I do promise you all that I will complete the story of my trip once sagely home and at the comfort of my own keyboard. There are some things that really just cannot be explained with out the pictures. I only have about 400 to post (no, that's not an exaggeration)... so be patient with me.
So in 10 days I will set foot on American soil for the first time in a year. I am terribly excited to see everyone, and at the same time I'm having trepidations about being back in the land of convenience. It's a hard adjustment to make sometimes. Even in Turkey I was overwhelmed everytime I walked into a grocery store. I felt like I needed to buy things because who knew when I'd ever see it again... silly. I hope that impulse doesn't hit me when I go into Central Market or I'll be the proud but poor owner of a large selection of rare fruits and vegetables and jars of exotic condiments. I'll be flat broke in my first week home. My true fear is that I will try to satisfy all urges and cravings for fast food in a matter of minutes and will explode quite like the guy at the end of The Meaning of Life. It could happen. Taco Bell beware!!!
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Turquoise Waters, Treehouses and Beyond
The past 12 days have been unbelievable. I'll do my best to do them justice, but I am afraid I won't even come close.
We'll start way back in Fethiye (it seems like ages ago!). It didn't take long after my arrival to realize that Fethiye is even more touristy than some of the other places I had been. It was an immediate assault on the nerves as vendor after vendor tried to sell me boat cruises, tours, carpets, belly dancing costumes, and various other useless objects in my life right now. What the hell would I do with a carpet? I don't even have a home right now. Sheesh. I checked into my dank little hotel, with one redeeming quality - AC. I have never been happier to have AC in my life. While I have been a bit warm in some of the places I have been, Fethiye took the cake by far. I thought I was gonna melt (being as sweet as I am, that's not such a stretch - stop laughing, all of youse!!). Anyway, ran into some friends from Atilla's and had a good couple of days lying around on the beach with them, all while having a good laugh at being stalked by the same puppy dog-eyed Turkish English teacher named Jimmy. (He was working at the Chinese restaurant in town, and I guess at some point in our stays we all had decided that it was necessary to eat something other than a kebab. From the moment I sat down and told him I was an English teacher, all he wanted to do was discuss theory. It wasn't until I ran in to him later that night that he decided to follow me around with very sad eyes because I wasn't interested. Did I mention he was 19?? lol)
After two days of Jimmy-dodging, I got on the boat for Olympos. It was an interesting mix, a Canadian family, a Turkish family, five Aussies and another American(from SF no less, older than me who had also dropped out of the advertising scene recently to travel the world. I guess that little life can fatigue just about anyone) We all had a BLAST. Who wouldn't aboard a big ass sailboat (even though we motored the whole way) in the beautiful turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, with nothing to do all day but snorkel, nap, drink beer, swim, drink more beer, sleep some more... Honestly. How could that be bad?? Leave it to the families to find a way. The last night of our trip was the designated "big party" night. We anchored in this tiny cove consisting of nothing but rocks and a bar. We were all water taxied to the club to dance the night away.. I'm sorry, I believe the proper term for what were doing was "Caaaaaaahhhving" up the dance floor (must be spoken with a heavy Aussie accent). SuperTool (our nickname for the annoying guy on the boat) managed to pass out on the deck of the bar within an hour of arrival. Way to go dude! We all took pics, and had we had a Sharpie the poor guy would still be trying to erase the tatoos from his forhead. So as the night wound down and we were shuttled back to the boat, we turned on the music on deck, cracked open a couple of beers and continued harrassing ST. Within seconds, Bonnie the Superlibrarian from Canada comes bounding around the corner and without saying a word to anyone, turns the music off. Now granted, I understand that they were trying to sleep, and it was late, BUT, if I were a family and wanted a peaceful boat cruise, would I book it through a company called BIG BACKPACKERS, who touts their "good times" attitude? Not really what I would look for in a family vacation, but to each his own. After a heated discussion with the captain a compromise was reached and all was happy. However the whole backpacker experience turned the Librarian and family off of staying in Olympos for a few days. But not the rest of us.
We all piled into a hostel together and spent the next two days hanging out on one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. The mountains dropped directly into the sea, save for a few meters of polished stone beach. The cliff walls around the beach were dotted with ruins from one of the many ancient civilizations in the area. This whole country is a bit surreal. I've been to cities that were founded in 7900 b.c. for crying out loud. American history? Can we even call it history at this point? Isn't more like the recent past? lol Just a different perspective I guess. We alos took a hike up to see the Chimera flames, which is basically random flames shooting out of the rocks on the side of the mountain. Our hostess gave us a bag of marshmallows and some roasting sticks and sent us on our merry way. Quite an experience.
As we were heading out of Olympos, we stopped by one of the older hostels just to check it out. The big draw to Olympos is supposed to be this whole "treehouse" thing, except that the majority of the pensions didn't really get the concept. A house made of trees two inches off the ground does NOT constitute a tree house. Kadir's, however, got it right. They had honest to god treehouses built in the trees. We couldn't resist and booked another night in the only treehouse in Olympos with its own bathroom. Sweet.
The next night we all ventured off on an overnight bus to Goreme, Cappadocia to see some of the most unbelievable scenery I have ever seen in my entire life. When I said I felt like I was living in a movie set, I wasn't kidding. This place is amazing. More on that soon...
We'll start way back in Fethiye (it seems like ages ago!). It didn't take long after my arrival to realize that Fethiye is even more touristy than some of the other places I had been. It was an immediate assault on the nerves as vendor after vendor tried to sell me boat cruises, tours, carpets, belly dancing costumes, and various other useless objects in my life right now. What the hell would I do with a carpet? I don't even have a home right now. Sheesh. I checked into my dank little hotel, with one redeeming quality - AC. I have never been happier to have AC in my life. While I have been a bit warm in some of the places I have been, Fethiye took the cake by far. I thought I was gonna melt (being as sweet as I am, that's not such a stretch - stop laughing, all of youse!!). Anyway, ran into some friends from Atilla's and had a good couple of days lying around on the beach with them, all while having a good laugh at being stalked by the same puppy dog-eyed Turkish English teacher named Jimmy. (He was working at the Chinese restaurant in town, and I guess at some point in our stays we all had decided that it was necessary to eat something other than a kebab. From the moment I sat down and told him I was an English teacher, all he wanted to do was discuss theory. It wasn't until I ran in to him later that night that he decided to follow me around with very sad eyes because I wasn't interested. Did I mention he was 19?? lol)
After two days of Jimmy-dodging, I got on the boat for Olympos. It was an interesting mix, a Canadian family, a Turkish family, five Aussies and another American(from SF no less, older than me who had also dropped out of the advertising scene recently to travel the world. I guess that little life can fatigue just about anyone) We all had a BLAST. Who wouldn't aboard a big ass sailboat (even though we motored the whole way) in the beautiful turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, with nothing to do all day but snorkel, nap, drink beer, swim, drink more beer, sleep some more... Honestly. How could that be bad?? Leave it to the families to find a way. The last night of our trip was the designated "big party" night. We anchored in this tiny cove consisting of nothing but rocks and a bar. We were all water taxied to the club to dance the night away.. I'm sorry, I believe the proper term for what were doing was "Caaaaaaahhhving" up the dance floor (must be spoken with a heavy Aussie accent). SuperTool (our nickname for the annoying guy on the boat) managed to pass out on the deck of the bar within an hour of arrival. Way to go dude! We all took pics, and had we had a Sharpie the poor guy would still be trying to erase the tatoos from his forhead. So as the night wound down and we were shuttled back to the boat, we turned on the music on deck, cracked open a couple of beers and continued harrassing ST. Within seconds, Bonnie the Superlibrarian from Canada comes bounding around the corner and without saying a word to anyone, turns the music off. Now granted, I understand that they were trying to sleep, and it was late, BUT, if I were a family and wanted a peaceful boat cruise, would I book it through a company called BIG BACKPACKERS, who touts their "good times" attitude? Not really what I would look for in a family vacation, but to each his own. After a heated discussion with the captain a compromise was reached and all was happy. However the whole backpacker experience turned the Librarian and family off of staying in Olympos for a few days. But not the rest of us.
We all piled into a hostel together and spent the next two days hanging out on one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. The mountains dropped directly into the sea, save for a few meters of polished stone beach. The cliff walls around the beach were dotted with ruins from one of the many ancient civilizations in the area. This whole country is a bit surreal. I've been to cities that were founded in 7900 b.c. for crying out loud. American history? Can we even call it history at this point? Isn't more like the recent past? lol Just a different perspective I guess. We alos took a hike up to see the Chimera flames, which is basically random flames shooting out of the rocks on the side of the mountain. Our hostess gave us a bag of marshmallows and some roasting sticks and sent us on our merry way. Quite an experience.
As we were heading out of Olympos, we stopped by one of the older hostels just to check it out. The big draw to Olympos is supposed to be this whole "treehouse" thing, except that the majority of the pensions didn't really get the concept. A house made of trees two inches off the ground does NOT constitute a tree house. Kadir's, however, got it right. They had honest to god treehouses built in the trees. We couldn't resist and booked another night in the only treehouse in Olympos with its own bathroom. Sweet.
The next night we all ventured off on an overnight bus to Goreme, Cappadocia to see some of the most unbelievable scenery I have ever seen in my entire life. When I said I felt like I was living in a movie set, I wasn't kidding. This place is amazing. More on that soon...
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Is it really week 4 of this trip??
It has been 10 days since I have posted anything. So much has happened I don't even know where to start.... so I don't think I'm going to right now. Honestly, I'm just not in the mood to write today, but I didn't want anyone to think I had drowned on my boat cruise (which was FANTASTIC!!) I swear I'll write all about it later.
I am now in Goreme, Cappadocia which is one of the coolest places I have ever seen. I feel like I am in some weired movie set 24 hours a day. Houses carved into cave walls, chuches carved out of solid rock, weird rock formations everywhere... it's so trippy. Yesterday we took a long hike through some of the valleys to look at the 8th century churches that are built into the rock, complete with intact frescoes... pretty insane. Afterwards we all went to a Turkish night, some tourist set-up all you can eat and drink with folk dancing thing, that was totally fun. We stayed out way too late and between the heat, the hike and the hangover (Triple H killer combo), we have opted to spend today by the pool instead of doing any heavy duty sight seeing today. (I am still traveling with a good portion of people from the boat cruise, we just can't seem to get away from each other... but we're having a blast.)
I have 10 days left in this little journey of mine. I can't believe it's almost over already. Craziness. In 19 days, I'll be in Texas with a hell of a story to tell, and I promise to get all the little details thrown up here as soon as I can. Photos included. It's time to go back to the pool now. My tan is fading as we speak. I can feel myself getting pale. (hahahha)
I am now in Goreme, Cappadocia which is one of the coolest places I have ever seen. I feel like I am in some weired movie set 24 hours a day. Houses carved into cave walls, chuches carved out of solid rock, weird rock formations everywhere... it's so trippy. Yesterday we took a long hike through some of the valleys to look at the 8th century churches that are built into the rock, complete with intact frescoes... pretty insane. Afterwards we all went to a Turkish night, some tourist set-up all you can eat and drink with folk dancing thing, that was totally fun. We stayed out way too late and between the heat, the hike and the hangover (Triple H killer combo), we have opted to spend today by the pool instead of doing any heavy duty sight seeing today. (I am still traveling with a good portion of people from the boat cruise, we just can't seem to get away from each other... but we're having a blast.)
I have 10 days left in this little journey of mine. I can't believe it's almost over already. Craziness. In 19 days, I'll be in Texas with a hell of a story to tell, and I promise to get all the little details thrown up here as soon as I can. Photos included. It's time to go back to the pool now. My tan is fading as we speak. I can feel myself getting pale. (hahahha)
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Days 14 - 16 Dalyan & Fethiye
*sigh*
I can truly see why people would come here and never want to leave. It is absolutely gorgeous. For the past two days I have been in a small town called Dalyan, famous for being a nesting site for loggerhead turtles (not that they're running around all over the place or anything, but they nest at night on the protected beaches). Dalyan itself is nestled upriver about 13 km from the beach, facing sheer rock cliffs that are dotted with ancient Lycean tombs carved straight into the faces - huge temples to the dead hanging hundreds of feet above the banks of the river. It's quite stunning at night to see them all lit up. On my first night in Dalyan I took a cruise up to the lake guided by a Scottish astronomer. I got to see Mercury, Venus and Jupiter, as well as many other cool things like star clusters and red giants and binaries and other geeky stuff like that, through high powered binoculars (boat isn't steady enough for telescopes, plus most of their equipment is hung up in customs). The guide, Duncan, evidently made quite a bit of money back in the 70's off a book he wrote claiming that he had been able to interpret a message from outer space. He also must have spent a lot of that money doing some serious drugs, because he was a little "out there" himself. Definitely one of those "off the beaten track" activities, but worth the money spent. I had an absolute miserable nights sleep, as the window of the hotel room I was in was blocked by a large bureau, and there was no air whatsoever. I seriously thought I was going to suffocate. At 7:30 the next morning I got up and moved to another place and was a much happier girl.
So after settling into my new hotel (same price I was paying for a twin bed in a stuffy closet for a double bed, ensuite bathroon and swimming pool! You don't realize how much those little extras start to count until you have suffered a little), I headed off to the river banks to jump on an all-day boat tour of the the ruins at Kaunus, the Turtle Beach, the lake and the mud baths - also worth the money spent, even though the mud baths were overflowing with people. It made it a little difficult to relax in the grey muck when there was 100 other people in the small pool with you. It's also like walking into a room full of aliens - as everyone is walking around covered head to toe in muck at varıous stages of the drying process (girls, this is the ultimate full body mud pack treatment) and speaking a million different languages, none of which are English. Surreal. So after your whole body is dried and crackling, you herd off to the group alien hose-down, a bit like the Coca-Cola Cool Zones at Six Flags, but with the water pressure of a coin operated car wash. You need it though to get all of that gunk off of you, and suddenly the aliens emerge as fully human tourists once again. I think I still have some mud in places I don't want to talk about... That night I went for a nice dinner all by my lonesome at a lovely spot by the river. I tell ya what, as much as I am enjoying traveling alone and not being tied to anyone else's schedule, Dalyan is a bit of a romantic spot, and I would have given anything to have someone there to watch the sunset with. Some days, your own company just ain't enough. I got over it though. Had a glass of wine with dinner and got a great night's sleep.
This morning I headed out to Fethiye. After nearly sweating to death waiting for the dolmus (mimi-bus) to take off, I had to endure a 10 minute diatribe by an aging Englishman on the problems of the world all being caused by the "overpopulation" (yes, he actually used that word) of blacks and the Pakis in the cities. I thought I was going to puke. Let's not take a good look at reality or anything, Mr... Let's just blame it on the blacks and Pakis. Welcome to the 21st century, where racism is alive and well. People like that don't deserve my energy. Once he shut up, the rest of the ride was absolutely breathtaking. Turkey is far from the desert I had exiected. The climate is arid, but the countryside is unbelievable. Mountains spring up from the flat valleys seemingly from nowhere and are covered in crisp smelling pine forests. We snaked around and around the hills, passing tractors pulling cartloads of watermelons on blind curves with no guardrails in sight, until though a break in the trees we were able to catch a glimpse of the turquoise waters below. I damn near cried from the sheer beauty of it all. A Turkish couple sitting behind me said, "It's like a dream, isn't it? The most beautiful place in the world." I chatted with them the rest of the trip, and was offered a place to stay in Bursa anytime I wanted to visit. The people in Turkey are even more beautiful than the countryside.
I booked my 4 day boat cruise to Olympos for Tuesday, and will spend the next couple of days seeing the sights around Fethiye. The mountains here plunge directly into the sea, and the city itself hugs the shoreline of an insanely beautiful bay. About 7 km away is a Greek villag ethat was mysteriously abandoned in 1923 called Kaya Köy that should be interesting to see. Then I'll head off to the beach for the afternoon at Ölüdenız. Who knows what from there. I'll keep ya posted!
