Relocated.

I finally have had it with the block on Blogspot. Turkey doesn't seem to be lifting the ban anytime soon, so I am taking my business elsewhere.
Read my new blog!
http://conqueringconstantinople.tumblr.com/

Capri lives up to expectations.

I got to Naples two nights ago after spending an unreasonable amount of time trying to figure out the Italian railway system.  It's really quite simple, actually.  I just went about doing everything in kind of a backwards order.  I will spare you the details.
I met up with Stella in the hostel called Giovanni's House, so named for the Italian bachelor that runs it.  Whatever notion you have about a typical Italian bachelor, ignore it. Giovanni is a really nice guy who treats his guests like they are his children, cooking us dinner and serenading us on his guitar.  Naples is famous for being the birthplace of pizza, and as soon as I put my things away we rushed off to have the very best that Naples has to offer at Gino Sorbillo's.  The main difference between American pizza and Italian pizza is that Italian pizza has thin crust, and it just looks and tastes a lot healthier.  I think the ingredients are generally fresher, too, and less greasy.  So you don't feel guilty about eating an entire pizza, and topping it off with a cannoli.  Or two.  And maybe a doughnut.

Stella says I look like Gaston in this picture.  I thing I have a knack for looking like Disney characters.

The weather in Naples was less than beautiful yesterday, and seeing as Stella has already been in the city for a week we really restricted our sight-seeing.  We didn't really feel bad about it, either.  There's no point in forcing exploration if it's going to make you grumpy.  One of the cool things we did was explore the underground Roman/Greco cistern called the Napoli Sotterranea.  It involved a dark, damp  cavern, a large tour group led by a small Italian man who was self conscious of his cracking voice, and crawling through tight spaces for the fun of it.  It was not for the claustrophobic, but I found it satisfying because we got to carry lit candles around and pretend we were living in the old days.  We also learned that the cistern was used to hide refugees during WWII.  Stella and I are still uncertain which side the refugees would have been on.

Glamour queen on the chair lift

Today we woke up at the crack of 7:15 to catch a ferry to Capri.  It was the best day in Italy I could have possibly asked for.  While the ferries in Istanbul are much cheaper, I really cannot complain because it was definitely worth the 18 euro (round trip) fare.  Capri is a fantastic island, and it only took about 1.5 hours to get there from the port in Naples.  It is basically a mountain rising out of the Mediterranean Sea, which makes exploring by foot fairly daunting.  When we got to the island, Stella and I hopped on a shuttle up to Ana Capri, which is a slightly more residential and quiet area of the island.  Even in the off-season the island is quite posh and touristy.  It kind of reminded me of an Italian version of Edgartown on Martha's Vineyard.  From Ana Capri we took a chair lift up to the very peak of the island, which had an awesome view.  While the sky was still a bit hazy, the weather was warm and it smelled like spring.  I was so, so happy.

No, that is not midriff

 

 

 

 

It was kind of windy.  Stella says I look like Santa Claus in this picture.

Perched.  

We made our way back down to Capri, the regular part of the island, with just a little time to spare before we had to catch the ferry back to Naples.  The lighting was really pretty, and we got some nice shots of the houses and the cliffs.

 

Photo credit goes to Stella for all of these pictures.  I had my camera, but I did not bring my cord to upload my pictures to the computer.  I will try to add more when I get back to Turkey, if I can still circumnavigate the blogspot block!  

Tomorrow I'm heading out of Naples in the morning to spend about 24 hours in Rome before I go back to Turkey.  Rome will be great, but it's going to be hard to beat Capri!

This is why I have not posted recently.

http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/n.php?n=blogspot-is-banned-2011-03-02
Blogspot has been blocked by the Turkish government. The ban is hopefully going to be temporary, but I guess we'll have to wait and see. However, I am sneaky and I have devised a way to access it. Hope they don't catch me!
I am going to Italy this Saturday for a few days, and tragically I will have to miss my classes on Tuesday and Wednesday (but I have no Monday classes, what what!). I'll try to update from the road, but until then...
Ciao! <-- Cliché but I couldn't help myself.

The Pera Museum

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am an art history major, and that is why I am here.  When I have begun to settle into a routine of waking up, going to class, watching an absurd amount of Mad Men, and possibly getting exercise if I'm not too emotionally exhausted from watching Donald Draper's life fall apart at the seams, it is important that I take a step back and remember that I'm in Istanbul.  Despite what the weather throws at us, which has been rain for the past week, I need to keep my head above the clouds and remember how lucky I am to be here.

