I spent the better part of my Saturday in Asia. The Bosphorus separates the Asian side of Istanbul from the European side so it is only a thirty minute commute to the other continent. Some friends and I checked out a nice variety of restaurants and bars until about midnight, then I flew solo to the bus station to go back to campus. Because of terrible traffic and the fact that the buses only run once an hour, I didn't make it on until about 2:30AM. Delirious from a long day of walking and a birthday party the night before which left me sleeping on a poolside chair, I slouched against the bus wall and stared out the window, my eyelids heavy. Two French girls stood next to me, their mood far more jovial than everyone else's, repetitively engaged in quick spurts of annoying giggle chatting. After about 15 minutes of this, the girl's ceaseless sounds echoing in every skull and unrelenting traffic adding to the frustration, a Turkish woman whipped around and from the very front of the bus, admonished the girls in a desperately pleading tone:
"My head it hurts! Could you please be quiet! be quiet be quiet be quiet! I am not well!"
The bus became dead silent. Only the light squeaks of the suspension system could be heard. Nobody said a word for about 20 seconds, then the hushed whispering started up as it always does after a collective surprise. Within about two minutes, the conversation resumed its normal volume. The girls did their best to be quiet, but small squeals of laughter continued to emit from their excited exchange. My eyes glued to the woman, I watched as she threw her head down, shot severe glances in the girls' direction and complained to her boyfriend adjacent to her. She writhed in dismay as the girls continued. I just knew she was about to pop. The human body can only bottle intense emotion for so long. This time she shot up, grabbing her man's arm, her intoxication apparent:
"I am not well! You must be quiet or I will call the police! Shut your little foreign mouths!"
Now obvious that she was causing far more of a ruckus than the girls, the looks of consternation shifted from the latter to her. She took her seat and began yelling at her boyfriend at the top of her lungs in Turkish. She was a loose cannon. At this point, stifled laugher came from the exhausted bus patrons, everyone fully aware of the ridiculousness of the occasion. She unabashedly continued her rant. I thought about piping up, but realized it was not my time or place. A Turkish man finally rose up to the occasion. With wild gesticulations, he cussed the woman out and the two engaged in a bitter tussle. The rest of the bus rooted for him as he said something to the effect of, "You are causing the problem now. It is not these girls, IT IS YOU!"
The boyfriend tried to fend off the crowd of determined animals but it was futile. Within minutes, half the bus arose in a cacophony of violent Turkish and the other end, howling laughter. The first man who raised his voice moved forward intimidatingly with two of his cronies and commanded they leave the bus. The driver obeyed and the two were literally booted off as the bus resounded with wild applause and "Bravos!"
I chuckled to myself and joined in on camaraderie, casting my share of cheers. The bus, now indisputably bonded, moved on down the dimly lit streets toward its distant destination.
Contrary to my former post, here is evidence that some Turks will raise their voices and lose their tempers when provoked. It just goes to show that stereotyping never works. An entire culture cannot have parameters placed on its every action or tendency. We are all humans and have similar desires. And the desires of the group will always overshadow the desires of the individual. That's power in numbers. And that is the one constant I have observed.
9/30/12
9/27/12
"You Look Like an Avatar"
"You should be more humble..." That's what my roommate told me. We had been in the dormitory management office and one of the workers behind the desk had stared at me for five straight minutes, then told me that I looked like an Avatar. No, not one of the cute little Wii avatars, or the Last Airbender avatar. Like the freakishly tall blue creatures with the long faces. I guess I took it a little too seriously.
The Turkish people have this implicit understanding that individual frustrations are not to be displayed. It is frowned upon or viewed are prideful when one places a precedence on his own problems. Thus, to be offended or angry means that one cares too much about himself and needs to relax. This is a hard difference because when something is frustrating me, I am usually confrontational or intentional about addressing it. But the Turkish mentality sees very little excuse for this. And that is precisely why, after an entire month of being here, I have yet to see one angry person. I have viewed reserved frustration, but not anger. Living in New York City this summer, I don't think I ever walked a block without seeing someone screaming into a cell phone or bitching out a deli worker for inadequate service. We value our expression in American (and of course, freedom of speech) but I think it can often be a deconstructive expression and largely based in pride. Many Americans, myself included, run their mouths and give very little thought to what comes out of them. In Turkey, reservation entails thinking twice before you speak and ensuring that when the time comes, your words carry weight. So the whole Avatar thing, carefully premeditated as it was, became the man's way of testing my pride level. I flunked the examination.
Last week, my friend Sam and I visited the castle walls in Old City Istanbul. The Christians erected these walls during the crusades to keep the Ottoman's out. There was the natural sea barrier on two sides but they needed another bulwark and built this wall as a means to protect the third side. During the crusades, Constantinople was the commercial and governmental head. Its protection was vital. But the walls proved conquerable as the Muslim's sacked Constantinople in the Fourth Crusade. It was incredible to climb up these walls and look out over the city. Just thinking about how many people fought and died right where I was standing was a bit eerie but incredible at the same time. For those of you familiar with Lord of the Rings, imagine the battle of Helms Deep where Legolas and Gimli are tallying their ork kills. It was that badass.