I can truly see why people would come here and never want to leave. It is absolutely gorgeous. For the past two days I have been in a small town called Dalyan, famous for being a nesting site for loggerhead turtles (not that they're running around all over the place or anything, but they nest at night on the protected beaches). Dalyan itself is nestled upriver about 13 km from the beach, facing sheer rock cliffs that are dotted with ancient Lycean tombs carved straight into the faces - huge temples to the dead hanging hundreds of feet above the banks of the river. It's quite stunning at night to see them all lit up. On my first night in Dalyan I took a cruise up to the lake guided by a Scottish astronomer. I got to see Mercury, Venus and Jupiter, as well as many other cool things like star clusters and red giants and binaries and other geeky stuff like that, through high powered binoculars (boat isn't steady enough for telescopes, plus most of their equipment is hung up in customs). The guide, Duncan, evidently made quite a bit of money back in the 70's off a book he wrote claiming that he had been able to interpret a message from outer space. He also must have spent a lot of that money doing some serious drugs, because he was a little "out there" himself. Definitely one of those "off the beaten track" activities, but worth the money spent. I had an absolute miserable nights sleep, as the window of the hotel room I was in was blocked by a large bureau, and there was no air whatsoever. I seriously thought I was going to suffocate. At 7:30 the next morning I got up and moved to another place and was a much happier girl.
So after settling into my new hotel (same price I was paying for a twin bed in a stuffy closet for a double bed, ensuite bathroon and swimming pool! You don't realize how much those little extras start to count until you have suffered a little), I headed off to the river banks to jump on an all-day boat tour of the the ruins at Kaunus, the Turtle Beach, the lake and the mud baths - also worth the money spent, even though the mud baths were overflowing with people. It made it a little difficult to relax in the grey muck when there was 100 other people in the small pool with you. It's also like walking into a room full of aliens - as everyone is walking around covered head to toe in muck at varıous stages of the drying process (girls, this is the ultimate full body mud pack treatment) and speaking a million different languages, none of which are English. Surreal. So after your whole body is dried and crackling, you herd off to the group alien hose-down, a bit like the Coca-Cola Cool Zones at Six Flags, but with the water pressure of a coin operated car wash. You need it though to get all of that gunk off of you, and suddenly the aliens emerge as fully human tourists once again. I think I still have some mud in places I don't want to talk about... That night I went for a nice dinner all by my lonesome at a lovely spot by the river. I tell ya what, as much as I am enjoying traveling alone and not being tied to anyone else's schedule, Dalyan is a bit of a romantic spot, and I would have given anything to have someone there to watch the sunset with. Some days, your own company just ain't enough. I got over it though. Had a glass of wine with dinner and got a great night's sleep.
This morning I headed out to Fethiye. After nearly sweating to death waiting for the dolmus (mimi-bus) to take off, I had to endure a 10 minute diatribe by an aging Englishman on the problems of the world all being caused by the "overpopulation" (yes, he actually used that word) of blacks and the Pakis in the cities. I thought I was going to puke. Let's not take a good look at reality or anything, Mr... Let's just blame it on the blacks and Pakis. Welcome to the 21st century, where racism is alive and well. People like that don't deserve my energy. Once he shut up, the rest of the ride was absolutely breathtaking. Turkey is far from the desert I had exiected. The climate is arid, but the countryside is unbelievable. Mountains spring up from the flat valleys seemingly from nowhere and are covered in crisp smelling pine forests. We snaked around and around the hills, passing tractors pulling cartloads of watermelons on blind curves with no guardrails in sight, until though a break in the trees we were able to catch a glimpse of the turquoise waters below. I damn near cried from the sheer beauty of it all. A Turkish couple sitting behind me said, "It's like a dream, isn't it? The most beautiful place in the world." I chatted with them the rest of the trip, and was offered a place to stay in Bursa anytime I wanted to visit. The people in Turkey are even more beautiful than the countryside.
I booked my 4 day boat cruise to Olympos for Tuesday, and will spend the next couple of days seeing the sights around Fethiye. The mountains here plunge directly into the sea, and the city itself hugs the shoreline of an insanely beautiful bay. About 7 km away is a Greek villag ethat was mysteriously abandoned in 1923 called Kaya Köy that should be interesting to see. Then I'll head off to the beach for the afternoon at Ölüdenız. Who knows what from there. I'll keep ya posted!
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Days 7 - 13 Bergama and Selçuk
I am a lazy cow. Really. I spent another day in Bergama, compliments of the hostel owner (he erased everything on my iPod on accident and felt terribly guilty about it), then headed off to Selçuk and Ephesus. I decided to stay at a hostel a little outside of the town, called Atilla's Getaway for a night or two to avoid the gazillions of people on the tour buses and relax for a bit. I was meant to stay one, maybe two nights... I've now been here 5. I am officially leaving tomorrow, but I am so glad I found this place. It's run by a Turkish-Australian family, meals are included, there's a pool and volleyball courts, and I can't say enough about the people. Alex, Lisa, Donna Lee and Carlos have been like family this week. We're having a ball - I was going to leave today, but Alex and Carlos "swore" there were no buses running today. I didn't really need an excuse to spend another lazy day.
So here's how my week went: The first day I lounged by the pool and read a book. The next day got up and went to Ephesus for the day. A word or two about Ephesus - STUNNING. You could almost feel what it must have been like to live in the city. In it's height, it had a population of 250,000 people. The marble streets are virtually intact. The houses had hot and cold running water, there's a complete underground sewage system, and many of the major buildings, like the library, have been carefully restored. If any of you ever come to Turkey (which I highly recommend), this is an absolute MUST SEE. That night danced and drank at the bar all night. Spent the next day lounging in the cushioned area, swimming, sleeping by the pool. Day 4, whıch just happened to be the 4th of July, I got up and went to Pamukkale for the day. I've been here nearly 2 full weeks now, and have hardly run into a single American (lot's of Aussies and Kiwis tho). Somehow, all 10 of us on the shuttle to Pammukale were American. I ended up spending the day walking around with two girls around my age, maybe a little younger, and their mom, on a "last chance" girls' trip as the daughters live on opposite coasts, and mom lives in Chicago. They were truly delightful company, and it felt really nice to be a part of someone's family even if was just for the day. One of the girls lives ın San Diego (and speaks 6 languages!), so we swapped emails with promises of exchanging the photos we took all day. Pamukkale itself was pretty spectacular, even though many of the mineral pools no longer have water in them. You're driving along in the middle of no where on a dirt road, then suddenly you turn a corner and the whole hillslde looks like it has been frosted for a wedding cake. Thousands of years of calcium deposits from the natural spring have turned the hills into a blinding white terraced sculpture dotted with small blue pools whose waters are touted to have healing powers. Pretty damn cool. Next day, lazed by the pool all day. I'm getting quite a tan at this point and I've got nothing but beach ahead of me. Yeah! Today, I'm just hanging out in town trying to catch up on email (the internet has been out all week at the hostel). I'm about to head back and take a nap by the pool. Life is realllllly rough.
Tomorrow I'm heading out to Dalyan, where loggerhead turtles come in to nest, and from there... not really sure yet. I'll keep ya posted. :)
So here's how my week went: The first day I lounged by the pool and read a book. The next day got up and went to Ephesus for the day. A word or two about Ephesus - STUNNING. You could almost feel what it must have been like to live in the city. In it's height, it had a population of 250,000 people. The marble streets are virtually intact. The houses had hot and cold running water, there's a complete underground sewage system, and many of the major buildings, like the library, have been carefully restored. If any of you ever come to Turkey (which I highly recommend), this is an absolute MUST SEE. That night danced and drank at the bar all night. Spent the next day lounging in the cushioned area, swimming, sleeping by the pool. Day 4, whıch just happened to be the 4th of July, I got up and went to Pamukkale for the day. I've been here nearly 2 full weeks now, and have hardly run into a single American (lot's of Aussies and Kiwis tho). Somehow, all 10 of us on the shuttle to Pammukale were American. I ended up spending the day walking around with two girls around my age, maybe a little younger, and their mom, on a "last chance" girls' trip as the daughters live on opposite coasts, and mom lives in Chicago. They were truly delightful company, and it felt really nice to be a part of someone's family even if was just for the day. One of the girls lives ın San Diego (and speaks 6 languages!), so we swapped emails with promises of exchanging the photos we took all day. Pamukkale itself was pretty spectacular, even though many of the mineral pools no longer have water in them. You're driving along in the middle of no where on a dirt road, then suddenly you turn a corner and the whole hillslde looks like it has been frosted for a wedding cake. Thousands of years of calcium deposits from the natural spring have turned the hills into a blinding white terraced sculpture dotted with small blue pools whose waters are touted to have healing powers. Pretty damn cool. Next day, lazed by the pool all day. I'm getting quite a tan at this point and I've got nothing but beach ahead of me. Yeah! Today, I'm just hanging out in town trying to catch up on email (the internet has been out all week at the hostel). I'm about to head back and take a nap by the pool. Life is realllllly rough.
Tomorrow I'm heading out to Dalyan, where loggerhead turtles come in to nest, and from there... not really sure yet. I'll keep ya posted. :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Day 6 - Troy and Bergama
I got up early this morning and took a tour of Troy that was exceptionally nice, considering I have sworn off tours for the rest of the trip. Our guide had been giving h=this tour for 30 years, and has even written a book about Troy. It wasn't that much to look at, but it's still cool to say I've been there now.
From there, I went back to Canukkale and took another bus to Bergama (aka Pergamum). I'm staying in the quaintest litte pension. It's an old (160 years OLD) Ottoman house with a charming courtyard and a rooftop deck that is only accessable by a very rickety ladder. From the top you can see the ruins of the ancient city's Acropolis on top of the hill that overlooks the "modern" Bergama. Most of the town is still in the old Ottoman fashion, albeit somewhat crumbling, and it is absolutely adorable. I damn near gave this place a miss, and I am so glad I didn't. Anyway, in the entry way to the house is a birds' nest that houses six baby birds that just learned to fly. They entertain themselves by zooming around the courtyard in a tight spiral around each other. The place is owned by a mother and son, he speaks perfect English, while she speaks almost none. She is the epitome of an old Turkish woman, down to the headscarf, round face, and toothless but genuinly warm smile. He is a bigger techie geek than I am. He's got this place set-up for wireless internet access, and even has a laptop for guests to use while sitting on their favorite balcony.
I took a little stroll around town this evening, and came across the ruins of an old basilica that I don't know much about yet. I'm going to go check it out tomorrow. Aydin (the son) says that it is one of seven churches mentioned in the bible. Just the size of the thing is impressive, I can't wait to figure out the history of it. Anyway, must go to bed now, as I have a 5k hike up the side of a steep hill to get to the ruins tomorrow. Ciao for now!
From there, I went back to Canukkale and took another bus to Bergama (aka Pergamum). I'm staying in the quaintest litte pension. It's an old (160 years OLD) Ottoman house with a charming courtyard and a rooftop deck that is only accessable by a very rickety ladder. From the top you can see the ruins of the ancient city's Acropolis on top of the hill that overlooks the "modern" Bergama. Most of the town is still in the old Ottoman fashion, albeit somewhat crumbling, and it is absolutely adorable. I damn near gave this place a miss, and I am so glad I didn't. Anyway, in the entry way to the house is a birds' nest that houses six baby birds that just learned to fly. They entertain themselves by zooming around the courtyard in a tight spiral around each other. The place is owned by a mother and son, he speaks perfect English, while she speaks almost none. She is the epitome of an old Turkish woman, down to the headscarf, round face, and toothless but genuinly warm smile. He is a bigger techie geek than I am. He's got this place set-up for wireless internet access, and even has a laptop for guests to use while sitting on their favorite balcony.
I took a little stroll around town this evening, and came across the ruins of an old basilica that I don't know much about yet. I'm going to go check it out tomorrow. Aydin (the son) says that it is one of seven churches mentioned in the bible. Just the size of the thing is impressive, I can't wait to figure out the history of it. Anyway, must go to bed now, as I have a 5k hike up the side of a steep hill to get to the ruins tomorrow. Ciao for now!
Days 4 and 5 - Istanbul and Canukkale
(Again, copied from journal)
Sunday night went out to diner with Enver and to the top of a cool hotel to check out the view over a glass of wine. We met a really interesting Kiwi guy who was an earthquake engineer - works all over the world helping governments install warning systems. He said if an earthquake ever hit Istanbul (and it's only a matter of time) that the casualties would be astronomical. Not a very good sign, considering there are between 12-18 million people in the city. Yikes!
Got up Monday morning and took a stroll through the Grand Bazaar/ My GOD I have never seen anything like that in my entire life. It literally encompases what seems like miles and miles of space - stall after stall after stall of jewelry, carpets, inlaid woodn chotchkies, ceramics, clothes, you name it - it's there/ It's is truly mind boggling. I was looking at a particular bracelet at one stall and when it didn't fit, I was quickly ushered deeper into the mayhem to another stall, and when nothing in that stall suited my fancy either, the chase was on again. I was finally able to make my escape, but at that point I was hopelessly lost in the rat maze. I felt like I was walking around in circles, but there was really no way to tell as all the stalls start to look the same. I suddenly understood the logic of bread crumbs. An hour and a half of wandering did finally get me back to the entrance where I had come in and back to alovely pair of chandelier earrings tht I just couldn't walk away from. After a bit of bargaining, they were dangling prettily from my lobes.
From there, I sprinted down the crowded side streets (I don't know how, or for that matter WHY, they get cars down those streets) to Eminonu to catch a ferry up the Bosphorous for the second time - this time in daylight though. I was Shanghai'd by a private tour operator who tried to get me on the boat for 20 lira (about $15). I lauged at him and told him I could get on the normal ferry for 7 lira and it was a longer trip. He caved and let me on the boat (which was much nicer than the normal ferry) for 10. Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this bargaining business. It was a lovely two hours spent reading and wishing I owned one of the big fat fancy houses (or summer palaces) along the channel. Afterwards, I treated myself to an incredible (albeit expensive) seafood lunch by the water. I didn't even get freaked out about having to debone and dehead the fish myself. Proud of me for that.
Tuesday I got up and got on a shuttle bus to the bus station so I could head off to Canukkale (nearest place to Troy). The shuttle bus driver was insane, but in a good sort of way. He had a heavy mustache and about 5 teeth, and was sweating so badly the whole way to the station that I honestly thought he might drown. Even so, he insisted on playing house music and guessing what language they were singing in, all while waving his arms and bopping in his seat like a teenager, reaching over occasionally to slap my thigh and laugh out loud. Completely nutso/ However, if it hadn't been from him, I would have never caught my bus. As we were nearing the station, he pointed out the window to the left at an anthill crawling with giant ants that turned out to be busses... the biggest bus station I have ever seen. 5 levels of spiraling ramps, entrances, exits, buildings and thousands of buses. It was a city all in itself. Incredible.
The bus to Canakkale was one of the nicest I've ever been on - comfy seats, tea and cake service, and air conditioned. I sat next to a young Turkish girl who just finished University and is off to Canada at the end of the summer for an intensive English course. She offered up her home if I wasn't satisfied with the hostel. The kindness and genrousity of the Turkish people continues to amaze me. I didn't take her up on her offer, but was impressed by it anyway.
So last night I experienced my first Turkish bath. I say my first, because it definitely won't be my last. Awesome!! I figured it would be a nice relaxing way to spend an evening, and I was so right. First they showed me into a room where you undress and wrap yourself in something like a sarong, but much much smaller. Then I was led into a cavernous steam room. The marble floors and benches were even warm. As the sweat started to pour off of me, so did all the tension in every part of my body. They left me in there until exactly the point where I didn't think I could take much more, then led me into a smaller room with little cubicles, each with their own marble benches and basins with running hot water. Then the real fun began. First the bathr strips down to her bra and underwear (not a pretty sight, as she was about 60 and rather doughy), then stripped me down to nada as she whipped my covering from me and whipped it around an overhead bar in one deft motion. Then she motioned for me to sit on the little step while she poured soothing warm water over me from the little basin and began to lather up my hair with soap. After an intense scalp massage, I was rinsed again. Then came the best, and grossest, part - exfoliation. She put this special mit over one hand, held onto the wall with the other and went to town. SCRUB SCRUB SCRUB. Layer after layer of dead skin came rolling off and dropped to the floor - I felt like she might actually scrub a limb completely off, but it felt soooo good. And these women are not shy, they scrub everything. I don't think I've actually scrubbed myself in some of those places before. After another good rinsing it was time to lay on the floor for a soapy deep-tissue massage. That woman had incredibly strong hands. By the time she was finished I felt smooth as glass and limp as a noodle. You know, I think the last time someone actually bathed me, I was about 6 years old. I would highly recommend it to anyone. There is really nothing like it. Afterward, she wrapped me back in my sarong thingy, wrapped my head in a funky turban and led me to a seating area for some tea. Now that was a perfect evening. I topped it off with a bowl of homemade lentil soup and an ice cold Efes and was a completely happy girl.