Yesterday my flatmate Zoe and I battled the elements to go see the Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera exhibition at the Pera Museum in the Beyoğlu district of Istanbul, a short walk from Taksim Square.  I have been familiar with both artists for a long time, but I had never seen their work in person, and I had been meaning to go since last semester.  Kahlo featured more prominently, probably because Rivera is mostly known for his murals, and they aren't exactly portable.  The exhibition space was small, but the museum managed to fit quite a lot into the confined area.  I learned that Kahlo and Rivera were actually married, which was news to me, and it was interesting seeing how they influenced each other.  One particular Frida Kahlo painting struck me, mostly because I thought it was oddly spiritual and quite strange.  Notice how Rivera is featured in the painting.

The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Me,  and Señor Xolotl
Frida Kahlo, 1949

Kahlo was in a tragic accident when she was 18, and throughout the rest of her life underwent something like 20 surgeries.  She lived in constant physical pain, and died at a relatively young age.  She had several miscarriages that I imagine were related to her physical maladies, and these also influenced the emotional elements of her work.

Miscarriage
Frida Kahlo

The Pera Museum also has an great collection of orientalist paintings, which includes one in particular that I recognized from its prints, which are sold all over the city.  I am sorry to report that I don't really know about the history of tortoise training in Istanbul.  I don't really think it actually happened.  But it's a nice thought, isn't it?  

The Tortoise Trainer
Osman Hamdi Bey, 1906/1907

I don't think the lettuce that this guy is feeding them is really inspiring the tortoises to perform.  I know that if I were a tortoise, you'd have to give me something a little bit more exciting than lettuce if you wanted me to do tricks.  Just saying.

I have a long way to go.

Yesterday I got back to Istanbul, and stepping out of the airport in my snazzy ski jacket I immediately broke into a sweat when the 14 degree Celsius air hit me like a wall.  It is unseasonably warm, but not warm enough to wear only a denim jacket at night.  I found that out the hard way.  Apparently I really struggle with choosing appropriate outerwear.
So I was reading this article (read it!) on the TimeOut Istanbul website about how to truly integrate as an expat.  For obvious reasons the title "Expat transition tips" attracted my attention, because I am "transitioning" and I am (kinda, not really) an expat.  I got a little downhearted when I realized that according to this magazine, I am nowhere near being an integrated expat.

Since the article presents transition tips in list form (yay!), I will follow the same format in describing why I am failing at my goal.
1.  Befriend a local Manav, Tekel, and Eczane.
Wait, who are Manav, Tekel, and Eczane?  Ohhh I get it, Eczane means pharmacy.  So they want me to befriend local shopkeepers so I can make friends in the area, support local business, and practice Turkish.  While I do go to local shops and I've been to a pharmacy a couple of times, I am nowhere near being buddies with any of the shopkeepers.  From what I can tell, at least in my neighborhood, the staffs at these places are big enough so that I don't run into the same people regularly.  There is one exception I can think of, and that's the Hisar bakery where I buy my bread, and they're just straight-up unfriendly and far too busy to care about being my friend.
2.  Jump off the fence and pick a team.
I haven't even been to a soccer (football, what have you) match yet.  Oops.
3.  Learn Backgammon in a makeshift teagarden.
I know how to play, but I always forget how to set up the board, and I avoid playing against Turks because I hate to lose.  However, I do know that the Turkish word for backgammon is Tavla.
4. Leave food out for the street cats.
Why would I do this when the stray cats on campus are notorious for taking food out of your hands? They have eaten enough of everyone else's sandwiches to survive off of their own fat stores for a year.  I have the scratches to prove it, too.
5. Slow it down to a snail's pace.
I am a fast walker, even by American standards.  People tell me that it's because I'm tall, but I think it's because I'm from a cold climate and I have a hurry-your-ass-up instinct to get where I'm going as fast as I can so I can get out of the cold.  I really doubt that I will ever stop habitually passing people on the sidewalks of Turkey.
6.  Go public with a loud lovers tiff.
Not my style, thanks.  First of all, I prefer passive aggression to straight-up confrontation.  In fact, I avoid confrontation as much as I can.  In public?  Forget about it.  Oh yeah, and I don't have a lover.  So there's that element, too.
7. Make out passionately in a cafe.
See above.
8.  Join a protest.
The one time I encountered riot police, I was innocently walking with my friend Alison to a bus stop.  We both saw them marching towards us and we ran the other way.  Like I said, I'm non-confrontational.
9.  Drink Efes.
Ok, you got me.  I do drink Efes.
10.  Get up close and personal.
I guess I can work on it, but I don't really feel the need to ask people how much they weigh, what they make, and how old they are.  Maybe I will start.  Next time the crew coach Batuhan asks me how much I weigh, I'm going to turn the question around on him.  Apparently he used to be a lightweight!