The Turkish people have this implicit understanding that individual frustrations are not to be displayed. It is frowned upon or viewed are prideful when one places a precedence on his own problems. Thus, to be offended or angry means that one cares too much about himself and needs to relax. This is a hard difference because when something is frustrating me, I am usually confrontational or intentional about addressing it. But the Turkish mentality sees very little excuse for this. And that is precisely why, after an entire month of being here, I have yet to see one angry person. I have viewed reserved frustration, but not anger. Living in New York City this summer, I don't think I ever walked a block without seeing someone screaming into a cell phone or bitching out a deli worker for inadequate service. We value our expression in American (and of course, freedom of speech) but I think it can often be a deconstructive expression and largely based in pride. Many Americans, myself included, run their mouths and give very little thought to what comes out of them. In Turkey, reservation entails thinking twice before you speak and ensuring that when the time comes, your words carry weight. So the whole Avatar thing, carefully premeditated as it was, became the man's way of testing my pride level. I flunked the examination.
Last week, my friend Sam and I visited the castle walls in Old City Istanbul. The Christians erected these walls during the crusades to keep the Ottoman's out. There was the natural sea barrier on two sides but they needed another bulwark and built this wall as a means to protect the third side. During the crusades, Constantinople was the commercial and governmental head. Its protection was vital. But the walls proved conquerable as the Muslim's sacked Constantinople in the Fourth Crusade. It was incredible to climb up these walls and look out over the city. Just thinking about how many people fought and died right where I was standing was a bit eerie but incredible at the same time. For those of you familiar with Lord of the Rings, imagine the battle of Helms Deep where Legolas and Gimli are tallying their ork kills. It was that badass.
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| View of the Golden Horn from the castle walls |
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| Climbing the steepest stairs of my life to the walls |
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| 70 foot pit that some bros got tossed into during the battles |
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| My roomie Utku. His name means "victory." He is a rockstar. |
9/20/12
The Bird Catcher
I like to break the routine. Today during my break between classes I decided to travel down to the little town of Sariyer and peoplewatch by the Bosphorus. I found a spot of shade on the grass and observed the cacophonous birds, effervescent children and snoozing dogs. The birds commanded attention as they fluttered about busily in search of their singular objective: food. A stampede of feet interrupted my existential daydream about the life of birds, and I looked up to find three generations: a grandfather, a father, and a son. The latter, a three year old, led the way, bouncing to and fro as all children do when overwhelmed by their surroundings. The birds continued to make their presence felt as they flapped about these three. The son came upon a little robin that had been separated from his comrades. The boy inched closer to the stranded warrior with deliberate hesitation. Suddenly two hands worked swiftly to gather up the tiny bird. As the poor soul squeaked rhythmically to deliver a clear distress call, the father smiled and beckoned his son closer. The boy looked upon his father as one stares in disbelief as something previously thought impossible, proves otherwise. The grandfather simply chuckled to himself. The father whispered words of reassurance and offered his chirping hands to the boy. The boy reached his little finger out to the bird and stroked its head. The father praised his son and quickly unclasped his hands, releasing the distressed soldier from his tortuous captivity. The bird shot out and sang with delight. He reunited with his kin, never to wander from the group again. The father took his son over to the washbasin, scrubbed their palms and the three generations proceeded through the park, hand in hand in hand in hand.
I can't exactly figure why I found this short sequence so profoundly moving- a father taking his son through the world, finding ways to help him make sense of it. Perhaps it was the generational factor. Perhaps it was just a father joking around. But I saw something more; I saw harmony. This place is filled with it. From the way family members support each other to the way businessmen respect one another. From the stray dogs that delight in their freedom to the smoking man that directs the foreigner to his destination. Everything here is part of the whole. Anything that seeks independence is quickly reminded of its responsibility to the group. Its responsibility to this unity.
I can't exactly figure why I found this short sequence so profoundly moving- a father taking his son through the world, finding ways to help him make sense of it. Perhaps it was the generational factor. Perhaps it was just a father joking around. But I saw something more; I saw harmony. This place is filled with it. From the way family members support each other to the way businessmen respect one another. From the stray dogs that delight in their freedom to the smoking man that directs the foreigner to his destination. Everything here is part of the whole. Anything that seeks independence is quickly reminded of its responsibility to the group. Its responsibility to this unity.
9/17/12
First Day of Classes
After two weeks of getting acclimated to my new home, I finally started classes today. And it was quite an experience.
As I wandered desperately around the halls, my beffudledness oozed. Not only does every building here look exactly the same, but the abbreviations for the buildings make about as much sense as those Southerners that keep llamas as domestic pets. For example, my marketing class, which qualified as a "business administration" course, should intuitively be in the "Administrative Studies" building. Alas, no. I finally fumbled into the correct classroom four buildings further and twenty minutes later, placing my arrival at a fashionably late 9:50, for a 9:30 course. Needless to say I felt like a Freshman again. But as usual, I was able to laugh about it and not stress.