Sunday night went out to diner with Enver and to the top of a cool hotel to check out the view over a glass of wine. We met a really interesting Kiwi guy who was an earthquake engineer - works all over the world helping governments install warning systems. He said if an earthquake ever hit Istanbul (and it's only a matter of time) that the casualties would be astronomical. Not a very good sign, considering there are between 12-18 million people in the city. Yikes!
Got up Monday morning and took a stroll through the Grand Bazaar/ My GOD I have never seen anything like that in my entire life. It literally encompases what seems like miles and miles of space - stall after stall after stall of jewelry, carpets, inlaid woodn chotchkies, ceramics, clothes, you name it - it's there/ It's is truly mind boggling. I was looking at a particular bracelet at one stall and when it didn't fit, I was quickly ushered deeper into the mayhem to another stall, and when nothing in that stall suited my fancy either, the chase was on again. I was finally able to make my escape, but at that point I was hopelessly lost in the rat maze. I felt like I was walking around in circles, but there was really no way to tell as all the stalls start to look the same. I suddenly understood the logic of bread crumbs. An hour and a half of wandering did finally get me back to the entrance where I had come in and back to alovely pair of chandelier earrings tht I just couldn't walk away from. After a bit of bargaining, they were dangling prettily from my lobes.
From there, I sprinted down the crowded side streets (I don't know how, or for that matter WHY, they get cars down those streets) to Eminonu to catch a ferry up the Bosphorous for the second time - this time in daylight though. I was Shanghai'd by a private tour operator who tried to get me on the boat for 20 lira (about $15). I lauged at him and told him I could get on the normal ferry for 7 lira and it was a longer trip. He caved and let me on the boat (which was much nicer than the normal ferry) for 10. Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this bargaining business. It was a lovely two hours spent reading and wishing I owned one of the big fat fancy houses (or summer palaces) along the channel. Afterwards, I treated myself to an incredible (albeit expensive) seafood lunch by the water. I didn't even get freaked out about having to debone and dehead the fish myself. Proud of me for that.
Tuesday I got up and got on a shuttle bus to the bus station so I could head off to Canukkale (nearest place to Troy). The shuttle bus driver was insane, but in a good sort of way. He had a heavy mustache and about 5 teeth, and was sweating so badly the whole way to the station that I honestly thought he might drown. Even so, he insisted on playing house music and guessing what language they were singing in, all while waving his arms and bopping in his seat like a teenager, reaching over occasionally to slap my thigh and laugh out loud. Completely nutso/ However, if it hadn't been from him, I would have never caught my bus. As we were nearing the station, he pointed out the window to the left at an anthill crawling with giant ants that turned out to be busses... the biggest bus station I have ever seen. 5 levels of spiraling ramps, entrances, exits, buildings and thousands of buses. It was a city all in itself. Incredible.
The bus to Canakkale was one of the nicest I've ever been on - comfy seats, tea and cake service, and air conditioned. I sat next to a young Turkish girl who just finished University and is off to Canada at the end of the summer for an intensive English course. She offered up her home if I wasn't satisfied with the hostel. The kindness and genrousity of the Turkish people continues to amaze me. I didn't take her up on her offer, but was impressed by it anyway.
So last night I experienced my first Turkish bath. I say my first, because it definitely won't be my last. Awesome!! I figured it would be a nice relaxing way to spend an evening, and I was so right. First they showed me into a room where you undress and wrap yourself in something like a sarong, but much much smaller. Then I was led into a cavernous steam room. The marble floors and benches were even warm. As the sweat started to pour off of me, so did all the tension in every part of my body. They left me in there until exactly the point where I didn't think I could take much more, then led me into a smaller room with little cubicles, each with their own marble benches and basins with running hot water. Then the real fun began. First the bathr strips down to her bra and underwear (not a pretty sight, as she was about 60 and rather doughy), then stripped me down to nada as she whipped my covering from me and whipped it around an overhead bar in one deft motion. Then she motioned for me to sit on the little step while she poured soothing warm water over me from the little basin and began to lather up my hair with soap. After an intense scalp massage, I was rinsed again. Then came the best, and grossest, part - exfoliation. She put this special mit over one hand, held onto the wall with the other and went to town. SCRUB SCRUB SCRUB. Layer after layer of dead skin came rolling off and dropped to the floor - I felt like she might actually scrub a limb completely off, but it felt soooo good. And these women are not shy, they scrub everything. I don't think I've actually scrubbed myself in some of those places before. After another good rinsing it was time to lay on the floor for a soapy deep-tissue massage. That woman had incredibly strong hands. By the time she was finished I felt smooth as glass and limp as a noodle. You know, I think the last time someone actually bathed me, I was about 6 years old. I would highly recommend it to anyone. There is really nothing like it. Afterward, she wrapped me back in my sarong thingy, wrapped my head in a funky turban and led me to a seating area for some tea. Now that was a perfect evening. I topped it off with a bowl of homemade lentil soup and an ice cold Efes and was a completely happy girl.
Day 3 - Istanbul
(This is copied straight out of my journal for June 26th)
I think my feet are going to fall off. Seriously. I can take no more walking.. need a few days on the beach. Immediately. Right now I'm sitting in a small cafe in the atrium between twobuildings enjoying a glass of red wine and letting my barking dogs have a rest. TOday I've been to the Archaelogical Museum, Dolmabace Palace (unbelievably opulent - saw world's biggest Baccarat crystal chandelier... oooooh), Taksim Square and walked down Istiklal Caddesi. Imagine 3rd Street Promanade in Santa Monica mixed with the architecture of Gran Via in Madrid and multiply the number of people in both places by about 100 and you've got Istiklal Caddesi - a mecca of cool shops, cafes and bars. Oh, add into that mix a 1960's San Fran style cable car that travels up and down the boulevard. The place just throbs with life. It's moments like that that I wish I had a traveling companion because it would have just been too cool to sit in one of the cafes above street level smoking flavored tobacco from a shisha, playing backgammon, and people watching. This is such an amazing city.
Tomorrow is going to be a shopping day - sort of. I want to see the Grand Bazaar, but not buy anything yet so I don't have to carry it around with me. I'll probably head out tomorrow. It's time to relax for a bit. Sevi keeps offering to "help me" plan the rest of my trip, but as he is Mr. Travel Agent, I really think he's just trying to sell me stuff. I don't want to be tied to anyone's schedule right now. Oh I cannot wait to get out of tourist central and chillllll.
I think my feet are going to fall off. Seriously. I can take no more walking.. need a few days on the beach. Immediately. Right now I'm sitting in a small cafe in the atrium between twobuildings enjoying a glass of red wine and letting my barking dogs have a rest. TOday I've been to the Archaelogical Museum, Dolmabace Palace (unbelievably opulent - saw world's biggest Baccarat crystal chandelier... oooooh), Taksim Square and walked down Istiklal Caddesi. Imagine 3rd Street Promanade in Santa Monica mixed with the architecture of Gran Via in Madrid and multiply the number of people in both places by about 100 and you've got Istiklal Caddesi - a mecca of cool shops, cafes and bars. Oh, add into that mix a 1960's San Fran style cable car that travels up and down the boulevard. The place just throbs with life. It's moments like that that I wish I had a traveling companion because it would have just been too cool to sit in one of the cafes above street level smoking flavored tobacco from a shisha, playing backgammon, and people watching. This is such an amazing city.
Tomorrow is going to be a shopping day - sort of. I want to see the Grand Bazaar, but not buy anything yet so I don't have to carry it around with me. I'll probably head out tomorrow. It's time to relax for a bit. Sevi keeps offering to "help me" plan the rest of my trip, but as he is Mr. Travel Agent, I really think he's just trying to sell me stuff. I don't want to be tied to anyone's schedule right now. Oh I cannot wait to get out of tourist central and chillllll.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Day 2 - Istanbul
Ok, so I was actıng lıke a 12 year old, but I sure dıdn't feel lıke ıt when I got up the next day... at noon. So feedıng off my need for a more ınformatıon about the mosques, I decıded to take a half day tour of the Suleymane Mosque (the largest one ın Istanbul) and the Topkapı Palace. What a waste of money. The tourguıde saved me 1/2 an hour of standıng ın lıne for tıckets and dıdn't add anythıng to the tour that wasn't already posted on the plaques on the walls. Oh well, lesson learned, no more guıded tours. RIP OFF. However, ıt was stıll really cool to see the Sultan's palace and the 86 carat dıamond housed there. WOW. I made a mad dash after the tour about 5pm to get my fıll of a guılty pleasure (and hangover helper) - Mc Donald's. Yeah, I know. A cıty full of fantastıc turkısh food, and I go to Mc Donald's. It won't happen agaın.
As I left McDonald's I heard a "psst-pssssssst." I just managed to turn my head enough to shoot the culprıt a dırty look only to fınd one of the coaster-throwıng crew from the nıght before sıttıng out ın front of hıs shop havıng tea. I sat down and joıned hım and some frıends for a chat and they sent me off to fınd a lıttle mosque (Rümen Paşa) that they swore was the most beautıful one ın all of Istanbul. It was tucked down among the stalls ın the spıce market, and I had no choıce but to take a wander through ın order to fınd ıt. The smells comıng from that place were out of thıs world - cınamon and peppers and vanılla and I don't know what... but ıt was wonderful! Aısle after aısle of bıg burlap bags full of thıngs that I'd never heard of - green powders, red powders, yellow powders, seeds and herbs and teas and *sıgh* awesome. And somewhere at the end of an aısle a small set of worn and crooked marble staırs led ınto the darkness. That was my stop. I took off my shoes and stepped ınsıde and was ımmedıately blown away. The ınsıde of thıs mosque was completely covered ın hand paınted tıles from floor to ceılıng. Absolutely stunnıng. As I was the only one there, I sat down on the floor (after takıng a few photos) and just lıstened. Even though ıt was ınfınıtely smaller, the same sense of vastness and peace fılled the buıldıng. A few other tourısts eventually found theır way through the market and wandered ın. I took that as my cue to move on.
I went back to Halıl's shop to thank hım for the hınt and we wound up sıttıng ın a lıttle tea house for the next two hours where I was gıven a serıous lesson ın how poorly I actually play backgammon. Out of 14 games I won one. ONE. All those hours playıng agaınst my computer dıd me no good. Nor dıd the hours the magnıfıcent Mr. M and I spent playıng. I got schooled. Oh well. Guess that means I need to practıce.
That nıght Şhevı, Enver, Krısten, Dasıa (the folks from the other hostel) took a nıght cruıse on the Bosphorus to watch the fıreworks over the brıdge and to see all the Sultan's summer palaces along the water all lıt up. The fırst half of the cruıse went up the European sıde and we returned vıa the Asıan sıde. I've offıcıally been on two dıfferent contınents ın the space of an hour. Not bad.
As I left McDonald's I heard a "psst-pssssssst." I just managed to turn my head enough to shoot the culprıt a dırty look only to fınd one of the coaster-throwıng crew from the nıght before sıttıng out ın front of hıs shop havıng tea. I sat down and joıned hım and some frıends for a chat and they sent me off to fınd a lıttle mosque (Rümen Paşa) that they swore was the most beautıful one ın all of Istanbul. It was tucked down among the stalls ın the spıce market, and I had no choıce but to take a wander through ın order to fınd ıt. The smells comıng from that place were out of thıs world - cınamon and peppers and vanılla and I don't know what... but ıt was wonderful! Aısle after aısle of bıg burlap bags full of thıngs that I'd never heard of - green powders, red powders, yellow powders, seeds and herbs and teas and *sıgh* awesome. And somewhere at the end of an aısle a small set of worn and crooked marble staırs led ınto the darkness. That was my stop. I took off my shoes and stepped ınsıde and was ımmedıately blown away. The ınsıde of thıs mosque was completely covered ın hand paınted tıles from floor to ceılıng. Absolutely stunnıng. As I was the only one there, I sat down on the floor (after takıng a few photos) and just lıstened. Even though ıt was ınfınıtely smaller, the same sense of vastness and peace fılled the buıldıng. A few other tourısts eventually found theır way through the market and wandered ın. I took that as my cue to move on.
I went back to Halıl's shop to thank hım for the hınt and we wound up sıttıng ın a lıttle tea house for the next two hours where I was gıven a serıous lesson ın how poorly I actually play backgammon. Out of 14 games I won one. ONE. All those hours playıng agaınst my computer dıd me no good. Nor dıd the hours the magnıfıcent Mr. M and I spent playıng. I got schooled. Oh well. Guess that means I need to practıce.
That nıght Şhevı, Enver, Krısten, Dasıa (the folks from the other hostel) took a nıght cruıse on the Bosphorus to watch the fıreworks over the brıdge and to see all the Sultan's summer palaces along the water all lıt up. The fırst half of the cruıse went up the European sıde and we returned vıa the Asıan sıde. I've offıcıally been on two dıfferent contınents ın the space of an hour. Not bad.
Day 1 - Istanbul
I should begin by saying that my fears about being lonely on the road have been quickly abated. Whether or not that is a good thing, I still haven't decided. I had at least 20 offers for "private" tours of Istanbul in the first 20 minutes of walking around. Most just don't understand why I am traveling alone. "Why you by yourself? You so pretty. I can heeeeelp you." Yeah. Right. I don't need that kind of help, thanks anyway. I keep trying to think of a better answer than "No, thanks," but somehow I think telling them I'm a lesbian or something might get me in more trouble than just ignoring them.
(I should also say that I am having hell with this keyboard, because Turkish has several letters that we don't, and that has shifted some things into some odd places on the keyboard - punctuation isn't where it's supposed to be, and there are strange symbols coming out where letters ought to be. So if this starts to look a little wonky, well.... sorry. Wonky ıs a new word that I have picked up from Captain Canadian. I like it!!)
SO, my flıght got in Thursday afternoon around 5:30 pm. The hostel/hotel manager picked me up at the aırport, and whisked me away through the cıty. We took a road that ran rıght along the shorelıne. Brıghtly colored wooden fıshıng boats bobbed lıke corks ın theır tıght moorıngs whıle rıver cruısers and barges and gıant tankers lıned up ın the dıstance awaıtıng theır turn to pass up the Bosphorous ınto the Black Sea. We passed the ancıent cıty walls (or what's left of them, they are a few hundred years old, after all.) and ınto Sultanahmet, the old part of the cıty, where the streets suddednly truned from broad modern avenues ınto wındy cobbled streets that seemed to make no sense. I got to the hotel around 6:30 pm, checked into the smallest room you have ever seen, and headed up to the roof to watch the sunset over the Marmaras Sea. Ok, I had a couple of hours to kıll before sunset, so I grabbed some beers and a book fırst. Dırectly ın front of the hotel are the ruıns of a very old mosque and another very old mosque that ıs stıll standıng (and quıte beautıful). Growıng out of the top of the mınaret of the ruıned mosque ıs a very tıny lıttle tree, rıght out of the brıcks - a lone survıvor wavıng to the world. And dırectly ın front of that ıs the sea. Nıce. I spent the rest of the evenıng havıng a bbq wıth half the famıly that runs the hotel. Homemade kofte (meatballs), salad, goat cheese, olıves, and of course plenty of rakı.
