Common

Common in Izmir:

• Huge slabs of raw meat sitting on tables outside of restaurants.
• A deep fear of drafts. Because they will make you sick. Unlike the raw meat on the counters outside of restaurants.
• Midnight strolls around town. With your baby.
• Staring. I've started to pick up this habit in earnest. I like that it is socially acceptable here.
• Getting yelled at by waiters for ordering coffee before the meal begins. Apparently I shouldn't want coffee at that time. 
• Deep, deep holes in the streets.
• People using blowtorches on the sidewalks without any safety gear for themselves or caution tape to warn others.
• Taxi drivers sleeping in the back of their cabs.
• Small cakes and ice cream served for free on buses.
• Refrigerated red wine. Everywhere.
• Old ladies who beat cars with their canes.
• Black Lung due to the high concentration of coal dust in the air during the winter months.
• Sitting/standing really close to strangers for no apparent reason.
• Walking into people (like,  full body-checks) and continuing to stroll on past as if no contact were made. My favorite was when an old woman took it to the next level with my friend Lisa -- she didn't just "bump past" her -- she did a double handed push to Lisa's stomach, perhaps to suggest that Lisa should move.
• Every man owns and wears at LEAST one cardigan sweater with caribou on it. Everyday.
• Pants made of sweater. (I have a pair)
• Single serving hand wipes.

be careful?

ps: I love Turkey

it would be better if I were asleep

Sometimes I get really tired. Like, ragefully tired. Maybe you can relate. It's not always realistic to think that you can just go home when you need a nap. I've fallen asleep in many places. Perhaps you have too.

I have friends that give me a hard time about falling asleep while in social situations. But sleeping is natural and I feel that public outreach about this particular topic is a must. I'm not narcoleptic, I'm just tired. All I'm asking for is a little understanding and compassion. A friend told me recently that her doctor said it was important to take a lot of naps. So what if she's depressed and it was her psychotherapist who was speaking to her. The point is that a lot of napping is healthful.

There are so many people out there who are worse than I am about public snoozing. I tend to fall asleep on couches at parties or during movie nights. Check out these dummies:

I'm judging her not only because of the obvious but also because of the fact that she is wearing house shoes at the office. Wtf.

Get it together.

The sleeping guy needs a shirt that is one size larger and he is about to get his ass kicked. 

Whore.

Maybe someone slipped them some sudafed on purpose. My sister did that to me once. She shoved it in a twinkie but I noticed that the white frosting had turned blue so I put two and two together and guessed that someone was trying to poison me. I was right! High five.

I'm not trying to be snotty about the fact that I'm better at falling asleep in public than these fools. But I win.

about kids

Sometimes kids do things correctly. But a lot of the time kids do things really halfassedly.
The other day at work (I'm a teacher) the kids were supposed to decorate the building for the upcoming holiday.

Check out their work. It's the worst.

It's not their fault. It is the way of a child to not try. Unless they are threatened by a scary adult. I try really hard to find a balance between being a terrifying adult and an upstanding, fairy godmother-like role model.

The nice thing about children is that they are really good for the self-esteem. Number one, my students always tell me that I'm pretty. At least the ones who know how to work the system. They are smart in that way -- I always think of them as a little more angelic when they compliment me on a new pair of boots or when they notice that I've done something different with my hair. I also enjoy it when they tell me that I resemble notoriously beautiful people in Hollywood. (Listen, I take my compliments where I can get them.) In turn they reap the benefits of a happy teacher who gives extra points and candy to all. I completely understand that I'm getting played but I still feel that winning is going on EVERYWHERE.

Number two, they believe everything that I say which makes me feel both powerful and wise. The only problem is that mostly, the only pieces of information that they actually retain are the lies that I tell them about my personal life. For example, I had one school year where I saw about seven awesome Monster Trucks around town within the course of a week. Naturally I took photos of the said Monster Trucks on my cell phone and then showed them to my favorite kids at school, acting as if I owned them all. (I felt as if God was asking me to do this: Why else would He place all of these majestically large vehicles in my path so suddenly?)

Fast forward six months and I found Pedro awkwardly approaching at lunch one day. "Miss C," he said to me, with a questioning tone in his voice as I silently bit into my sandwich, "I'm not sure that it's true that you drive a Monster Truck." And as my colleagues all glanced up curiously at me from across the table I solidly looked him in the eye and said, "We can discuss this later."