I grabbed a syllabus and took my seat but almost immediately stood back up as I noticed the striking beauty of the woman up front. I thought to myself, "There is no way a woman this attractive could be teaching Accounting." Well, welcome to Turkey. She proceeded to show a five minute video (in Turkish) about managerial accounting. She then abruptly asked for responses. Needless to say, I understood absolutely nothing and could therefore contribute nothing. Awesome start.
But thankfully the courses are taught in English and I found this one video to be an exception to this educational mandate. But despite being taught in my native tongue, I still felt a bit unsettled in the classroom. For one, Turkish students rarely ever raise their voices in class. For any reason. Because of this, my normal inquisitive self had to be restrained in order to not be "that American" or "that overly talkative classmate." The teachers command the classroom and most of the students just sit and (hopefully) soak in their words. In two of my three classes, I was also the only non-Turkish student and while other students partook in little conversations, I found myself facing that insurmountable language barrier again. But I decided getting to know my classmates was more important than risking awkwardness so I jutted myself in and introduced myself. And I never regretted it. A few times the students were taken aback. But it struck me, as a few students have mentioned, that it really benefits them to carry conversations in English as it is a language all the students are still grasping. So I can justify it now. Phew. But hopefully I will soon be able to communicate with them adequately in THEIR native tongue.
I am also taking six courses compared to my usual load of four courses. So I will be a busy bee this semester. And they are all business classes save for Turkish language and Turkish culture. But I am eager to get underway and start studying. Blessings upon each of you out there. And thank you again for taking the time to read into my little life. As a token of appreciation I would like to share a picture I took as I travelled to Kilyos and watched the sun set over the Black Sea last night. Bask in its splendor.
Oh and one more thing. I took shots as I noticed these wild horses roaming about this small village. The little girl in the picture was being cute and making faces at the horses until she thought it humorous to pick up a whopping dirt clod and hurl it at the pony's face. It hit him smack between the eyes and burst into dust. She laughed and ran away. It was one of the more terrible things I have seen in quite some time. The pony was okay but that didn't stop me from casting deep stared of admonishment in the girl's direction.
As I wandered desperately around the halls, my beffudledness oozed. Not only does every building here look exactly the same, but the abbreviations for the buildings make about as much sense as those Southerners that keep llamas as domestic pets. For example, my marketing class, which qualified as a "business administration" course, should intuitively be in the "Administrative Studies" building. Alas, no. I finally fumbled into the correct classroom four buildings further and twenty minutes later, placing my arrival at a fashionably late 9:50, for a 9:30 course. Needless to say I felt like a Freshman again. But as usual, I was able to laugh about it and not stress.
I grabbed a syllabus and took my seat but almost immediately stood back up as I noticed the striking beauty of the woman up front. I thought to myself, "There is no way a woman this attractive could be teaching Accounting." Well, welcome to Turkey. She proceeded to show a five minute video (in Turkish) about managerial accounting. She then abruptly asked for responses. Needless to say, I understood absolutely nothing and could therefore contribute nothing. Awesome start.
But thankfully the courses are taught in English and I found this one video to be an exception to this educational mandate. But despite being taught in my native tongue, I still felt a bit unsettled in the classroom. For one, Turkish students rarely ever raise their voices in class. For any reason. Because of this, my normal inquisitive self had to be restrained in order to not be "that American" or "that overly talkative classmate." The teachers command the classroom and most of the students just sit and (hopefully) soak in their words. In two of my three classes, I was also the only non-Turkish student and while other students partook in little conversations, I found myself facing that insurmountable language barrier again. But I decided getting to know my classmates was more important than risking awkwardness so I jutted myself in and introduced myself. And I never regretted it. A few times the students were taken aback. But it struck me, as a few students have mentioned, that it really benefits them to carry conversations in English as it is a language all the students are still grasping. So I can justify it now. Phew. But hopefully I will soon be able to communicate with them adequately in THEIR native tongue.
I am also taking six courses compared to my usual load of four courses. So I will be a busy bee this semester. And they are all business classes save for Turkish language and Turkish culture. But I am eager to get underway and start studying. Blessings upon each of you out there. And thank you again for taking the time to read into my little life. As a token of appreciation I would like to share a picture I took as I travelled to Kilyos and watched the sun set over the Black Sea last night. Bask in its splendor.
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| Sunset over the Black Sea |
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Oh and one more thing. I took shots as I noticed these wild horses roaming about this small village. The little girl in the picture was being cute and making faces at the horses until she thought it humorous to pick up a whopping dirt clod and hurl it at the pony's face. It hit him smack between the eyes and burst into dust. She laughed and ran away. It was one of the more terrible things I have seen in quite some time. The pony was okay but that didn't stop me from casting deep stared of admonishment in the girl's direction.
9/15/12
Old City
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| The Hagia Sophia |
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| Inside the historic mosque |
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| And the angels sang |
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| Topkapi Palace |
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| Stuffing in the back of cabs |
9/12/12
Safety, Security Solace and Toilets
The news lately has been riddled with unsettling news from the Middle East. The bitter, continuing conflict in Syria, the extremist attack on the American consulate in Libya and, most unnerving and closer to home, a suicide bomber in Istanbul. While politicians and the media continue their rants about undeserved violence and possible retaliation, I just wanted to take a second to let those of you keeping tabs on me know that I am in a very safe region in Turkey.