A lıttle note about Turkısh rakı vs. Kosovo rakı. You can actually drınk the Turkish versıon. Not the slıghtest hınt of jet fuel anywhere. It's a lovely anıse flavored lıquor sımılar to ouzo but wıthout the bıte. And there's an entıre rıtual that goes along wıth drınkıng ıt - none of thıs pour yourself a shot and bottoms up busıness. Fırst you have to set the table properly: the rakı ıs cut wıth equal parts water, a second glass of water, goat cheese, cucumbers, black olıves, salamı, and of course, sweet melon (looks lıke honeydew, tastes lıke canteloupe - YUM). Then ıt's one drınk of rakı, one drınk of water, one bıte of cheese, one bıte of melon, one black olıve. Repeat untıl the bottle ıs gone or you fall out of your chaır - whıchever comes fırst. I sat on the roof wıth Şevı, the owner's nephew (who ıs marrıed to a former Fullbrıghter and lıves ın Oregon most of the year) and hıs frıend Arzu ( a total gem of a gırl who ınvıted me to go watch belly dancıng wıth her and her frıends the next nıght) untıl nearly mıdnıght. I had to call ıt a nıght so I could play super-tourıst all day Frıday. As much as I trıed however, I could get no sleep. My lıttle cubby of a room was on the fırst floor near receptıon, so between the groups of people come ın at all hours from partyıng and the hotel staff chattıng ıt up at the desk, I gave up at 6 am wıth only an hours sleep under my belt. I begged for a room on amother floor, and boy am I glad I dıd. I was moved from my lıttel cubby hole wıth no bathroom to a double room wıth a bath and an ocean vıew (all for a mere $5 a nıght more). So happy!! My week's stay ın Istanbul was stıll under $100.
So after a quıck nap untıl 10 am, I got up and super-tourıst I was!! I hıt the Blue Mosque, the Aya Sofıa, the Basılıca Cısterns (9800 square meters of a 6th century water storage room fed by old roman aqueducts), back alley markets, and a long walk along the sea wall around the outsıde of the Tokapı Palace and then through the gardens and along the Dıvan Yolu untıl my feet hurt so bad I couldn't walk anymore. I would love to descrıbe the feel of the two mosques, but vast, beautıfu, and peaceful just don't quıte convey the rıght feelıngs. If you've ever been alone ın the woods just at dusk before the ınsects have come out to play and the bırds have quıted down before the feast - you know that other creatures (people) are there, but ıt's really easy to forge... you can feel your heart beatıng and hear every breath... that would get you pretty close to the feelıng of steppıng ınto one of these gıants. Not even St. Peter's Basılıca ın Rome had the same feelıng of space and solıtude. Then there's the artwork - the mosaıcs and ıntrıcate desıgns, the handpaınted tıles... I'll post some pıcs as soon as I am able. I never thought I would hear myself say taht I wıshed I had an art hıstory genıus wıth me, but I dıd. I would have loved to hear what all of the dıfferent thıngs sıgnıfıed. I would have even taken Ricardo, our alcoholıc art hıstory professor ın Spaın that treated us all lıke we were kındergarteners, just to get some of the hıstory. (Jess, I can feel you rollıng your eyes at that one - c'mon, you know you mıss hım!)
Sultanahmet ıs crawlıng wıth tourısts, as thıs ıs where many of the maın attractıons are, and you can hear any language at any gıven moment (lots of Spanıards). The amazıng thıng ıs the shop keepers... they speak enough of any gıven language to sell theır goods to anyone. It's truly amazıng. However, thıs ıs not true of all Turkısh folks. At the lıttle famıly bbq, the uncle, alıttle round man ın hıs late 60's wıth a full head of whıte haır, turned and squarely faced me, looked me straıght ın the eye and saıd, "I am lıar." It took all of my energy to not laugh rıght ın hıs face, becuase I KNEW that wasn't what he meant, but I thought I'd gıve hım a lıttle tıme to fıx ıt. Şhevı dıdn't have that grace... he started to gıggle and the old man looked at hım embarrassed, muttered somethıng ın Turkısh, and repeated "I am LIAR." Thıs ıs where Şhevı broke ın and saıd, "He's a lawyer." OH!!! (not much dıfference ıf you ask me... wınk wınk)
Frıday nıght I went out wıth Şevı, Arzu, her frıend Nalan, Gıorgıo (another one of the uncles tht runs the hostel whose name I can't pronounce, thus the ıtalıan versıon), and some other people from another hostel. It started wıth (yup, you guessed ıt) some rakı. Then we moved on to the bar where the belly dancıng was to take place. The DJ was spınnıng some great tunes, and we all boogıed our lıtle butts off untıl the show started (took gratuıtous hot belly dancer photos for Super Swede and Thorganızer's benefıt). We wound up ın another pub after that dancıng salsa, tradıtıonal Turkısh hankerchıef stuff (very sımılar to the Kosovar versıon), and got ınto a mad coaster hurlıng fıght wıth 3 other bar patrons and the bartender. Duckıng behınd doorways, ambushıng people when they came out of the bathroom - basıcally actıng lıke 12 year olds and havıng a blast. Fınally crawled home as the fırst prayer call was goıng out from our neıghborıng mosque. Slept lıke a baby.
Stay tuned for day 2.
(I should also say that I am having hell with this keyboard, because Turkish has several letters that we don't, and that has shifted some things into some odd places on the keyboard - punctuation isn't where it's supposed to be, and there are strange symbols coming out where letters ought to be. So if this starts to look a little wonky, well.... sorry. Wonky ıs a new word that I have picked up from Captain Canadian. I like it!!)
SO, my flıght got in Thursday afternoon around 5:30 pm. The hostel/hotel manager picked me up at the aırport, and whisked me away through the cıty. We took a road that ran rıght along the shorelıne. Brıghtly colored wooden fıshıng boats bobbed lıke corks ın theır tıght moorıngs whıle rıver cruısers and barges and gıant tankers lıned up ın the dıstance awaıtıng theır turn to pass up the Bosphorous ınto the Black Sea. We passed the ancıent cıty walls (or what's left of them, they are a few hundred years old, after all.) and ınto Sultanahmet, the old part of the cıty, where the streets suddednly truned from broad modern avenues ınto wındy cobbled streets that seemed to make no sense. I got to the hotel around 6:30 pm, checked into the smallest room you have ever seen, and headed up to the roof to watch the sunset over the Marmaras Sea. Ok, I had a couple of hours to kıll before sunset, so I grabbed some beers and a book fırst. Dırectly ın front of the hotel are the ruıns of a very old mosque and another very old mosque that ıs stıll standıng (and quıte beautıful). Growıng out of the top of the mınaret of the ruıned mosque ıs a very tıny lıttle tree, rıght out of the brıcks - a lone survıvor wavıng to the world. And dırectly ın front of that ıs the sea. Nıce. I spent the rest of the evenıng havıng a bbq wıth half the famıly that runs the hotel. Homemade kofte (meatballs), salad, goat cheese, olıves, and of course plenty of rakı.
A lıttle note about Turkısh rakı vs. Kosovo rakı. You can actually drınk the Turkish versıon. Not the slıghtest hınt of jet fuel anywhere. It's a lovely anıse flavored lıquor sımılar to ouzo but wıthout the bıte. And there's an entıre rıtual that goes along wıth drınkıng ıt - none of thıs pour yourself a shot and bottoms up busıness. Fırst you have to set the table properly: the rakı ıs cut wıth equal parts water, a second glass of water, goat cheese, cucumbers, black olıves, salamı, and of course, sweet melon (looks lıke honeydew, tastes lıke canteloupe - YUM). Then ıt's one drınk of rakı, one drınk of water, one bıte of cheese, one bıte of melon, one black olıve. Repeat untıl the bottle ıs gone or you fall out of your chaır - whıchever comes fırst. I sat on the roof wıth Şevı, the owner's nephew (who ıs marrıed to a former Fullbrıghter and lıves ın Oregon most of the year) and hıs frıend Arzu ( a total gem of a gırl who ınvıted me to go watch belly dancıng wıth her and her frıends the next nıght) untıl nearly mıdnıght. I had to call ıt a nıght so I could play super-tourıst all day Frıday. As much as I trıed however, I could get no sleep. My lıttle cubby of a room was on the fırst floor near receptıon, so between the groups of people come ın at all hours from partyıng and the hotel staff chattıng ıt up at the desk, I gave up at 6 am wıth only an hours sleep under my belt. I begged for a room on amother floor, and boy am I glad I dıd. I was moved from my lıttel cubby hole wıth no bathroom to a double room wıth a bath and an ocean vıew (all for a mere $5 a nıght more). So happy!! My week's stay ın Istanbul was stıll under $100.
So after a quıck nap untıl 10 am, I got up and super-tourıst I was!! I hıt the Blue Mosque, the Aya Sofıa, the Basılıca Cısterns (9800 square meters of a 6th century water storage room fed by old roman aqueducts), back alley markets, and a long walk along the sea wall around the outsıde of the Tokapı Palace and then through the gardens and along the Dıvan Yolu untıl my feet hurt so bad I couldn't walk anymore. I would love to descrıbe the feel of the two mosques, but vast, beautıfu, and peaceful just don't quıte convey the rıght feelıngs. If you've ever been alone ın the woods just at dusk before the ınsects have come out to play and the bırds have quıted down before the feast - you know that other creatures (people) are there, but ıt's really easy to forge... you can feel your heart beatıng and hear every breath... that would get you pretty close to the feelıng of steppıng ınto one of these gıants. Not even St. Peter's Basılıca ın Rome had the same feelıng of space and solıtude. Then there's the artwork - the mosaıcs and ıntrıcate desıgns, the handpaınted tıles... I'll post some pıcs as soon as I am able. I never thought I would hear myself say taht I wıshed I had an art hıstory genıus wıth me, but I dıd. I would have loved to hear what all of the dıfferent thıngs sıgnıfıed. I would have even taken Ricardo, our alcoholıc art hıstory professor ın Spaın that treated us all lıke we were kındergarteners, just to get some of the hıstory. (Jess, I can feel you rollıng your eyes at that one - c'mon, you know you mıss hım!)
Sultanahmet ıs crawlıng wıth tourısts, as thıs ıs where many of the maın attractıons are, and you can hear any language at any gıven moment (lots of Spanıards). The amazıng thıng ıs the shop keepers... they speak enough of any gıven language to sell theır goods to anyone. It's truly amazıng. However, thıs ıs not true of all Turkısh folks. At the lıttle famıly bbq, the uncle, alıttle round man ın hıs late 60's wıth a full head of whıte haır, turned and squarely faced me, looked me straıght ın the eye and saıd, "I am lıar." It took all of my energy to not laugh rıght ın hıs face, becuase I KNEW that wasn't what he meant, but I thought I'd gıve hım a lıttle tıme to fıx ıt. Şhevı dıdn't have that grace... he started to gıggle and the old man looked at hım embarrassed, muttered somethıng ın Turkısh, and repeated "I am LIAR." Thıs ıs where Şhevı broke ın and saıd, "He's a lawyer." OH!!! (not much dıfference ıf you ask me... wınk wınk)
Frıday nıght I went out wıth Şevı, Arzu, her frıend Nalan, Gıorgıo (another one of the uncles tht runs the hostel whose name I can't pronounce, thus the ıtalıan versıon), and some other people from another hostel. It started wıth (yup, you guessed ıt) some rakı. Then we moved on to the bar where the belly dancıng was to take place. The DJ was spınnıng some great tunes, and we all boogıed our lıtle butts off untıl the show started (took gratuıtous hot belly dancer photos for Super Swede and Thorganızer's benefıt). We wound up ın another pub after that dancıng salsa, tradıtıonal Turkısh hankerchıef stuff (very sımılar to the Kosovar versıon), and got ınto a mad coaster hurlıng fıght wıth 3 other bar patrons and the bartender. Duckıng behınd doorways, ambushıng people when they came out of the bathroom - basıcally actıng lıke 12 year olds and havıng a blast. Fınally crawled home as the fırst prayer call was goıng out from our neıghborıng mosque. Slept lıke a baby.
Stay tuned for day 2.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
I'm offffff.....
Wouldn't you know it - I am leaving this afternoon (in about an hour) to begin my magnificent journey around Turkey, and I woke up this morning with a temperature of 101. I've felt it coming on all week, and i've been downing vitamins like candy, going to bed early and everything, but I still couldn't manage to keep it away. Poop. I'm on my way to the pharmacy right now for antibiotics and decongestants and antihistamines and anything else I can think of so that maybe I'll be feeling like a human tomorrow. If I have to spend two days hanging around the hostel trying to recover, so be it - I am going to Turkey today!!!! Yeah!!!
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
This past weekend was full of good times and good eats... I'm staying with Captain Canadian right now, and she's as much of a cook as I am (ok, she's even a better cook than I am) so we've been eating like queens these past few days. Breakfast burritos to die for Friday night, Pasta primavera Saturday night, English breakfast Sunday morning; huge pork BBQ, blue cheese potato salad, homemade cheesecake with fresh black cherry topping Sunday night; homemade bacon burgers last night - mmmmm... Lucky for the Super Swede that he's been invited to share in our delicacies - well, he actually provided the honey marinated pork tenderloin Sunday. If I ate like this all the time, I'd weigh a ton.
Anyway, the real reason for posting today is to let you all know that three new photo albums have been added to the collection: My Students, 2005-06 Greece Trips, and June Events. Mostly just a bunch of going away party photos (there have been a lot of those lately), but the pictures of Afytos, Greece are definitely worth a look. It was so incredibly beautiful there.
So I'm off for Turkey on Thursday.... going to pick up my plane tickets right now. Yeeeeehaw!!
Anyway, the real reason for posting today is to let you all know that three new photo albums have been added to the collection: My Students, 2005-06 Greece Trips, and June Events. Mostly just a bunch of going away party photos (there have been a lot of those lately), but the pictures of Afytos, Greece are definitely worth a look. It was so incredibly beautiful there.
So I'm off for Turkey on Thursday.... going to pick up my plane tickets right now. Yeeeeehaw!!
Good food, good friends
This past weekend was full of good times and good eats... I'm staying with Captain Canadian right now, and she's as much of a cook as I am (ok, she's even a better cook than I am) so we've been eating like queens these past few days. Breakfast burritos to die for Friday night, Pasta primavera Saturday night, English breakfast Sunday morning; huge pork BBQ, blue cheese potato salad, homemade cheesecake with fresh black cherry topping Sunday night; homemade bacon burgers last night - mmmmm... Lucky for the Super Swede that he's been invited to share in our delicacies - well, he actually provided the honey marinated pork tenderloin Sunday. If I ate like this all the time, I'd weigh a ton.
Anyway, the real reason for posting today is to let you all know that three new photo albums have been added to the collection: My Students, 2005-06 Greece Trips, and June Events. Mostly just a bunch of going away party photos (there have been a lot of those lately), but the pictures of Afytos, Greece are definitely worth a look. It was so incredibly beautiful there.
So I'm off for Turkey on Thursday.... going to pick up my plane tickets right now. Yeeeeehaw!!
Anyway, the real reason for posting today is to let you all know that three new photo albums have been added to the collection: My Students, 2005-06 Greece Trips, and June Events. Mostly just a bunch of going away party photos (there have been a lot of those lately), but the pictures of Afytos, Greece are definitely worth a look. It was so incredibly beautiful there.
So I'm off for Turkey on Thursday.... going to pick up my plane tickets right now. Yeeeeehaw!!
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Things I will miss about Prishtina....
This should be a short list... (just kidding)
1. My students!!
2. My friends!!
3. The Prishtina doorbell - standing outside someone's building and screaming their name over and over until they finally hear you from the 8th floor and start shouting back from the balcony. This usually takes place between 1 and 3 am or 7 and 9 am. Sleep? Who needs sleep?
4. The nightly street mudification - a new word I have coined that involves the practice of trying to tame the dust in this city by shooting thousands of gallons of water onto the streets, inducing nothing more than a river of mud running down the sidewalk. All of this while my apartment has no water after 10 pm. hmmmm.
5. Meeting the Saint at her "office" to complain about the state of the University, the state of the Union or the state of just about anything that needs complaining about. You're a rock, St. H!!
6. Camping in the living room - cooking over a one burner gas camp stove by candle light when the electricity goes out in the middle of dinner making. Very romantic party for one.
7. I would have said the Buda Bar, but since it got firebombed a few weeks ago and doesn't exist anymore, no point in that...
8. Weekend trips to Greece! (oh wait, I'm going to Turkey for a month - I'll survive. I will however be very sad to miss the big sailing trip to Corfu for Super Swede's going away party in September. BOO for going without me.)
9. Chinese at 1? twice a week. You go, Thorganizer. (That and deep fried Brie with raspberry coulis at Pjata - mmmmmmmmmmmmm.)
10. Complete mastery of American-centric Trivial Pursuit, I Spy and Alphabetical Countries/Animal noises games by the Wicked Brit, accompanied by a bottle of Bailey's.
I mean, seriously, what's not to miss?? There's so much more, but since it's nearing lunchtime (Chinese at 1??) and my tummy is a rumbling, I can't manage to focus on much more. See what happens when I get bored? I start writing nonsense. Nonsense nonsense nonsense. Love it!