My students here in Turkey honestly believe that this is a previous class that I had in the states:

I wanted some street cred. This particular group of Turkish students was being excessively loud so I thought, "Hey, it's clear that they don't respect me. Maybe if I lie to them they will think that I'm cooler than I actually am and then do what I tell them to do." It worked like a charm. I even went so far as to point out the children in the video who received the highest marks in my math class. To make it seem more realistic.

Here's what Michael thinks about some stuff.

I'm not going to lie. I think about this interview all the time. I have been thinking about it for years. Every single time I say "it was ok" in response to something, it is always in a small Michael Jackson voice. At least it is in my mind.

Is that weird?

I just said to someone out loud, "I think about Michael Jackson all the time."

They didn't respond. Yet. Let them think about that statement for awhile.

I'm at work and people sometimes ignore me here, especially when I indulge in some seemingly irrelevant commentary on life. 

I'll say it again in a few minutes.

ttfn

dear diary

Last night as I was going to bed I realized that I hadn't written in my diary for over a month. I have been too manically happy lately to write/reflect. But now that that's over, it's back to business as usual. Here are a few of my most recent updates:

1) The guy that I was dating ended things with me over a Facebook Chat. A new all time low in terms of venue. He used the phrase, "It's not you, it's me." Well, thank God he said that, otherwise I may have had low self esteem about it.

As I relayed the five dollar version of this story to a colleague/friend, she supported me with the requisite sad face and then proceeded to reassure me that this kind of thing was normal. She said, "Before I moved to Turkey I was never rejected. But now I'm rejected all the time. It's OK, you'll get used to it. Turkish men are incomprehensible." I love her.

2) As a result of this relationship fail, I made a massive amount of holiday food in my apartment, by myself, which influenced me to hate Glee. "The previous sentence makes no sense," you may be saying to yourself. But it actually does make sense.

Check this out: I was trying to create an atmosphere of holiday cheer in my apartment to soothe my blackened mood. So while cooking I opted to listen to the Glee versions of my Christmas Classic Faves (aka CCFs). "What a fun alternative to the regular standards," I said to myself out loud in a spooky voice. But after awhile the irrationally chipper voices of the Glee cast angered me inside, driving me to eat excessive portion sizes of stuffing, etc. The final outcome of this was me drowning in a combination of self loathing and real or imagined love-handle growth.

3) Then I Skyped with my parents. Everything was going fine until it wasn't anymore. Typical. Somehow our conversation moved from discussing Christmas presents to me accusing them of not remembering anything about my childhood. Then I laughed in an unprompted, hysterical way, which was inappropriate. But I suppose the fact that they do not remember my childhood is also not OK. The conversation ended with us all admitting our shortcomings and the promise to chat again soon.

4) To throw a positive spin on the Thanksgiving holiday update, I had a really nice staff dinner! Many friends were there and the food tasted like America. After the meal, I decided to let go of all inhibitions and eat directly out of the community bowl of mashed potatoes with an over-sized wooden spoon from the buffet table. Because fuck it. And also, because liquor drinks. Then, with the permission of nobody, I climbed up on the apartment lobby couch, barefoot, falling down twice, to attach my Jesus Gumbi doll to the top of the communal Christmas tree.

reason for the season.

Just stop it

Has anyone else noticed that couples have started matching again?

I mean, I remember the 80's. Having your sig fig wear the same androgynous clothing was "a thing" back then. But the thing is, stop it.

What about when the dude looks more fem in the outfit then the chick does? 

I was at the mall last weekend and saw three matching couples -- same shirt, same pants, same shoes. Stop it.

Additionally, most of you know that I am scared of Octopuses. However, I am also scared of teeth and nails. 

I am scared of teeth and nails because I think they are gross. Teeth more so than nails, but some people ruin nails for everyone. Recently I saw this.

I've met this guy. He is real and is in relation to my social circle. And I had no idea that these atrocities lay right below the surface of his shoes. I ask you to ponder this: What else are people hiding? 

Check these guys out.

Fuck. What happened to them during their childhoods? That shit is for real. They are all, "I'm going to be Halloween. EVERY DAMN DAY."

AND

Once upon a time, my sister mailed me her tooth. Like, through the US postal system. About a year ago, her tooth rotted and fell out while I was talking to her on the phone. I was horrified that something like this could even happen to someone who wasn't illegally making moonshine in deep Appalachia, but there it was: my own sister having a redneck tooth calamity.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: ...yeah, I made a really great dinner last night. Some folks came over and it was --

Sis: Shit!!

Me: What?! What just happened?

Sis: Uhh, I was eating an apple and all of a sudden I bit down on something hard. It's my tooth.