So needless to say, I have a lot to work on before I am a properly integrated expat.  I wonder how many of these I can accomplish in the next four months...

My valentine.

This post is specially dedicated to my valentine, Alison Rogers.  Alison and I spent the weekend together having adventures in the Amherst College area and basically being our mischievous selves.  It was great to see her after our "trial separation" of three weeks, while she was getting back in the swing of things at Amherst and I was sitting at home being a bum.  She took me to a Gretchen Parlato jazz concert in Vermont, which was reminiscent of the times we went to Nardis Jazz club in Istanbul together.  Alison is a musician and a jazz aficionado.  I just tag along and try to look cultured and important.  We also spent an afternoon galavanting through Northampton, MA.  I asked Alison whether there was a special hipster convention happening there that weekend.  She said it's always like that.  I didn't get any photos, but picture this: an ocean of flannel and mustaches.

Today we wandered around Amherst looking for a nail salon, and in the meantime stumbled across this hidden gem.  The first one I've seen since I've been back in the States.  Just for the fun of it, let's compare it to a slightly more prolific mosque in Turkey.  

A standard "Yes, of course we accept your religion!  Just don't get all uppity about it" mosque in Amherst, MA

The "needs no more explanation" Blue Mosque in Istanbul

Before I headed back home, I had to document the decoration scheme in Alison's room.  Most importantly, she has a fantastic street sign hanging on her wall that I obtained and gave to her in Istanbul.  Necessary background information: Alison plays the trumpet. She also has a Turkish flag with a portrait of Atatürk hanging on her wall to watch her while she sleeps.  Just what every girl needs.

What a cutie.  And Alison isn't bad either.

<3 valentine 4eva!!1!
This is exactly what it looks like.

List time, again!

If I recall correctly, I made a list of things I needed to do before I went to Istanbul in September.  It featured such items as a cash box/ mini-safe and an electricity converter.  Turns out I never bought a mini-safe (thank GOODNESS, what a waste that would have been), and the electricity converter I bought was completely bogus and works nowhere in Europe, let alone Turkey.  Thanks, Radio Shack lady.
There are several things that I need to do before I go back to Turkey next week, and since the inner workings of my mind are interesting sometimes, I thought I would share.
1) Mani-pedi.  I think I have only had one manicure and one pedicure in my life, but for some reason I am really craving a good pampering before I go back to Turkey.  Maybe because I know that in Istanbul, I will steer clear of all beauty salons and kuaförler (hairdressers), lest my elementary Turkish skills result in me getting a mullet or a rat tail.  You'd be surprised how common they are, much to my aesthetic dismay.
2) A hair cut.  See above.
3) Annie's Macaroni and Cheese.  As many boxes as I can fit in my suitcase.  I never missed it more in my life than I did last semester.
4) Peanut butter.  A good, nauseatingly processed American brand like Skippy, or Jif.  Yum.
5) Heinz ketchup?  Maybe.  Turkish ketchup isn't as delicious.  However, there is always the possibility of a ketchup explosion in my suitcase.  That happened to my shampoo bottle on the first trip to Turkey, but for some reason I think a ketchup explosion would be less tolerable.
6) Maple syrup!  Although a maple syrup explosion would be far worse than a ketchup explosion, I will sacrifice my wardrobe and my electronics if need be.  Gotta have maple syrup.
6) A spray-on tan.  Just kidding.  Kind of.
7) Time for an iPhone upgrade!  Wahoo!  And this time, fingers crossed, I will be able to use it in Turkey.

10 days until I head back.  Getting excited for my sweet new apartment and warmer weather!  Things I will miss: This guy.