1. My students!!
2. My friends!!
3. The Prishtina doorbell - standing outside someone's building and screaming their name over and over until they finally hear you from the 8th floor and start shouting back from the balcony. This usually takes place between 1 and 3 am or 7 and 9 am. Sleep? Who needs sleep?
4. The nightly street mudification - a new word I have coined that involves the practice of trying to tame the dust in this city by shooting thousands of gallons of water onto the streets, inducing nothing more than a river of mud running down the sidewalk. All of this while my apartment has no water after 10 pm. hmmmm.
5. Meeting the Saint at her "office" to complain about the state of the University, the state of the Union or the state of just about anything that needs complaining about. You're a rock, St. H!!
6. Camping in the living room - cooking over a one burner gas camp stove by candle light when the electricity goes out in the middle of dinner making. Very romantic party for one.
7. I would have said the Buda Bar, but since it got firebombed a few weeks ago and doesn't exist anymore, no point in that...
8. Weekend trips to Greece! (oh wait, I'm going to Turkey for a month - I'll survive. I will however be very sad to miss the big sailing trip to Corfu for Super Swede's going away party in September. BOO for going without me.)
9. Chinese at 1? twice a week. You go, Thorganizer. (That and deep fried Brie with raspberry coulis at Pjata - mmmmmmmmmmmmm.)
10. Complete mastery of American-centric Trivial Pursuit, I Spy and Alphabetical Countries/Animal noises games by the Wicked Brit, accompanied by a bottle of Bailey's.
I mean, seriously, what's not to miss?? There's so much more, but since it's nearing lunchtime (Chinese at 1??) and my tummy is a rumbling, I can't manage to focus on much more. See what happens when I get bored? I start writing nonsense. Nonsense nonsense nonsense. Love it!
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Side note...
Ah, another amazing thing happened to me that has renewed my faith in humanity. I mentioned before that my wallet was stolen. Cancelled all credit cards, spent a fortune getting a new one here, etc. etc. etc.
About 5 days after it had happened, I got a phone call from my landlord's daughter asking if I had lost my "pocket" (my guess a bad translation from Albanian). I had indeed!! A man had found it walking down the street, handed it over to his daughter who spoke English, thanks to a water bill receipt that was still in my wallet she was able to call the phone company and get the number of my landlord, who in turn called me. I got the whole thing back, minus the Macedonian money - creditcards, driver's license, EVERYTHING. It was brilliant.
My point is that someone went through an awful lot of trouble to track me down, and I am so thankful. I'm in a relatively difficult situation to try and replace certain documents (like a driver's license) and for them to be returned to me was such a great thing.
Ok, I seriously must finish packing now.
About 5 days after it had happened, I got a phone call from my landlord's daughter asking if I had lost my "pocket" (my guess a bad translation from Albanian). I had indeed!! A man had found it walking down the street, handed it over to his daughter who spoke English, thanks to a water bill receipt that was still in my wallet she was able to call the phone company and get the number of my landlord, who in turn called me. I got the whole thing back, minus the Macedonian money - creditcards, driver's license, EVERYTHING. It was brilliant.
My point is that someone went through an awful lot of trouble to track me down, and I am so thankful. I'm in a relatively difficult situation to try and replace certain documents (like a driver's license) and for them to be returned to me was such a great thing.
Ok, I seriously must finish packing now.
It's all over now....
It's done. I have 2 more "indeks" to sign, and the school year is officially over. I feel like this should be an entry where I reflect on the happenings of the past year and revel in all that I have learned.... BUT, I have to move out of my apartment today and so it goes. Nothing more than a brief recap of my boring life right now. There will be some of that later, I'm sure.
So I am giving up my adorable little apartment... so sad! I love my house. However, I am moving to a much bigger, much cheaper place up the hill a little bit. It's on the 11th floor (which is a pain in the watoosie when the electricity is out), but it has a nice view, stays warm, and like I said - it's half the rent. Yeah!!
I am in packing hell. I have to box up some things for storage (I don't actually move into that flat until September), pack some things for the States, and an entirely different set of packing for my travels.
OOH! I haven't talked about my travels yet. I am leaving sometime next week to travel for 5 weeks. Where am I going??? I will be spending 5 weeks traveling around Turkey - maybe a spot of Greece in there too. I will start in Istanbul, work my way down the west coast through Troy and Ephesus, take a 4 day boat cruise from Fethiye to Olympos where I will live in a tree house and hang out on the beach for a while, then move on to Anatolya, up through Cappadocia and Ankara, possibly hit the coast of the Black Sea if I have time, then back to Istanbul and Prishtina. Then I'm coming homeeeeee!!! (for what seems like a crazy whirlwind tour - no downtime whatsoever) I'll be in Texas 9-24, DC 24-28, LA 30-6, and back to Texas until the 12th or so. I can't wait to see y'all!!
In the midst of all this wandering around, I'll do my best to blog like a mad woman. I don't know about posting any pictures, so that may have to wait until I get home, but I promise to share all the gritty details of a woman traveling solo through a Muslim country. (Yes, paretnals, I'll check in often!)
So I am giving up my adorable little apartment... so sad! I love my house. However, I am moving to a much bigger, much cheaper place up the hill a little bit. It's on the 11th floor (which is a pain in the watoosie when the electricity is out), but it has a nice view, stays warm, and like I said - it's half the rent. Yeah!!
I am in packing hell. I have to box up some things for storage (I don't actually move into that flat until September), pack some things for the States, and an entirely different set of packing for my travels.
OOH! I haven't talked about my travels yet. I am leaving sometime next week to travel for 5 weeks. Where am I going??? I will be spending 5 weeks traveling around Turkey - maybe a spot of Greece in there too. I will start in Istanbul, work my way down the west coast through Troy and Ephesus, take a 4 day boat cruise from Fethiye to Olympos where I will live in a tree house and hang out on the beach for a while, then move on to Anatolya, up through Cappadocia and Ankara, possibly hit the coast of the Black Sea if I have time, then back to Istanbul and Prishtina. Then I'm coming homeeeeee!!! (for what seems like a crazy whirlwind tour - no downtime whatsoever) I'll be in Texas 9-24, DC 24-28, LA 30-6, and back to Texas until the 12th or so. I can't wait to see y'all!!
In the midst of all this wandering around, I'll do my best to blog like a mad woman. I don't know about posting any pictures, so that may have to wait until I get home, but I promise to share all the gritty details of a woman traveling solo through a Muslim country. (Yes, paretnals, I'll check in often!)
Monday, May 30, 2005
Puppies, Meltdowns, and End of Year Restlessness
SO it's been an exciting few days. Since we last spoke, so to speak, I've had my wallet stolen, I've placed the puppy in a home, I've discovered the depths of my claustrophobia and had a minor public meltdown, stood in a rainstorm with tall handsome Norwegian treats, and survived my last class of the school year. *sigh* Should I start from the beginning?
Wednesday night was Captain Canadian's 30th birthday, so the Frisbee Kids all went to a swank dinner and even swankier after dinner hang out. We were the only ones there, with the exception of a drunk dude sleeping in the corner. At least we thought he was sleeping. As we were all milling about, purses and jackets and stuff got piled on one table. I bought a round of adult beverages, and put my wallet back in my purse. At the end of the evening, I went back to my wallet to tip the bartender, and it was GONE. POOF. From what I can tell, whoever it was, was quick about it, because if he had spent anytime at all looking in my purse, he could have also had my passport, my cel phone and my digital camera. Instead, he got a wallet with about $5 worth of Macedonian money, my bank card (grr), my credit cards (grrrr) and my driver's license (grrrrrrrrr). I called my dad immediately and cancelled everything, so he basically got $5 for his trouble. SO THERE. Everything can be easily replaced except the driver's license, and thatit totally puts a damper on my plans for this summer, because now I can't rent a freakin' car. GRRRRRRRR. Oh well, I got a backpack and no problem with the bus. Can't stop me that easily. HA.
Then on Friday, the vets from the Animal Shelter of Kosovo came to visit me and Gizmo (that's what I named that sweet little baby). She got all her vaccinations and a clean bill of health. Earlier in the week I sent out an email to everyone I knew here to see if I could find her a home. As Albanians in general are terrified of dogs, I figured it would be a difficult task. I had 4 responses in an hour, so after her vet visit I sent her off to her new home in a big house outside of town with a big fenced in yard. :D Happy ending for the puppy. I, however, was heartbroken. She was an absolute angel. *sniffle sniffle*
So Saturday, the Frisbee kids and I headed to Skopje for an open air concert that promised to be much fun. Had it been remotely organized, it would have been fantastic. Let me frame the scene for you, 16 of us, some that knew each other and some that didn't, all piled into a small hotel room where the Swedish Mix Master (he makes the meanest drinks you've ever had) was force feeding cocktails to everyone. Norway's Finest brought along some of her Norwegian police officer friends - holy cow EYE CANDY (and yes, JUST eye candy - married. I still thank her for that though.), a couple of Americans and a Brit that was channeling all the energy from the entire Liverpool Footbal fanbase. The only thing that came out of his mouth for 2 days was along the lines of "yeah, Liverpool", except it had a bit more charm and humor as most comments British do. Anyway, so we all go to the venue at 9pm, an hour after the concert was supposed to have started, but they hadn't let anyone in yet. About 10:15 they open one little gate, about the size of the door to my bathroom, and all 5,000 people standing in the courtyard decided they needed to get in at once. ARG! Being short, it was all I could do to breathe amidst all the pushing and shoving and trampling and elbows and by the time I finally got through the gates I was in tears. Guess who doesn't like being in big, mean crowds anymore? I guess my mosh pit days are truly over. Damn. So IN we went. SMM, NF, the Eye Candy and I all went bustling toward the second gate to go hear the first band. Evidently everyone else stayed behind at the food and beer kiosk. Smart them. Within 30 minutes, the biggest thunderstorm I have ever experienced while standing in an open field broke out over the stage. I could see the wall of water coming toward me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I learned quickly what it feels like to shower with all of your clothes on in freezing cold water. I don't want to do that anymore. Fortunately a piece of Eye Candy grabbed me by the arm and we stood under the very edge of a large tent in the middle of the field. There were already 100 people under it, but because he was so tall, he could reach the edge of the tarp and hold it out a little ways so we could fit under it. Then more people crammed in and I was totally smooshed against this Norwegian god for half an hour. It sucked. (hahaha) While the ripples in his stomach were infinitely entertaining, the conversation skills were a little lacking. Boo. Eventually the rain stopped and we SMSd the others and found out they were warm and dry, still in the restaurant drinking beers. I wandered in looking remarkably like a drowned rat, and was immediately wrapped in other people's extra layers then handed hot food and cold beer. The night was looking up!! About midnight, the rain stopped enough for the concert to start. I managed to make it through about 45 minutes before wet, cold exhaustion got the best of me and I cabbed home with Capt. Canadian.
Today was my last official class of the year. I have 3 finals to give still, but basically, it's over. I'm moving out of my apartment in two weeks, and will hit the road as soon as my bank card arrives from the States. YEAH!!!!
So that's it for now. I've got to go grade some papers and write an exam. What's new with all of you?
Wednesday night was Captain Canadian's 30th birthday, so the Frisbee Kids all went to a swank dinner and even swankier after dinner hang out. We were the only ones there, with the exception of a drunk dude sleeping in the corner. At least we thought he was sleeping. As we were all milling about, purses and jackets and stuff got piled on one table. I bought a round of adult beverages, and put my wallet back in my purse. At the end of the evening, I went back to my wallet to tip the bartender, and it was GONE. POOF. From what I can tell, whoever it was, was quick about it, because if he had spent anytime at all looking in my purse, he could have also had my passport, my cel phone and my digital camera. Instead, he got a wallet with about $5 worth of Macedonian money, my bank card (grr), my credit cards (grrrr) and my driver's license (grrrrrrrrr). I called my dad immediately and cancelled everything, so he basically got $5 for his trouble. SO THERE. Everything can be easily replaced except the driver's license, and thatit totally puts a damper on my plans for this summer, because now I can't rent a freakin' car. GRRRRRRRR. Oh well, I got a backpack and no problem with the bus. Can't stop me that easily. HA.
Then on Friday, the vets from the Animal Shelter of Kosovo came to visit me and Gizmo (that's what I named that sweet little baby). She got all her vaccinations and a clean bill of health. Earlier in the week I sent out an email to everyone I knew here to see if I could find her a home. As Albanians in general are terrified of dogs, I figured it would be a difficult task. I had 4 responses in an hour, so after her vet visit I sent her off to her new home in a big house outside of town with a big fenced in yard. :D Happy ending for the puppy. I, however, was heartbroken. She was an absolute angel. *sniffle sniffle*
So Saturday, the Frisbee kids and I headed to Skopje for an open air concert that promised to be much fun. Had it been remotely organized, it would have been fantastic. Let me frame the scene for you, 16 of us, some that knew each other and some that didn't, all piled into a small hotel room where the Swedish Mix Master (he makes the meanest drinks you've ever had) was force feeding cocktails to everyone. Norway's Finest brought along some of her Norwegian police officer friends - holy cow EYE CANDY (and yes, JUST eye candy - married. I still thank her for that though.), a couple of Americans and a Brit that was channeling all the energy from the entire Liverpool Footbal fanbase. The only thing that came out of his mouth for 2 days was along the lines of "yeah, Liverpool", except it had a bit more charm and humor as most comments British do. Anyway, so we all go to the venue at 9pm, an hour after the concert was supposed to have started, but they hadn't let anyone in yet. About 10:15 they open one little gate, about the size of the door to my bathroom, and all 5,000 people standing in the courtyard decided they needed to get in at once. ARG! Being short, it was all I could do to breathe amidst all the pushing and shoving and trampling and elbows and by the time I finally got through the gates I was in tears. Guess who doesn't like being in big, mean crowds anymore? I guess my mosh pit days are truly over. Damn. So IN we went. SMM, NF, the Eye Candy and I all went bustling toward the second gate to go hear the first band. Evidently everyone else stayed behind at the food and beer kiosk. Smart them. Within 30 minutes, the biggest thunderstorm I have ever experienced while standing in an open field broke out over the stage. I could see the wall of water coming toward me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I learned quickly what it feels like to shower with all of your clothes on in freezing cold water. I don't want to do that anymore. Fortunately a piece of Eye Candy grabbed me by the arm and we stood under the very edge of a large tent in the middle of the field. There were already 100 people under it, but because he was so tall, he could reach the edge of the tarp and hold it out a little ways so we could fit under it. Then more people crammed in and I was totally smooshed against this Norwegian god for half an hour. It sucked. (hahaha) While the ripples in his stomach were infinitely entertaining, the conversation skills were a little lacking. Boo. Eventually the rain stopped and we SMSd the others and found out they were warm and dry, still in the restaurant drinking beers. I wandered in looking remarkably like a drowned rat, and was immediately wrapped in other people's extra layers then handed hot food and cold beer. The night was looking up!! About midnight, the rain stopped enough for the concert to start. I managed to make it through about 45 minutes before wet, cold exhaustion got the best of me and I cabbed home with Capt. Canadian.
Today was my last official class of the year. I have 3 finals to give still, but basically, it's over. I'm moving out of my apartment in two weeks, and will hit the road as soon as my bank card arrives from the States. YEAH!!!!
So that's it for now. I've got to go grade some papers and write an exam. What's new with all of you?
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
A Sucker for a Pretty Face
Ok, I admit it - I just couldn't help myself. This morning as I was walking out of class, I saw about 20 students huddled around poking at something in the flower bed. When I approached, I saw this tiny little puppy shivering from fear huddled against a rock looking more pathetic than I could stand. I shooed everyone away, took off my jacket, wrapped the poor little thing in it and took her home. I gave her a bath, and what do you know, she's GORGEOUS. See???
Just after her first bath
After she had a bath, I wrapped her in a fuzzy blanket where she promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half. Poor thing was exhausted. After a little food and water though, she perked up a little bit and has been happily exploring her new surroundings. I took her with me to get my haircut this afternoon. My hairdresser loves animals, and thought she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. She slept most of the time I was there, but when she did wake up, she hopped right off the couch and immediately peed on the floor of the salon. MORTIFIED!! Valdet just laughed, scratched her head, and mopped up. Good egg! He actually said that if I couldn't find anyone else, he would take her, as he already has 6 dogs - what's one more??