The suicide bombing, which I will post a link to below, took place on Monday in Istanbul. It is in an area of town that someone of my ethnicity and dress preferences would never be near. The bomber was a member of an outlawed revolutionary party and appears to have acted alone. As the article notes, these attacks, which have occurred sporadically over the past few years are almost always targeted at police officers and government employees. Istanbul has seen its share of riots as well as protests occur regularly. Police are stationed all over town to quickly subdue any uprisings and those that have occurred since the Gazi Riots of 1995 are generally smaller in number and in scope.
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/police-officer-killed-in-istanbul-suicide-bombing.aspx?pageID=238&nID=29852&NewsCatID=341
The campus of Koc University is sequestered in the hills of Sariyer, the northernmost district of Istanbul. The security here is unprecedented and the students very involved in local NGOs and other various civil society endeavors. Trips into the central area of Istanbul are infrequent and the CIEE Study Abroad program that I am with here has our safety as their number one priority and would never lead us to a part of town in which that security would be jeopardized. So to those of you that have reached out, I greatly appreciate it and just wanted to check in with you.
On a lighter note, I thought I would indulge you with some Toilet Talk.
Here the "toilets" can be literal holes in the floor where it is anything goes. In certain dire circumstances, it is best to bear down, spread oneself however inadequately on either side of the terribly slippery edges and cast prayers of protection in God's general direction. After the parcel has been delivered, one must then lunge at the infuriatingly distant paper roll and wad the negative-four ply toilet paper that makes Gordon's teepee seem like silk baby wipes. Ahh but the deed is not done. One must still make his way across the sloshy, newspaper laden tiles to the "wash region." Here you stare at your impossibly cracked reflection in the mirror that would draw utmost sympathy from the narcissistic Queen in Sleeping Beauty. The water which probably drains straight from the rather-polluted Bosphorus, combined with the soap that resembles liquidized, albino beetle larvae, leaves your hands feeling dirtier than whatever the worst part of the adventure may have been. Almost finished! Settle with the fact that there will be no paper towel left and make the smart, environmentally conscience choice to use the hand dryer which you swear will actually emit moisturized air to 'dry' your impossibly filthy hands. Decide to rub your ten little phalanges on your newly purchased, formerly immaculate white button down and proceed through the door. Make sure to flash your inevitable smile and give a polite "Merhaba" as you make way for the next unfortunate victim.
At my school and in the nice restaurants, however, these unfortunate urinary utilities become pristine porcelain poopers. First time I used the toilets here (which are, by the way, about 5 inches higher off the ground than American toilets. It baffles me how a generally shorter population can sit upon these toilets and not lose their aim) I felt a tremendous rush of excitement. Not only did I revel in the simple pleasure of having my refined space to contemplate my day, but I had the mental prowess to notice a fun little feature called a bidet. Now never have I had the fortune to stumble upon one of these impossibly handy inventions before so the first time was a treat! If you are unfamiliar with a bidet, I recommend a quick google search. Just remember when it's your turn to use one, check the water pressure before commencing the shelling. Some sphincters don't take kindly to the pressurized jet stream.
The suicide bombing, which I will post a link to below, took place on Monday in Istanbul. It is in an area of town that someone of my ethnicity and dress preferences would never be near. The bomber was a member of an outlawed revolutionary party and appears to have acted alone. As the article notes, these attacks, which have occurred sporadically over the past few years are almost always targeted at police officers and government employees. Istanbul has seen its share of riots as well as protests occur regularly. Police are stationed all over town to quickly subdue any uprisings and those that have occurred since the Gazi Riots of 1995 are generally smaller in number and in scope.
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/police-officer-killed-in-istanbul-suicide-bombing.aspx?pageID=238&nID=29852&NewsCatID=341
The campus of Koc University is sequestered in the hills of Sariyer, the northernmost district of Istanbul. The security here is unprecedented and the students very involved in local NGOs and other various civil society endeavors. Trips into the central area of Istanbul are infrequent and the CIEE Study Abroad program that I am with here has our safety as their number one priority and would never lead us to a part of town in which that security would be jeopardized. So to those of you that have reached out, I greatly appreciate it and just wanted to check in with you.
On a lighter note, I thought I would indulge you with some Toilet Talk.
Here the "toilets" can be literal holes in the floor where it is anything goes. In certain dire circumstances, it is best to bear down, spread oneself however inadequately on either side of the terribly slippery edges and cast prayers of protection in God's general direction. After the parcel has been delivered, one must then lunge at the infuriatingly distant paper roll and wad the negative-four ply toilet paper that makes Gordon's teepee seem like silk baby wipes. Ahh but the deed is not done. One must still make his way across the sloshy, newspaper laden tiles to the "wash region." Here you stare at your impossibly cracked reflection in the mirror that would draw utmost sympathy from the narcissistic Queen in Sleeping Beauty. The water which probably drains straight from the rather-polluted Bosphorus, combined with the soap that resembles liquidized, albino beetle larvae, leaves your hands feeling dirtier than whatever the worst part of the adventure may have been. Almost finished! Settle with the fact that there will be no paper towel left and make the smart, environmentally conscience choice to use the hand dryer which you swear will actually emit moisturized air to 'dry' your impossibly filthy hands. Decide to rub your ten little phalanges on your newly purchased, formerly immaculate white button down and proceed through the door. Make sure to flash your inevitable smile and give a polite "Merhaba" as you make way for the next unfortunate victim.