Me: Shut the fuck up. Your tooth just came out?

Sis: It has been hurting lately,  I'm not surprised.

Me: You're not surprised? You are a grown ass adult. It is completely unacceptable for you to be losing teeth. 

Sis: Oh my god, it smells so bad. Definitely rotten.

Me: What is wrong with you? Why are your teeth so terrible?

Sis: Genetics.

Me: We have the same genetics. My teeth are fine.

Sis: Just wait.

Me: Wait for what? I'm 30 years old and I've never even had a cavity.

Sis: I don't know what to say to you. My children are screaming. I have to go.

Me: Fine.

Sis: Fine.

A week later I got a package of tooth in the mail. Absolutely unacceptable.

Thanks a lot Josh

I hate this song. It's called "If I could have a beer with Jesus." What a dumb name.





It's like, Jesus didn't drink beer. If he drank anything, it would have been wine. Obvi.

Also, does this guy have a black eye under his baseball hat??!!! I think so. Bar fight, I guarantee it. Standard redneck behavior.

I mean seriously, this is the kind of song that gives country music a bad rep. I actually kind of like country music (a guilty-ish pleasure) - I even went to the country music hall of fame. It was okay. I found out some things about pop country culture whilst in Nashville. Did you know that country music fans think it's awesome to wear fishhooks in the bills of their baseball caps? I noticed it ever'where.

like this.

Also, they get fight-y drunk when they drink whiskey (the rednecks). It scares me. Too many country fanatics in one place is fairly terrifying. They are unpredictable. You never know who they might punch in the face next. Point in case: the terrible video I posted above. That guy is borderline famous and even he got hit.

Additional  groupings that make me uncomfortable due to their unpredictable nature: birds up close, people on hallucinogenics, the elderly.

On a not completely unrelated note, one time in 2008 I legit tried to be this for Halloween:

I'm ashamed to say that the Duck Dynasty crew followed through better than my crew did with this concept. We only had three people in our flag and the guy in the middle didn't show up. So me and the other end of the flag had to stuff old rags into the striped jumpsuit that we had painted for Josh (the guy who didn't show up) and we had to carry it around between us all night and it was heavy. Also it didn't "billow" correctly like a flag is supposed to do in the wind. Which was the whole point of the costume. Thanks a lot Josh. You kind of ruined Halloween for me. Forever.

Call Me Maybe

Communication, or the lack thereof, plays a vital role in my daily mishaps here in Turkey. It’s nice to know that whomever I may be talking with will readily try to interpret my pantomimes/ exaggerated gestures – and if that does not work out they will quickly run to find the best English speaker to help them riddle out what the hell I want. But sometimes we (the Turkish stranger and I) have to figure out things the hard way.

Dealing with my cell phone is easily the most challenging thing that I've had to face in Turkey. I can’t decide if I’m just really "bad at cell phones" (absoLUTELY possible), or if this particular situation is exceptional. Nothing about my phone makes sense – not the 13 random texts I receive in Turkish each day, not the miniature screen that is impossible to type upon, not the fact that my phone chooses to call half a dozen random people each and every day without my permission and certainly not the fact that ofttimes it won’t allow me to call and text the folks that I do want to connect with.

I go to Turkcell a couple of times a week to discuss my problems with the employees that speak no English. I bring in handwritten notes (in Turkish) to explain my various situations, because I function in this country as if I were a four year old child. And they respond to me, in like, with handwritten maps explaining their side of the situation.

Here’s an example of what I received the last time I was in:

 So, like, yeah, we don’t get each other. That’s cool. I think there are a lot of things that are just different around here. It’s ok, I usually just shrug it off and whisper quietly to myself, “wtf Turkey.”

I found this posted on a tree at my school last week. 

I like the message. Kicking should not be tolerated on campus. But do you know what I like even more? I believe the child in the PSA pictured above has removed his foot and turned it into a semi-automatic weapon. It also appears that the assaulter has previously removed both of the feet of the assaulted. And YET the victim is still smiling. That's how it is around here folks. People are happy. EVEN in stressful situations. In the very least they will put on a good face.

So what is the point of all of this?? Well, recently I realized something fairly amazing -- each and every morning that I wake up here in Izmir, I feel grateful. I am so grateful to live in a place where the result of my discomfort regularly turns into laughter. I am surrounded by people who want to help me -- which empowers me to try more new things. I am constantly handed opportunities to see things in a different light in this unprecedented stage of my life. 

And you know what? It makes me really happy.

So happy.