I have a vet appointment this afternoon to get her checked out, and I hope to find her a good home. If all else fails, I guess I just adopted a dog. :D As cute as she is, I'm not sure I'll be able to give her up anyway. Daddy, want a new puppy? I'll bring her to you in August.... she's a Sharr mountain dog - just beautiful!
Anyway, school is almost done (one more week!!!) and then I have to figure out what to do for the summer, especially now that I have a puppy to worry about. YIKES. This certainly changes everything... I couldn't be happier about it though.
Just after her first bath
After she had a bath, I wrapped her in a fuzzy blanket where she promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half. Poor thing was exhausted. After a little food and water though, she perked up a little bit and has been happily exploring her new surroundings. I took her with me to get my haircut this afternoon. My hairdresser loves animals, and thought she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. She slept most of the time I was there, but when she did wake up, she hopped right off the couch and immediately peed on the floor of the salon. MORTIFIED!! Valdet just laughed, scratched her head, and mopped up. Good egg! He actually said that if I couldn't find anyone else, he would take her, as he already has 6 dogs - what's one more??
I have a vet appointment this afternoon to get her checked out, and I hope to find her a good home. If all else fails, I guess I just adopted a dog. :D As cute as she is, I'm not sure I'll be able to give her up anyway. Daddy, want a new puppy? I'll bring her to you in August.... she's a Sharr mountain dog - just beautiful!
Anyway, school is almost done (one more week!!!) and then I have to figure out what to do for the summer, especially now that I have a puppy to worry about. YIKES. This certainly changes everything... I couldn't be happier about it though.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Finally!
Ok, so I finally got the pics posted from Bulgaria, Greece, Croatia AND the April Fools party. No witty commentary YET, but at least the pics are there.
I'm off to Macedonia this weekend to give a Teacher Training workshop to a bunch of in-service teachers who have more experience than I do. (YIKES!) I'm sure it will go ok, but it's still a little nerve wracking. It's on authentic materials and realia in the classroom - so basically I have to teach teachers how to use props. Maybe I should have been a drama student.
Anyway, only 4 weeks left and I'm on vacation until the middle of September. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with all of my time off, but am struggling with too many options right now. My plan is to drive to Albania, up the coast of Montenegro and Croatia (hang out on the beach for a while), hit Slovenia and come back down through Belgrade and Serbia. OR I could go to Greece and Turkey for 5 weeks. OR I could go to Romania and Bulgaria.... OR... and the list goes on. I have 5-6 weeks to play with, (anybody got any vacation time they want to blow in Eastern Europe on a little road trip??? I'd love some company. My students are freaking out that I'm going to travel alone.) Then I go home for a month - time with Mom, time with Dad and the rest of the fam, time in DC for work and then.... Hey LA kiddies - planning on coming for a week in either mid-August or first part of September. Not sure which yet, but I'm definitely coming!! Then it's back to Kosovo around September 10th. Whew. CAN'T wait!!!
I'm off to Macedonia this weekend to give a Teacher Training workshop to a bunch of in-service teachers who have more experience than I do. (YIKES!) I'm sure it will go ok, but it's still a little nerve wracking. It's on authentic materials and realia in the classroom - so basically I have to teach teachers how to use props. Maybe I should have been a drama student.
Anyway, only 4 weeks left and I'm on vacation until the middle of September. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with all of my time off, but am struggling with too many options right now. My plan is to drive to Albania, up the coast of Montenegro and Croatia (hang out on the beach for a while), hit Slovenia and come back down through Belgrade and Serbia. OR I could go to Greece and Turkey for 5 weeks. OR I could go to Romania and Bulgaria.... OR... and the list goes on. I have 5-6 weeks to play with, (anybody got any vacation time they want to blow in Eastern Europe on a little road trip??? I'd love some company. My students are freaking out that I'm going to travel alone.) Then I go home for a month - time with Mom, time with Dad and the rest of the fam, time in DC for work and then.... Hey LA kiddies - planning on coming for a week in either mid-August or first part of September. Not sure which yet, but I'm definitely coming!! Then it's back to Kosovo around September 10th. Whew. CAN'T wait!!!
Monday, May 09, 2005
Forever and a day
It seems like I haven't written in ages. I could throw all kinds of excuses at you - like I've been really busy, or that work is hell, or that I broke all my fingers - but the truth is, I've just plain been lazy about it. I have been really busy working on writing new policies for the Department of Political Science (ooh lah lah), and work is hell (mainly because it's the end of the semester and I've got a serious case of Spring Fever), but I haven't broken a single finger. Not even a paper cut. Just a bad case of the lazies - that and a serious need for vacation!!!!!
Not that the trip to Zagreb the week before last wasn't amazing, because it definitely was, but I am ready to take a break from Kosovo for a while. The Saint and I were talking the other day about how stressful it really is to live here in just the every day little things that you think you're ignoring. Like people trying to run you over on the sidewalk. Or speeding up when you're in the crosswalk. Or the constant layer of dust. Or the 85 degree days and 30 degree nights. Turn heater on or off? Electricity today? Water today? Students going to show up today? I spend half my life preparing for things that don't happen, and the other half unprepared for what does. I can't seem to win. Only four more weeks and I can go find a nice quiet beach to park my but on for a while. *Sigh*
SO I spent 3 hours today getting pictures ready to upload, since I haven't posted anything in a while. They'll all be there on Wednesday - 4 new albums. YIKES! We have an April Fools/Birthday/Going Away party, a trip to Greece, a trip to Croatia, and some other random stuff. And on that note, I'll spare you any more details because the pics will say it all. :D
Not that the trip to Zagreb the week before last wasn't amazing, because it definitely was, but I am ready to take a break from Kosovo for a while. The Saint and I were talking the other day about how stressful it really is to live here in just the every day little things that you think you're ignoring. Like people trying to run you over on the sidewalk. Or speeding up when you're in the crosswalk. Or the constant layer of dust. Or the 85 degree days and 30 degree nights. Turn heater on or off? Electricity today? Water today? Students going to show up today? I spend half my life preparing for things that don't happen, and the other half unprepared for what does. I can't seem to win. Only four more weeks and I can go find a nice quiet beach to park my but on for a while. *Sigh*
SO I spent 3 hours today getting pictures ready to upload, since I haven't posted anything in a while. They'll all be there on Wednesday - 4 new albums. YIKES! We have an April Fools/Birthday/Going Away party, a trip to Greece, a trip to Croatia, and some other random stuff. And on that note, I'll spare you any more details because the pics will say it all. :D
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Aw... you guuuuyyyyyssssss.....
Wow! You're all a bunch of saps! I am too.. here's some of the reponses I've gotten:
- The Notebook (in the boat, don'tcha know)
- Breakfast at Tiffany's (I have to admit, this one has MY vote)
- Sweet Home Alabama (amongst the lightning rods)
I totally forgot about Breakfast at Tiffany's... the rain, the taxi, Cat.... it's perfect!! *sigh*
Ok, enough sappy pappy crap for the day. I'm prepping to go on a whirlwind 4 day trip to Belgrade, Serbia and Zagreb, Croatia for the weekend. It's Orthodox Easter and Mayday so we've got a 4 day weekend. I am on my way home right now to get pictures ready to upload from my last two trips. Sorry it has taken me so long. I have been unbelievably busy (and a bit lazy too). And I promise when I get back to be more diligent in my blogging. I have been a bit lazy on that front as well. That's what I get for asking silly questions and inundating myself with work.
Last week I made the silly mistake of asking the head of the department I work for what the standards were for accepting TOEFL/IELTS (standardized English proficiency exams) for credit, and what the policy was for transferring English credits in from other departments.... MY MISTAKE. It seems there are no departmental standards or policies, and would I be so kind as to write them? Therein lies my hell at the moment. I have been researching like crazy to find out what other departments are doing, what other Universities are doing, how the TOEFL compares to the IELTS, etc. etc. etc. A couple of good things will come out of this - 1) the department will set standards and benchmarks that (hopefully) the rest of the University will follow eventually, and 2) on a more personal note... I am actually having some real impact here. Instead of just the handful of students that I have, these policies will affect every student that comes into the Political Science department from here on out. This will be my legacy at the University. It's a lot of reponsibility, and I want to do it right - setting realistic goals and structure to the program. YIKES! Wish me luck. Last year I was a student myself, and this year I'm writing departmental policies. Who'd a thunk it.
- The Notebook (in the boat, don'tcha know)
- Breakfast at Tiffany's (I have to admit, this one has MY vote)
- Sweet Home Alabama (amongst the lightning rods)
I totally forgot about Breakfast at Tiffany's... the rain, the taxi, Cat.... it's perfect!! *sigh*
Ok, enough sappy pappy crap for the day. I'm prepping to go on a whirlwind 4 day trip to Belgrade, Serbia and Zagreb, Croatia for the weekend. It's Orthodox Easter and Mayday so we've got a 4 day weekend. I am on my way home right now to get pictures ready to upload from my last two trips. Sorry it has taken me so long. I have been unbelievably busy (and a bit lazy too). And I promise when I get back to be more diligent in my blogging. I have been a bit lazy on that front as well. That's what I get for asking silly questions and inundating myself with work.
Last week I made the silly mistake of asking the head of the department I work for what the standards were for accepting TOEFL/IELTS (standardized English proficiency exams) for credit, and what the policy was for transferring English credits in from other departments.... MY MISTAKE. It seems there are no departmental standards or policies, and would I be so kind as to write them? Therein lies my hell at the moment. I have been researching like crazy to find out what other departments are doing, what other Universities are doing, how the TOEFL compares to the IELTS, etc. etc. etc. A couple of good things will come out of this - 1) the department will set standards and benchmarks that (hopefully) the rest of the University will follow eventually, and 2) on a more personal note... I am actually having some real impact here. Instead of just the handful of students that I have, these policies will affect every student that comes into the Political Science department from here on out. This will be my legacy at the University. It's a lot of reponsibility, and I want to do it right - setting realistic goals and structure to the program. YIKES! Wish me luck. Last year I was a student myself, and this year I'm writing departmental policies. Who'd a thunk it.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Rainy Daze
What is it about rain that changes people's moods so much? For me, a rainy day is a day to stay at home in your slippers and sweats, read a book, work on a project, do some filing, or better yet, crawl in bed and watch a movie. It's a day for being melancholy and introspective. One of my students today, however, had a completely different perspective on rain. He loves the rain and finds rainy days romantic. Being the cynic that I am, I responded that it's hard to be romantic with a party of one, but then I started to think about it. (about rain, not being romantic with a party of one - get your minds out of the gutter!) I started to think about the romance of rain. There is some truth to that. Some of the most romantic scenes in movies were in pouring down rain - look at the final scene of Casablanca (or was that just fog?). Anyway, i'm completely drawing a blank on romantic rainy scenes, but I'm sure there's lots. Let's take a poll.... drop a comment with your nomination for best romantic rainy scene in a film, and we'll see where we wind up. (see what happens when my creative juices stop flowing? I start begging for your input... help.)
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Addicted to old episodes of CSI
Why?? Someone help me. Flying Dutchman, take your DVD's BACK! Seriously, my friend the Flying Dutchman left KO for Liberia for 5 weeks, and willed me all the TV series he's downloaded from the internet. I have every episode of CSI (Vegas AND Miami), Alias, Law & ORder (just the 1st 3 seasons) and god knows what else.. the cd case holds 150, and it ain't empty! I have been like a bad porn addict for the past three weeks - every night, 4-5 episodes. Ok ok, not EVERY night, but enough that people are starting to wonder if I'm a hermit. FD got back yesterday, so my beast of burden is soon to leave my hands (thank GOD) or I might develop calluses on my ass.
On a completely different note, went to Greece this past weekend. T'was phenomenal (do do de doo doo - that was for you, Lopez). The weather was perfect - not too hot, not too cold about 25 degrees celcius, so someone with a calculator tell me what that means in numbers... to me it means just right for being on the beach. The water was unbelievably cold - that phrase "once you're in, you'll get used to it" did not apply. Sure, you'll get used to it, about as quickly as you get used to dying from hypothermia. Only made it in up to my knees. And my feet began to scream in protest. I toughed it out for a few minutes of frisbee tossing, but then my feet actually started to flail about uncontrollably until I agreed to get them out of the water.
Brief recap of weekend: get call from 9 of my nearest and dearest friends in Kosovo "wanna go to Greece?", next day get in car hungover from yet another going away party serving jet fuel (aka Rakia), sleep for 2 hours, wake up half-way to greece, get to greece, hotel all screwed up - manager doesn't speak english - nor does the guy he calls to translate for him - manage to get a room anyway, have mini sandwiches and fruit salad and tequila shots at bar next door (i was attempting to not drink, but the waitress ruined that), go to bed early - leaving gang at bar, go to bed with patio door open to let the waves lull me to sleep, get up and have a breakfast of fried eggs and cold cuts, play frisbee, volleyball and paddle ball and read on beach all day, play Ultimate in the afternoon - made a one handed diving flying catch to win the game that had everyone cheering and left me in complete shock because i have no idea how it happened, napped, had a big dinner leaving everyone stuffed, went to the ugliest discotech i have ever seen (no, jess not the one we went to - this one was in Katerini), made a scene dancing with The Man (6' 3 big black American/South African/Canadian/French dude) - the only one in Greece, I'm sure, and got the party started, went home at 2am, leaving a good chunk of the gang behind, woke up and crawled to a beach chair, stayed there all day, came back to Kosovo. Sigh. Perfect weekend.
I miss the beach. sigh. i'm homesick. boo.
On a completely different note, went to Greece this past weekend. T'was phenomenal (do do de doo doo - that was for you, Lopez). The weather was perfect - not too hot, not too cold about 25 degrees celcius, so someone with a calculator tell me what that means in numbers... to me it means just right for being on the beach. The water was unbelievably cold - that phrase "once you're in, you'll get used to it" did not apply. Sure, you'll get used to it, about as quickly as you get used to dying from hypothermia. Only made it in up to my knees. And my feet began to scream in protest. I toughed it out for a few minutes of frisbee tossing, but then my feet actually started to flail about uncontrollably until I agreed to get them out of the water.
Brief recap of weekend: get call from 9 of my nearest and dearest friends in Kosovo "wanna go to Greece?", next day get in car hungover from yet another going away party serving jet fuel (aka Rakia), sleep for 2 hours, wake up half-way to greece, get to greece, hotel all screwed up - manager doesn't speak english - nor does the guy he calls to translate for him - manage to get a room anyway, have mini sandwiches and fruit salad and tequila shots at bar next door (i was attempting to not drink, but the waitress ruined that), go to bed early - leaving gang at bar, go to bed with patio door open to let the waves lull me to sleep, get up and have a breakfast of fried eggs and cold cuts, play frisbee, volleyball and paddle ball and read on beach all day, play Ultimate in the afternoon - made a one handed diving flying catch to win the game that had everyone cheering and left me in complete shock because i have no idea how it happened, napped, had a big dinner leaving everyone stuffed, went to the ugliest discotech i have ever seen (no, jess not the one we went to - this one was in Katerini), made a scene dancing with The Man (6' 3 big black American/South African/Canadian/French dude) - the only one in Greece, I'm sure, and got the party started, went home at 2am, leaving a good chunk of the gang behind, woke up and crawled to a beach chair, stayed there all day, came back to Kosovo. Sigh. Perfect weekend.
I miss the beach. sigh. i'm homesick. boo.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Bad Attitude
Have you ever found yourself sounding like that professor in college that you rolled your eyes at constantly? YEAH. That's been me this week. I decided to try and quit smoking again. In the three days I actually made it (yeah, I blew it on day 4), I turned into an absolute monster. I completely lost it on one of my classes. I don't have that unreasonable of expectations - come to class, be on time and be prepared. It's what they expect of me, therefore I expect the same from them. I didn't manage to get that point across to carefully though when I basically told them they were all acting like disrespectful 5 year olds and if they couldn't handle the responsibility of being a student they could pack up their books and go home for the day. YIKES. Not the best way to handle things and I still feel guilty about it. The worst part is that the students that really needed the lecture weren't there, as usual, thus the students that do come regularly and are prepared caught the brunt of my frustrations. There will be an apolgy on Tuesday. Part of it I will blame on agitation from nicotine withdrawals, the rest I will blame on my frustration in general.