At my school and in the nice restaurants, however, these unfortunate urinary utilities become pristine porcelain poopers. First time I used the toilets here (which are, by the way, about 5 inches higher off the ground than American toilets. It baffles me how a generally shorter population can sit upon these toilets and not lose their aim) I felt a tremendous rush of excitement. Not only did I revel in the simple pleasure of having my refined space to contemplate my day, but I had the mental prowess to notice a fun little feature called a bidet. Now never have I had the fortune to stumble upon one of these impossibly handy inventions before so the first time was a treat! If you are unfamiliar with a bidet, I recommend a quick google search. Just remember when it's your turn to use one, check the water pressure before commencing the shelling. Some sphincters don't take kindly to the pressurized jet stream.
9/11/12
Little Worlds
Last night my university rented out a club for all the exchange students to meet, greet and party. There are roughly 250 other international students at Koc and this night proved a great opportunity to meet with students from Holland, Italy, Sweden, Pakistan Germany and Canada. Overseeing the event were about 50 or so Turkish mentors- Koc students that are helping the international students with their transition. As Koc University is one of the premier and most well-funded universities in Turkey, it attracts the upper echelons of the academic world and the Turkish students here are not only driven, but understand the privilege to study at such a place. Because of this they are very sharp and are fascinating to have cultural conversations with.
Outside of the club, I shared a word with Metahan- a brilliant marketing student with a fiery passion for deep discussion. We hit it off and within a few minutes found ourselves entangled in a messy web of political and cultural observations. I asked Metahan what he thought about Americans. I told him to be brutally honest and as blatant as possible. He replied, "There is a conception in Turkey that Americans are ignorant and stupid. They are so concerned with themselves and their own little world that they shun the rest of the world." Although hearing these words stung, I knew he was right. And sure enough, as I toured around and tipsily inquired about Turkish views of Americans, I found this stereotype to be an unfortunate motif. What troubled me even more was the extensive knowledge these Turkish students had about American news and politics. They knew exactly what is happening with upcoming election and even commented on Mit Romney's past at Bain Capital and his involvement in the Winter Olympics in Utah.
Through the discussions I was able to pull away a couple reasons as to why many Turks view Americans as self-absorbed, ignorant and stupid.
America is its own little world
I always knew that America ranked among the most powerful nations in the world. We rule the entertainment, news, fashion and media industries. We create products, businesses and ideas that reshape the world. But what happens when we as a nation are entirely self-sufficient is that we have no reason to look outside of ourselves. And although we rely on many countries like China, Japan, and India for imports and services, only a small fringe of the population does direct business with these other nations. Many Americans simply utilize these goods and services while paying little or no mind to where they came from or at what expense. Although efficient, this system makes America out to be the circle of kids on the playground holding hands and facing inwards, paying no mind to the other kids shouting at them from behind. Our news and media give us the tools to connect with the rest of the world (I do think the Syrian conflict has been a great example of quality American reporting and one that has caught the attention of many in the U.S.) but there needs to be an intentional effort to follow this news and understand its implications. But even with the Syrian conflict, it is sad how it takes thousands of deaths for people to identify a problem. And currently, all we can do is cover the conflict as intervention seems to be out of the picture right now considering the American political scene. And what incentive is there for the America people to follow the news outside of their country if it bears no immediate effect on them? It takes a certain degree of selflessness and a desire to look outside of one's own immediate circumstances. And this is a trait that we, as a nation, have yet to muster.
America only wants imperialism
The Turkish also view America as an imperialist country that only intervenes if it benefits them in someway. A great example of this is in the fast food chains like McDonalds and Burger King which are luxurious dining establishments in Turkey with three floors each and rooftop dining areas. These businesses extend their influence as far as possible and hold dear to the thankfully unrealized fact that their food here is not viewed as processed shit. Individual American citizens have the same mentality. They will only visit places where they believe there is opportunity for them whether it be a vacation or business. And fundamentally there is nothing wrong with this. The human tendency is for us to exert our influence as much as possible until something stops us. It's the basic principle of inertia. But we cannot be offended when we are viewed as self-absorbed or ignorant when from every other perspective but our own, it is obvious that we are greedy capitalists with insatiable dominative tendencies.
Now whether these are universal views of America or they are contained to a distinct minority, they are important to consider. America is an incredible land of opportunity with some of the most brilliant scholars, innovative businessmen and philanthropic titans. But unless we as a nation halt every once in a while to understand the implications of our influence, we will always wonder why foreign countries resent us.