I think I may have blurred the line a little much between the "cool laid back teacher who cares" and "teacher you can take complete advantage of". It's a very fine line to walk. I am understanding, I do get it that they all have full time jobs and support their families. It's not like I haven't been there. I've had two or three jobs for as long as I can remember, and I managed to get through school ok. Yes, I skipped a few classes (ok, maybe more than a few), but I managed to get the work done still. I hear the excuses I get from my students and hear echoes of my own words from not so long ago. I now understand how lame and unoriginal it all sounded. Blah blah blah... I want to be supportive and open, but at the same time, I know the bullshit game and it doesn't fly very well when the shoe is on the other foot.
God, I never thought I'd hear myself say that. It's like waking up one morning and realizing everything your parents ever told you was right, and that you foolishly tried to prove them wrong. (Mom, Dad, I'm sorry - go ahead, give me an "I told you so.")
I think I may have blurred the line a little much between the "cool laid back teacher who cares" and "teacher you can take complete advantage of". It's a very fine line to walk. I am understanding, I do get it that they all have full time jobs and support their families. It's not like I haven't been there. I've had two or three jobs for as long as I can remember, and I managed to get through school ok. Yes, I skipped a few classes (ok, maybe more than a few), but I managed to get the work done still. I hear the excuses I get from my students and hear echoes of my own words from not so long ago. I now understand how lame and unoriginal it all sounded. Blah blah blah... I want to be supportive and open, but at the same time, I know the bullshit game and it doesn't fly very well when the shoe is on the other foot.
God, I never thought I'd hear myself say that. It's like waking up one morning and realizing everything your parents ever told you was right, and that you foolishly tried to prove them wrong. (Mom, Dad, I'm sorry - go ahead, give me an "I told you so.")
Monday, March 21, 2005
Linguistic misunderstandings
So last week I asked my students to write about cross cultural misunderstandings and embarassing situation they have found themselves in. I have a couple of those stories myself, and just so happened that I found myself in the situation the very day I made the assignment.
My electricity for my apartment works like a rechargable telephone card - you go to the electric company, pay for electricity, they give you a receipt with a code on it, you punch the code into your meter and that's how much electricity you have to use. That's all fine and good, since part of the problem with the power plants not working and the electricity going out all the time is because people don't pay their bills. This way, you have to pay before you get lights. It works. However, because my landlord usually handles this sort of thing for me, I didn't have a clue I was about to run out. And run out I did - on a Sunday morning, when it was snowing and bitterly cold. No lights, no hot water, no heat. YIKES!
I went on a desperate search to find somewhere other than the power company to purchase some electricity. A friend suggested I go to the main grocery store and I figured it was worth a shot. I asked the cashier if they sold electricity, and she looked at me as if I was nuts. So I tried another route - I asked if they sold "KEK" (stands for Kosovo Elelctric Commission). Then she nodded in understanding and told me no, but there was a store inside the mall that did. I headed off to find me some electricity and heat. When I got to the store she said to go to, I realized my mistake. The Albanian word "kek" means cake in English. She had sent me to a pastry shop. I didn't stop giggling for 20 minutes, and I had a fantastic piece of chocolate kek.
(I couldn't get any electricity until Monday, so I packed up and spent the night at a friend's. Such is life. I will keep a close eye on my meter from now on!)
On a completely different note, my Fellowship has been renewed, and I will return to Kosovo to teach for another year. I was a little shaky on this point for a week or so, as we've had a couple of bombings since the PM was indicted. The first was on a Friday night a little over a week ago. A 15 year old kid tossed two homemade handgrenades into the UN parking lot. What looked to be an isolated incident, turned out to be a diversionary tactic while 3 snipers were trying to take out the UN communications satellite. (Didn't find that part out until yesterday.) The following Monday I got the renewal notice. Tuesday morning I was awakened by another bombing, this time close enough to make my windows rattle, and promptly got me out of bed. This time the target was the President of Kosovo. A few days later a new Albanian Liberation Army (or something like that) claimed responsibility for it. Still not sure what that was all about. Anyway, everything else has been so calm and normal. People are upset, but they don't want any violence like last year. They don't see the point in it. We all kind of expected all hell to break loose sometime in the past couple of weeks for many reasons - 1, the prime minister was incredibly popular, 2, the 1 year anniversary of the riots was March 17, and 3, the weather has finally decided to warm up a bit, which means more people on the streets. Today they had peaceful protests at the University, and all things are business as usual. I'm pretty confident that things will remain calm, and if they don't.. well, then they'll pull us out of here. I really hope they don't. I want to come back and continue the things I've started this year. Plus the Trav and Phil are coming back too. That's just icing on the kek.
My electricity for my apartment works like a rechargable telephone card - you go to the electric company, pay for electricity, they give you a receipt with a code on it, you punch the code into your meter and that's how much electricity you have to use. That's all fine and good, since part of the problem with the power plants not working and the electricity going out all the time is because people don't pay their bills. This way, you have to pay before you get lights. It works. However, because my landlord usually handles this sort of thing for me, I didn't have a clue I was about to run out. And run out I did - on a Sunday morning, when it was snowing and bitterly cold. No lights, no hot water, no heat. YIKES!
I went on a desperate search to find somewhere other than the power company to purchase some electricity. A friend suggested I go to the main grocery store and I figured it was worth a shot. I asked the cashier if they sold electricity, and she looked at me as if I was nuts. So I tried another route - I asked if they sold "KEK" (stands for Kosovo Elelctric Commission). Then she nodded in understanding and told me no, but there was a store inside the mall that did. I headed off to find me some electricity and heat. When I got to the store she said to go to, I realized my mistake. The Albanian word "kek" means cake in English. She had sent me to a pastry shop. I didn't stop giggling for 20 minutes, and I had a fantastic piece of chocolate kek.
(I couldn't get any electricity until Monday, so I packed up and spent the night at a friend's. Such is life. I will keep a close eye on my meter from now on!)
On a completely different note, my Fellowship has been renewed, and I will return to Kosovo to teach for another year. I was a little shaky on this point for a week or so, as we've had a couple of bombings since the PM was indicted. The first was on a Friday night a little over a week ago. A 15 year old kid tossed two homemade handgrenades into the UN parking lot. What looked to be an isolated incident, turned out to be a diversionary tactic while 3 snipers were trying to take out the UN communications satellite. (Didn't find that part out until yesterday.) The following Monday I got the renewal notice. Tuesday morning I was awakened by another bombing, this time close enough to make my windows rattle, and promptly got me out of bed. This time the target was the President of Kosovo. A few days later a new Albanian Liberation Army (or something like that) claimed responsibility for it. Still not sure what that was all about. Anyway, everything else has been so calm and normal. People are upset, but they don't want any violence like last year. They don't see the point in it. We all kind of expected all hell to break loose sometime in the past couple of weeks for many reasons - 1, the prime minister was incredibly popular, 2, the 1 year anniversary of the riots was March 17, and 3, the weather has finally decided to warm up a bit, which means more people on the streets. Today they had peaceful protests at the University, and all things are business as usual. I'm pretty confident that things will remain calm, and if they don't.. well, then they'll pull us out of here. I really hope they don't. I want to come back and continue the things I've started this year. Plus the Trav and Phil are coming back too. That's just icing on the kek.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Adventures in a Spanish Library
This may seem completely irrelevant, considering all else that's going on in my world right now, but I woke up in the middle of the night the other night, and this is what came pouring out. Just thought I'd share...
I miss libraries. Really big University libraries in particular. This may seem like an odd thing to miss, but there is definitely something to be said about being able to wander among thousands and thousands of books, touching the spines, pulling something that catches your eye off the shelf, sitting down between the stacks and taking a peek to see if it’s something you really want.
There’s a peculiar smell about libraries – a little musty, dusty, forgotten and old. But it never ceases to make me feel like I’ve found some secret treasure – a little giddy just to be there. I can spend hours and hours and hours in big libraries. There’s so much to look at – a never ending supply of things to open your eyes and your mind. And it’s all free and accessible to anyone who wants to spend the time looking.
Finding a book is relatively easy in the States. You have computers with special programs to find a book by title, author, subject, keyword, publisher, you name it, you can search for it. And not only will it tell you where in the library to go find it, but if it’s been checked out, when it is due to be back in, and how many copies they have. It’s brilliant really. Which brings me to the point of all of this – the library experience at a European University.
Granted, my only experience with the European University library system was in Spain at a University that shall remain nameless. However, it was so horrible, that I have sworn off them since. Here in Kosovo, I'm just plain too chicken. They are still on a paper card catalog system - the shock and horror to discover that, PLUS, it's all in Albanian, which I don't speak at all, even after 6 months of living here. I can order coffee, but ordering a book is beyond my grasp of the tongue.
So back to Spain - When I first walked in I waited for that library smell to hit me – years of books that had gone undiscovered, just waiting for my wandering hands to draw a finger across their spines and ease them from the shelf. Instead, it smelled of antiseptic floor cleaner and furniture polish. I looked around me, but all I saw were rows and rows of study cubicles full of students diligently pouring over stacks of papers, and the occasional book. Where were the book stacks? Where were the volumes and volumes in great rows that needed step-ladders to get to the higher shelves? Dismayed, I walked to the information desk and in my broken Spanish asked innocently “Where are all the books?” The librarian looked at me as if I had three heads, and said “In the reserves of course. What book are you looking for?”
Now if that isn’t the greatest question of all time. Therein lies the problem with the European system. If I knew what I was looking for, I wouldn’t be doing research in the first place. I wanted to browse, see if anything caught my interest, find something new to pour over for the next week. Uh-uh. Not there.You had to have already done extensive research to find a title you were interested in, a specific journal, with article name, author and date of publication before you ever even considered speaking with a librarian.
Now, at this University, they did have sort of a catalog system, but the depth of the information was elementary. Say for example I was looking for a comparative grammar of English and Spanish – keywords English and Spanish grammar. Unless the book or article had those specific words in the TITLE, you would come up with a blank page asking you to broaden your search and try again. Poop. How does anyone do research like this??? If you got lucky and you actually came across something that may have a glimmer of something you’re interested in in it, you then had to fill out a tiny slip of paper with every ounce of personal information you have – birth date, professor, name of course the books are for, your bank account number and your mother’s mother’s maiden name. You then took this little slip of highly confidential information to the retrieval desk, where some 18-year-old smirky student studied it very carefully and finally granted you persmission to see the book. If you had expected to get this book anytime in the near future, you would have been sorely disappointed. She would then tell you (seriously smirking, of course) to come back in 20 minutes to 2 hours. Where was this book? Siberia?
Mind you, this is the procedure if you were even in the right library. You see, there wasn’t just one library, there were at least 10 – one for each faculty, and little to no crossover between the content of each. Many times I took my little slip of paper to the desk only to find out that the book actually was in the branch of the library in Siberia and that’s where I would have to go to request it. Then I could sit there and wait 20 minutes to 2 hours while they retrieved the book from South America. This is really fun, isn’t it?
So you wait and wait and wait. When the book finally arrives, you check the index quickly to see if your needed topic is covered, scan a few pages, decide it’s completely irrelevant and start the whole miserable process over again. You are also limited to viewing three books at a time. So if you do actually find something relevant, you have to give it back to look at more useless materials.
It gets better. The really fun part is requesting something that’s in a special collection. When Smirky Smirkerton takes your slip of paper, she will then cautiously peer at you over the top of her glasses with one eyebrow raised, and quietly whisper, “follow me”. She will then escort you through a maze of hallways and corridors to a room with shelves of books (yes, real books!) in locked glass cases (rats, you still can’t smell them). She will then whisper quietly to the attendant there who will again look you up and down, and when she has apparently deemed you worthy, puts on a pair of white cotton gloves, unlocks a case, and removes the book in question. She then will proceed to open the book and hold it out in front of you and ask you what you would like to see. Once, I made the sorry mistake of reaching out to flip through the index. The book was quickly yanked from my reach, and if she had been quicker, I’m sure she would have slapped my hand. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with all this. Let me get this right - so I could look at the book, but I couldn’t touch it? That was correct. I couldn’t even turn the page, she had to do it for me. For all of this precaution, you would think that I was looking at an original manuscript of the Bible. But honestly, it was just a book on linguistic theory. Who could possibly want to be so protective of linguistic theory?? I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I was sure that I wouldn’t find it with someone else holding the book. This system was obviously just not going to work with me. In utter exasperation I left the library and went home and read some trash novel in two hours instead. It was a book I could touch, dog-ear the pages, spill salsa on, and not get arrested for it. I sniffed at it just for fun, smelled like book. Good.
I miss libraries. Really big University libraries in particular. This may seem like an odd thing to miss, but there is definitely something to be said about being able to wander among thousands and thousands of books, touching the spines, pulling something that catches your eye off the shelf, sitting down between the stacks and taking a peek to see if it’s something you really want.
There’s a peculiar smell about libraries – a little musty, dusty, forgotten and old. But it never ceases to make me feel like I’ve found some secret treasure – a little giddy just to be there. I can spend hours and hours and hours in big libraries. There’s so much to look at – a never ending supply of things to open your eyes and your mind. And it’s all free and accessible to anyone who wants to spend the time looking.
Finding a book is relatively easy in the States. You have computers with special programs to find a book by title, author, subject, keyword, publisher, you name it, you can search for it. And not only will it tell you where in the library to go find it, but if it’s been checked out, when it is due to be back in, and how many copies they have. It’s brilliant really. Which brings me to the point of all of this – the library experience at a European University.
Granted, my only experience with the European University library system was in Spain at a University that shall remain nameless. However, it was so horrible, that I have sworn off them since. Here in Kosovo, I'm just plain too chicken. They are still on a paper card catalog system - the shock and horror to discover that, PLUS, it's all in Albanian, which I don't speak at all, even after 6 months of living here. I can order coffee, but ordering a book is beyond my grasp of the tongue.
So back to Spain - When I first walked in I waited for that library smell to hit me – years of books that had gone undiscovered, just waiting for my wandering hands to draw a finger across their spines and ease them from the shelf. Instead, it smelled of antiseptic floor cleaner and furniture polish. I looked around me, but all I saw were rows and rows of study cubicles full of students diligently pouring over stacks of papers, and the occasional book. Where were the book stacks? Where were the volumes and volumes in great rows that needed step-ladders to get to the higher shelves? Dismayed, I walked to the information desk and in my broken Spanish asked innocently “Where are all the books?” The librarian looked at me as if I had three heads, and said “In the reserves of course. What book are you looking for?”
Now if that isn’t the greatest question of all time. Therein lies the problem with the European system. If I knew what I was looking for, I wouldn’t be doing research in the first place. I wanted to browse, see if anything caught my interest, find something new to pour over for the next week. Uh-uh. Not there.You had to have already done extensive research to find a title you were interested in, a specific journal, with article name, author and date of publication before you ever even considered speaking with a librarian.
Now, at this University, they did have sort of a catalog system, but the depth of the information was elementary. Say for example I was looking for a comparative grammar of English and Spanish – keywords English and Spanish grammar. Unless the book or article had those specific words in the TITLE, you would come up with a blank page asking you to broaden your search and try again. Poop. How does anyone do research like this??? If you got lucky and you actually came across something that may have a glimmer of something you’re interested in in it, you then had to fill out a tiny slip of paper with every ounce of personal information you have – birth date, professor, name of course the books are for, your bank account number and your mother’s mother’s maiden name. You then took this little slip of highly confidential information to the retrieval desk, where some 18-year-old smirky student studied it very carefully and finally granted you persmission to see the book. If you had expected to get this book anytime in the near future, you would have been sorely disappointed. She would then tell you (seriously smirking, of course) to come back in 20 minutes to 2 hours. Where was this book? Siberia?
Mind you, this is the procedure if you were even in the right library. You see, there wasn’t just one library, there were at least 10 – one for each faculty, and little to no crossover between the content of each. Many times I took my little slip of paper to the desk only to find out that the book actually was in the branch of the library in Siberia and that’s where I would have to go to request it. Then I could sit there and wait 20 minutes to 2 hours while they retrieved the book from South America. This is really fun, isn’t it?
So you wait and wait and wait. When the book finally arrives, you check the index quickly to see if your needed topic is covered, scan a few pages, decide it’s completely irrelevant and start the whole miserable process over again. You are also limited to viewing three books at a time. So if you do actually find something relevant, you have to give it back to look at more useless materials.
It gets better. The really fun part is requesting something that’s in a special collection. When Smirky Smirkerton takes your slip of paper, she will then cautiously peer at you over the top of her glasses with one eyebrow raised, and quietly whisper, “follow me”. She will then escort you through a maze of hallways and corridors to a room with shelves of books (yes, real books!) in locked glass cases (rats, you still can’t smell them). She will then whisper quietly to the attendant there who will again look you up and down, and when she has apparently deemed you worthy, puts on a pair of white cotton gloves, unlocks a case, and removes the book in question. She then will proceed to open the book and hold it out in front of you and ask you what you would like to see. Once, I made the sorry mistake of reaching out to flip through the index. The book was quickly yanked from my reach, and if she had been quicker, I’m sure she would have slapped my hand. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with all this. Let me get this right - so I could look at the book, but I couldn’t touch it? That was correct. I couldn’t even turn the page, she had to do it for me. For all of this precaution, you would think that I was looking at an original manuscript of the Bible. But honestly, it was just a book on linguistic theory. Who could possibly want to be so protective of linguistic theory?? I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I was sure that I wouldn’t find it with someone else holding the book. This system was obviously just not going to work with me. In utter exasperation I left the library and went home and read some trash novel in two hours instead. It was a book I could touch, dog-ear the pages, spill salsa on, and not get arrested for it. I sniffed at it just for fun, smelled like book. Good.
Peace and quiet
Well, we made it through the night... no protests, no violence, not a peep. Some are saying it's the calm before the storm. Personally, I think they're overreacting because of what happened last year. That's not saying that I won't be taking extra cautions today, you never know when a demonstration is going to pop up around here, but the level of anxiety that was present last night when I went to bed has dissapated. Besides, no panicked phone calls in the middle of the night, so all must be ok.
The Wicked Brit and I were talking last night about how sick it is that some people are going to be a little sad that there hasn't been any violence, for the sole reason that they want their little "story" to tell. I've heard people's stories from last year, and I can guarantee that's the last story I want in my repertoire.
And so it stands... peace, quiet and calm. It is only 8:00 am, so let's hope it stays that way.
The Wicked Brit and I were talking last night about how sick it is that some people are going to be a little sad that there hasn't been any violence, for the sole reason that they want their little "story" to tell. I've heard people's stories from last year, and I can guarantee that's the last story I want in my repertoire.
And so it stands... peace, quiet and calm. It is only 8:00 am, so let's hope it stays that way.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Waiting for all hell to break loose
And so it has happened. The Prime Minister of Kosovo has officially been indicted by the Hague for war crimes and has resigned so that he can turn himself over to authorities tomorrow (click on the title of this entry if you want to read the CNN article about it). The consular office has issued a warning to Americans to be well aware of the situation and the possiblility of impending violence. As a result and on an unofficial recommendatoin, I have cancelled my classes for the rest of the day. There's an eerie sense of calm over the city right now. Sunny skies and freezing cold temperatures add to the surrealness of it all. If predictions are right, there could be serious riots, reminiscent of those in March of last year. My few Albanian friends are nervous - they don't want to see a repeat of last years insanity, others are angry. For the next few hours, I will keep a close eye on the climate (not just the weather), pack an emergency bag, and will probably go stay with a friend tonight, just to make sure I'm not somewhere by myself if the shit hits the fan. I don't want to freak anyone out (especially my parents), but this is a reality of living here. Although tensions don't surface as much as they once did, a significant event like this could trigger anger that has been bubbling just under the surface. I truly hope that people will remember that the events of last March undid about 4 years of work in two days, will remember the destruction and aftermath, and will avoid anything similar, but you never know. So if anything exciting happens, I'll let you know. Hopefully I just stocked up on Spaghetti-O's and ramen noodles for no reason, but better to be prepared.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Homework
This week's blog assignment for my advanced class was to write about writing - how they felt aobut it, what they liked, disliked, why it was important (or unimportant) to them. I figured the least I could do was attempt to write something like that myself.
So why is writing important? Aside form the obvious communication gap with the outside world that develops if you can't express yourself on paper, there are a number of things that make writing important, at least to me. First, writing well gives you a new way of expressing yourself and talking about the world around you. When you are chatting about something with friends, you don't have to be terribly precise in your descriptions, for most of them are familiar with the place or the topic of discussion. When you write, every word carries with it a specific feeling or emotion, a color or smell, a sensation or realization, a sense of purpose. You choose carefully what you say so that it conveys exactly the right meaning, and invokes a carefully constructed mental image. Secondly, writing holds a sense of honesty and truth that isn't always present in speaking. People are naturally pleasers. They like to be liked and for this reason, tend to say things that people like to hear. When you write, there is a level of detachment, a buffer layer, between you and your audience. There's no need to fear immediate rebuttal or argument. You don't have to please anyone else with your thoughts. You can express yourself clearly and consicely, and explain thoroughly your point of view without some idiot interrupting you or some close-minded freak telling you your ideas are evil and you must be destroyed. Lastly, the written word has a lasting effect on people. When you speak, the moment is fleeting and the person you are talking to could easily forget what you started a sentence with by the time you finish it. When you write, the words linger. They are recorded for posterity to do with what they please. Review it, revise it, take it to heart, spit on it... whatever, it's still there. It hasn't disappeared in a breath or with a fickle mind that changes topics the minute something else catches it's attention. (oooh... look at the bees)
For all the reasons I think writing is important, they are also the reasons that I love writing. I write a lot. But I haven't always. I wrote a play in 5th grade that was performed in front of the whole school. I wrote a teen-romance novel that circulated chapter by chapter throughout the entire female population of the 7th grade (which I still have in a box in my father's attic - it's always good for a giggle when I go home). In high school I won a scholarship off a short story contest. I really wanted to be a writer. Then for many years, I wrote nothing. Not a word that wasn't assigned by a professor. I was forced into it, and it made me hate it (temporarily). It wasn't until I started travelling a lot, and living overseas that I reconnected with writing. I keep this blog, which is open to who ever chooses to read it. I keep a private journal for things I don't really want to ponder out in the open. (Usually things that are too stupid to talk about with anyone else, but it helps me work through them.) I love to write about people and things I care about and things that strike me as odd. I don't write poetry, I don't write short stories, at least I haven't in a very long time, and I don't write novels (even though some of these blog entries may qualify as novellas). I do like to reflect on my world, and tell silly stories about my friends, and record things that have happened to me, so that 10 years from now I can look back and get a good laugh at myself. Writing has given me a way to connect to my surroundings that nothing else could have. Trying to explain to someone on the other side of the world what an accumulator is, or an inverter, or how little lack of electricity really affects your life here gives me the opportunity to really think about things in a way that I wouldn't if I was just letting life happen to me.
Research papers and the like, I find difficult. It's not actually the writing I find difficult, but starting to write. It's the whole gathering information phase and narrowing the focus that drives me crazy. However, once I am engaged, have all my research done, and get moving, it comes easily. Once I am organized, and have my thoughts together, it's like I've already written this thing in my head and all I have to do is get it out! But putting that first sentence down - getting the thesis statement exactly right, writing the introduction... horror for me. I generally begin with freewriting and then edit like crazy. (This is why all of these exercises on narrowing and focusing your topics are important exercises, my dears! I could learn from them myself.)
Editing used to be something I hated to do. Who wants to admit they're not perfect the first time out of the gate? Not me! Certainly not me. Proofreading was a crime, rearranging ideas a sin, and surely I would never remove an idea from a paper because all of my ideas were brilliant!! I eventually got over myself, and now value editing more than any other step in the writing process. Something can always be better, more clear, funnier or supported more strongly. Granted, I don't always edit these blog entries so on occassion you are privvy to my off-the-top-of-my-head brilliance. But the beauty of word processing and computers is that you can edit as you go. Cutting and pasting, deleting entire paragraphs with the touch of a button... i love it! Some people can't write on a computer. For me, I can't write without one anymore. I love the instantaneousness of it all. Watching the words appear on screen almost as fast as I can think them (ok, I'm really not that good of a typist, but I'm pretty fast), rearranging them, rethinking them, all of it is terribly exciting to me. Yes, I'm a geek - I know.
So in conclusion, what I hope for my students, is that they find some connection between the written word and themselves. It isn't for everyone, and I don't expect everyone to fall in love with it. I do hope that they understand it, know how to do it, and can eke out a paper in whatever language necessary that is coherent and well-thought out. That's it. If somewhere along the line someone does fall in love with writing, well then that would be something special indeed.
So why is writing important? Aside form the obvious communication gap with the outside world that develops if you can't express yourself on paper, there are a number of things that make writing important, at least to me. First, writing well gives you a new way of expressing yourself and talking about the world around you. When you are chatting about something with friends, you don't have to be terribly precise in your descriptions, for most of them are familiar with the place or the topic of discussion. When you write, every word carries with it a specific feeling or emotion, a color or smell, a sensation or realization, a sense of purpose. You choose carefully what you say so that it conveys exactly the right meaning, and invokes a carefully constructed mental image. Secondly, writing holds a sense of honesty and truth that isn't always present in speaking. People are naturally pleasers. They like to be liked and for this reason, tend to say things that people like to hear. When you write, there is a level of detachment, a buffer layer, between you and your audience. There's no need to fear immediate rebuttal or argument. You don't have to please anyone else with your thoughts. You can express yourself clearly and consicely, and explain thoroughly your point of view without some idiot interrupting you or some close-minded freak telling you your ideas are evil and you must be destroyed. Lastly, the written word has a lasting effect on people. When you speak, the moment is fleeting and the person you are talking to could easily forget what you started a sentence with by the time you finish it. When you write, the words linger. They are recorded for posterity to do with what they please. Review it, revise it, take it to heart, spit on it... whatever, it's still there. It hasn't disappeared in a breath or with a fickle mind that changes topics the minute something else catches it's attention. (oooh... look at the bees)
For all the reasons I think writing is important, they are also the reasons that I love writing. I write a lot. But I haven't always. I wrote a play in 5th grade that was performed in front of the whole school. I wrote a teen-romance novel that circulated chapter by chapter throughout the entire female population of the 7th grade (which I still have in a box in my father's attic - it's always good for a giggle when I go home). In high school I won a scholarship off a short story contest. I really wanted to be a writer. Then for many years, I wrote nothing. Not a word that wasn't assigned by a professor. I was forced into it, and it made me hate it (temporarily). It wasn't until I started travelling a lot, and living overseas that I reconnected with writing. I keep this blog, which is open to who ever chooses to read it. I keep a private journal for things I don't really want to ponder out in the open. (Usually things that are too stupid to talk about with anyone else, but it helps me work through them.) I love to write about people and things I care about and things that strike me as odd. I don't write poetry, I don't write short stories, at least I haven't in a very long time, and I don't write novels (even though some of these blog entries may qualify as novellas). I do like to reflect on my world, and tell silly stories about my friends, and record things that have happened to me, so that 10 years from now I can look back and get a good laugh at myself. Writing has given me a way to connect to my surroundings that nothing else could have. Trying to explain to someone on the other side of the world what an accumulator is, or an inverter, or how little lack of electricity really affects your life here gives me the opportunity to really think about things in a way that I wouldn't if I was just letting life happen to me.
Research papers and the like, I find difficult. It's not actually the writing I find difficult, but starting to write. It's the whole gathering information phase and narrowing the focus that drives me crazy. However, once I am engaged, have all my research done, and get moving, it comes easily. Once I am organized, and have my thoughts together, it's like I've already written this thing in my head and all I have to do is get it out! But putting that first sentence down - getting the thesis statement exactly right, writing the introduction... horror for me. I generally begin with freewriting and then edit like crazy. (This is why all of these exercises on narrowing and focusing your topics are important exercises, my dears! I could learn from them myself.)
Editing used to be something I hated to do. Who wants to admit they're not perfect the first time out of the gate? Not me! Certainly not me. Proofreading was a crime, rearranging ideas a sin, and surely I would never remove an idea from a paper because all of my ideas were brilliant!! I eventually got over myself, and now value editing more than any other step in the writing process. Something can always be better, more clear, funnier or supported more strongly. Granted, I don't always edit these blog entries so on occassion you are privvy to my off-the-top-of-my-head brilliance. But the beauty of word processing and computers is that you can edit as you go. Cutting and pasting, deleting entire paragraphs with the touch of a button... i love it! Some people can't write on a computer. For me, I can't write without one anymore. I love the instantaneousness of it all. Watching the words appear on screen almost as fast as I can think them (ok, I'm really not that good of a typist, but I'm pretty fast), rearranging them, rethinking them, all of it is terribly exciting to me. Yes, I'm a geek - I know.
So in conclusion, what I hope for my students, is that they find some connection between the written word and themselves. It isn't for everyone, and I don't expect everyone to fall in love with it. I do hope that they understand it, know how to do it, and can eke out a paper in whatever language necessary that is coherent and well-thought out. That's it. If somewhere along the line someone does fall in love with writing, well then that would be something special indeed.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Bliss!!
Today I went grocery shopping. Today I found cheddar cheese. Today I am happy. It is the little things. :D
The virtues (and pitfalls) of sharing your Twinkies
I had Twinkies for breakfast the other day. Or more realistically, I had 1/4 of a Twinkie for breakfast the other day. I really wanted to just shove both of them in my mouth at the same time and revel in the utter chemical sweetness of it all, but I felt guilty. So I shared them with my class to give everyone a taste of some classic American junk food. They fell in love! I am now on a mission to get a case of Twinkies for the kiddies.
More and more I'm finding it's not just my Twinkies I'm sharing. It's my life. Every aspect, every angle, every minute is an open book to my students. They have my phone number, my chat, my blog address - everything. My goal right now is to convince the reluctant ones that I really do have an open door policy - they can call me any time day or night for any reason. Those that I had last semester know this already, and have used it when necessary, but have never abused the access. Mostly it has just kept an open line of communication, and has built a level of mutual respect and trust. At least I think it has. It truly saddens me to hear stories of professors whose goal seems to be keeping students in their "place". Forgive me for being the idealistic one here, but aren't your teachers supposed to help you find the way to success? Aren't we supposed to be guiding these young people to their talents and finding the areas in which they excel, not trying to prove that they're failures or that they've still got a lot to learn? Someone actually said that to me, "I just want to show them that they don't know everything." EVERYone still has a lot to learn, and 99% of the population is well aware of that. You don't have to prove it to them. For all the faults in the system, these students still manage to get an education, more on their own perseverance than on the effectiveness of teaching practices. It's a world reluctant to try new things - things have been the same for so long, and trying to convince someone there's a better way is challenging, to say the least. I won't change the world while I'm here, but I hope that maybe, just maybe, I can change one or two people's minds about educators and education.
Ok, it's way too early in the morning to be waxing philosophical on the merits of education. I'll leave you all now to have your coffee, and I'll go have mine. Toodles.
More and more I'm finding it's not just my Twinkies I'm sharing. It's my life. Every aspect, every angle, every minute is an open book to my students. They have my phone number, my chat, my blog address - everything. My goal right now is to convince the reluctant ones that I really do have an open door policy - they can call me any time day or night for any reason. Those that I had last semester know this already, and have used it when necessary, but have never abused the access. Mostly it has just kept an open line of communication, and has built a level of mutual respect and trust. At least I think it has. It truly saddens me to hear stories of professors whose goal seems to be keeping students in their "place". Forgive me for being the idealistic one here, but aren't your teachers supposed to help you find the way to success? Aren't we supposed to be guiding these young people to their talents and finding the areas in which they excel, not trying to prove that they're failures or that they've still got a lot to learn? Someone actually said that to me, "I just want to show them that they don't know everything." EVERYone still has a lot to learn, and 99% of the population is well aware of that. You don't have to prove it to them. For all the faults in the system, these students still manage to get an education, more on their own perseverance than on the effectiveness of teaching practices. It's a world reluctant to try new things - things have been the same for so long, and trying to convince someone there's a better way is challenging, to say the least. I won't change the world while I'm here, but I hope that maybe, just maybe, I can change one or two people's minds about educators and education.
Ok, it's way too early in the morning to be waxing philosophical on the merits of education. I'll leave you all now to have your coffee, and I'll go have mine. Toodles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)