Outside of the club, I shared a word with Metahan- a brilliant marketing student with a fiery passion for deep discussion. We hit it off and within a few minutes found ourselves entangled in a messy web of political and cultural observations. I asked Metahan what he thought about Americans. I told him to be brutally honest and as blatant as possible. He replied, "There is a conception in Turkey that Americans are ignorant and stupid. They are so concerned with themselves and their own little world that they shun the rest of the world." Although hearing these words stung, I knew he was right. And sure enough, as I toured around and tipsily inquired about Turkish views of Americans, I found this stereotype to be an unfortunate motif. What troubled me even more was the extensive knowledge these Turkish students had about American news and politics. They knew exactly what is happening with upcoming election and even commented on Mit Romney's past at Bain Capital and his involvement in the Winter Olympics in Utah.
Through the discussions I was able to pull away a couple reasons as to why many Turks view Americans as self-absorbed, ignorant and stupid.
America is its own little world
I always knew that America ranked among the most powerful nations in the world. We rule the entertainment, news, fashion and media industries. We create products, businesses and ideas that reshape the world. But what happens when we as a nation are entirely self-sufficient is that we have no reason to look outside of ourselves. And although we rely on many countries like China, Japan, and India for imports and services, only a small fringe of the population does direct business with these other nations. Many Americans simply utilize these goods and services while paying little or no mind to where they came from or at what expense. Although efficient, this system makes America out to be the circle of kids on the playground holding hands and facing inwards, paying no mind to the other kids shouting at them from behind. Our news and media give us the tools to connect with the rest of the world (I do think the Syrian conflict has been a great example of quality American reporting and one that has caught the attention of many in the U.S.) but there needs to be an intentional effort to follow this news and understand its implications. But even with the Syrian conflict, it is sad how it takes thousands of deaths for people to identify a problem. And currently, all we can do is cover the conflict as intervention seems to be out of the picture right now considering the American political scene. And what incentive is there for the America people to follow the news outside of their country if it bears no immediate effect on them? It takes a certain degree of selflessness and a desire to look outside of one's own immediate circumstances. And this is a trait that we, as a nation, have yet to muster.
America only wants imperialism
The Turkish also view America as an imperialist country that only intervenes if it benefits them in someway. A great example of this is in the fast food chains like McDonalds and Burger King which are luxurious dining establishments in Turkey with three floors each and rooftop dining areas. These businesses extend their influence as far as possible and hold dear to the thankfully unrealized fact that their food here is not viewed as processed shit. Individual American citizens have the same mentality. They will only visit places where they believe there is opportunity for them whether it be a vacation or business. And fundamentally there is nothing wrong with this. The human tendency is for us to exert our influence as much as possible until something stops us. It's the basic principle of inertia. But we cannot be offended when we are viewed as self-absorbed or ignorant when from every other perspective but our own, it is obvious that we are greedy capitalists with insatiable dominative tendencies.
Now whether these are universal views of America or they are contained to a distinct minority, they are important to consider. America is an incredible land of opportunity with some of the most brilliant scholars, innovative businessmen and philanthropic titans. But unless we as a nation halt every once in a while to understand the implications of our influence, we will always wonder why foreign countries resent us.
9/9/12
The Boisterous Bosphorus
Egotism, Altruism and Happiness
Merhaba!
According to my orientation class, 77% of the population in Turkey considers themselves "happy." Although I have read statistics elsewhere that put the American happiness rate at a higher percentage, the Turkish people (as I have observed) have a deep-rooted happiness that is infectious. I wanted to take a second to write about why I think this may be. How can a country with almost 20% of its population living on or below the poverty line, consider themselves happy? There are a couple reasons this could be:
Turkish people have lower expectations than people in the U.S.
This point may seem severe at first but here me out. America, a Capitalist, entrepreneurially driven country, was founded on the belief that if one can summon the resources and willpower, one can succeed. As our country progressed, this possibility of succeeding blossomed into the possibility for thriving and dominating. With the proper drive, one can work his way up to the top. Most people in America have access to and take advantage of the available higher education systems. Students invest so much money in education and as these dues increase, so do our expectations. In Turkey, it is the other way around. A rigorous standardize test administered senior year of high school, determines one's eligibility for university. No one here cares about grades, extracurriculars, or letters of recommendation. If your scores aren't in that top 14%, it is over. Although this seems unjust from a Western perspective, it is accepted here. Many people realize early on that they will not be successful in the academic realm and settle with blue collar jobs. The few that do go on to professional careers are not envied; they are instead praised and helped up to the top by those beneath them. The rags to riches American mentality seems like a blessing, but it also makes everyone responsible for their own lack of success. The Turkish people accept the reality of the successful few and therefore find far more contentment and enjoyment in their positions, even if they are lesser. We tell ourselves in America that we envy other's riches, but really we envy the happiness we think it brings them. The Turkish people have learned happiness through accepting their fates and realizing their realities exist right in front of them, in their day to day responsibilities and not in their lofty expectations.
The Turkish people value relationships over tasks
One cannot escape the feeling here that all Turks are brothers and sisters. There is a compassion and understanding among the population that I have never before witnessed. These people accept, trust and love their own people. They are also very compassionate toward outsiders, if they embrace the culture. Ignorance and close-mindedness are not welcome here. Whereas in the U.S. there seems to be an "assume deceitful until proven trustful" mindset, in Turkey they will welcome you in with open arms and trust you until you give them reason to do otherwise. This compassion, as previously described, is infectious. Many here innately understand this trust principle and as a result, there is a deep-rooted love for the other and the community as a whole. When the people that surround you, trust you and want to lend a hand, happiness too lends a hand and desires you join it with love.
As happiness is found through the community and not in one's own accomplishments, the ego naturally loses its grasp. The Turks, although competitive in business and proficient in their tasks, are dedicated to the larger whole and lose focus of the individual parts. As long as they are cared for and loved, there seems to be no problem large enough to knock them off the tracks.
Now I realize that these are broad generalizations and stereotypes. But as I have yet to spend a full week here, I am simply noting my observations and backing them up. Just as 20th century Frenchmen Alexis de Tocqueville travelled to America and jotted down his observations of American life and democracy, so too will I record my thoughts as they arise. As Tocqueville wrote, “Nothing is more wonderful than the art of being free, but nothing is harder to learn how to use than freedom.” Americans bask in their freedom, but without harnessing it, our freedom can be our demise.
According to my orientation class, 77% of the population in Turkey considers themselves "happy." Although I have read statistics elsewhere that put the American happiness rate at a higher percentage, the Turkish people (as I have observed) have a deep-rooted happiness that is infectious. I wanted to take a second to write about why I think this may be. How can a country with almost 20% of its population living on or below the poverty line, consider themselves happy? There are a couple reasons this could be:
Turkish people have lower expectations than people in the U.S.
This point may seem severe at first but here me out. America, a Capitalist, entrepreneurially driven country, was founded on the belief that if one can summon the resources and willpower, one can succeed. As our country progressed, this possibility of succeeding blossomed into the possibility for thriving and dominating. With the proper drive, one can work his way up to the top. Most people in America have access to and take advantage of the available higher education systems. Students invest so much money in education and as these dues increase, so do our expectations. In Turkey, it is the other way around. A rigorous standardize test administered senior year of high school, determines one's eligibility for university. No one here cares about grades, extracurriculars, or letters of recommendation. If your scores aren't in that top 14%, it is over. Although this seems unjust from a Western perspective, it is accepted here. Many people realize early on that they will not be successful in the academic realm and settle with blue collar jobs. The few that do go on to professional careers are not envied; they are instead praised and helped up to the top by those beneath them. The rags to riches American mentality seems like a blessing, but it also makes everyone responsible for their own lack of success. The Turkish people accept the reality of the successful few and therefore find far more contentment and enjoyment in their positions, even if they are lesser. We tell ourselves in America that we envy other's riches, but really we envy the happiness we think it brings them. The Turkish people have learned happiness through accepting their fates and realizing their realities exist right in front of them, in their day to day responsibilities and not in their lofty expectations.
The Turkish people value relationships over tasks
One cannot escape the feeling here that all Turks are brothers and sisters. There is a compassion and understanding among the population that I have never before witnessed. These people accept, trust and love their own people. They are also very compassionate toward outsiders, if they embrace the culture. Ignorance and close-mindedness are not welcome here. Whereas in the U.S. there seems to be an "assume deceitful until proven trustful" mindset, in Turkey they will welcome you in with open arms and trust you until you give them reason to do otherwise. This compassion, as previously described, is infectious. Many here innately understand this trust principle and as a result, there is a deep-rooted love for the other and the community as a whole. When the people that surround you, trust you and want to lend a hand, happiness too lends a hand and desires you join it with love.
As happiness is found through the community and not in one's own accomplishments, the ego naturally loses its grasp. The Turks, although competitive in business and proficient in their tasks, are dedicated to the larger whole and lose focus of the individual parts. As long as they are cared for and loved, there seems to be no problem large enough to knock them off the tracks.
Now I realize that these are broad generalizations and stereotypes. But as I have yet to spend a full week here, I am simply noting my observations and backing them up. Just as 20th century Frenchmen Alexis de Tocqueville travelled to America and jotted down his observations of American life and democracy, so too will I record my thoughts as they arise. As Tocqueville wrote, “Nothing is more wonderful than the art of being free, but nothing is harder to learn how to use than freedom.” Americans bask in their freedom, but without harnessing it, our freedom can be our demise.
9/7/12
Top 10 Turkish Observations
I have only been in Turkey three days, but here are 10 observations regarding the life/culture. Perhaps as the semester progresses, these observations will either change or progress.
1) The Turkish are a gentle people- nearly every person carries him/herself in a considerate yet confident manner
2) The Turkish workforce is predominately young- nearly every Turk I have encountered in a blue collar job (ie. airport staff, university janitorial staff, bartenders) are in their early 20's.
3) People are valued over business- This is perhaps the most important observation. No matter what, the Turkish refuse to place their personal financial interests above others. Because of this, the Turkey will never be a narcissistic, production-focused society like America.
4) The Turkish women are positively striking- I have never seen women so beautiful. And they wear little to no makeup.
5) The society, although largely secular, has not forgotten their faith- 99% of the population in Turkey identifies as Muslim, but only 52% observe their religious duties. Many women do not wear headscarves in public and few observe the daily call to prayer. Yet the overwhelming majority of the population is selfless and communally driven-evidence that Islam still influences their daily life.
6) There are many couples in Turkey- Relationships are taken very seriously and carry weight. There is an obvious commitment and a contentment in relationships that I rarely observe in America.
7) Turks appreciate effort- Although my current Turkish is lacking, the Turks appreciate my attempts to communicate to them in their native tongue. Because of this, they are warm and receptive, which encourages me to continue learning and applying the language.
8) Turks do away with ego- To think of oneself as above others in Turkey is distasteful and largely disrespected. Only in coming here have I realized the legitimate problem America has with ego and pride. This has already been a tremendously humbling experience in that regard, and a trait that I hope to bring back to America.
9) Nobody tips in Turkey- I haven't quite figured out why but it makes many transactions much easier.
10) The Turks stare at me like they have never beheld a creature of my stature- Okay, I am tall. This is apparent. But when they see the combination of my height, my long hair and my comparatively white skin, they gawk in an unprecedented manner.
My beautiful campus:
My humble abode (without my soon to arrive Turkish roommate)
One of three restaurants (yes RESTAURANTS) on campus. There are also several cafes, a supermarket and a cafeteria on campus as well.
9/6/12
The Landing
I awoke to a ghastly image of a man in utter shock. I had passed out (yet again) on the flight. At least, this time, it was the last leg. I awoke, about twenty minutes prior to our landing in Istanbul, and my companion in Row 12 shuffled through his belongings like a man frantically searching through a pamphlet on how to disarm a bomb. I looked up at him, my eyelids heavy:
"You look like you lost something..."
"I did," he replied.
His hands shaking, he explained to me that while in a dead sprint to catch the plane, his wallet must have fallen out of his back pocket.
"I am coming to Istanbul. Not a penny to my name. And it is very late at night."
I shrugged and told him he was welcome to ride along in a taxi with me to the Koc University campus. A wave of relief splashed over his face and he smiled. He introduced himself as Paul and explained he was a Byzantine archaeologist flying in for a business trip. With little trouble, we landed, got our visas stamped, picked up the bags and were off. We flagged the cabbie and Paul informed me he was able to negotiate a low price for the ride up to Sariyer, the town in which my school resides. As we zipped about the narrow European roads, Paul did his best to answer my myriad questions about Turkish culture. He mentioned that within two minutes of being in the cab, the driver had asked him (in Turkish of course)- "What the hell do you feed that boy to make him so tall?!" Around this time he revealed his two favorite rules about Turkey- "1) There are no rules and 2) There are no rules!"
I bid Paul farewell as we dropped him at his hotel and he made arrangements to reimburse me the 40 Lira for the ride. As the cab sped off and nearly took out a 93 year old bag of bones in the process, I realized it was just the cabbie and I for the next 30 minutes.
I took in the views. The serenely lit mosques, the Bosphorus shimmering in the moonlight. The harsh scent of sulfur mixed with scents I have never before experienced. I thought about making small talk with the cabbie but soon realized that for the first time in my life, I faced a communication barrier that proved insurmountable. I knew not a lick of Turkish and he, not a hint of English. The silence engulfed us.
We finally arrived at the university at 2:30 am. Having commuted for 23 straight hours and eaten little, I began to regret that final complimentary whisky, courtesy of British air. We got through the main entrance and made our way past the dorm buildings. Having no idea where to go, the cabbie and I pulled into a frighteningly vacant lot and he began to honk his horn, searching desperately for any evidence of life. When he began to scream Turkish out his window into the pitch black night, I knew it was time to make a phone call. Finally, around 3:15 am, a heavy set, overly courteous Turk made his way toward the taxi, unloaded my bags and checked me in for the night. Knowing full well that orientation began in 5 hours, I did my best to settle down and get some sleep despite my body's reluctance. As the blackness took hold, feelings of displacement and anxiety retreated and a rush of excitement came forth. Something deep down told me I was in for a treat.
"You look like you lost something..."
"I did," he replied.
His hands shaking, he explained to me that while in a dead sprint to catch the plane, his wallet must have fallen out of his back pocket.
"I am coming to Istanbul. Not a penny to my name. And it is very late at night."
I shrugged and told him he was welcome to ride along in a taxi with me to the Koc University campus. A wave of relief splashed over his face and he smiled. He introduced himself as Paul and explained he was a Byzantine archaeologist flying in for a business trip. With little trouble, we landed, got our visas stamped, picked up the bags and were off. We flagged the cabbie and Paul informed me he was able to negotiate a low price for the ride up to Sariyer, the town in which my school resides. As we zipped about the narrow European roads, Paul did his best to answer my myriad questions about Turkish culture. He mentioned that within two minutes of being in the cab, the driver had asked him (in Turkish of course)- "What the hell do you feed that boy to make him so tall?!" Around this time he revealed his two favorite rules about Turkey- "1) There are no rules and 2) There are no rules!"
I bid Paul farewell as we dropped him at his hotel and he made arrangements to reimburse me the 40 Lira for the ride. As the cab sped off and nearly took out a 93 year old bag of bones in the process, I realized it was just the cabbie and I for the next 30 minutes.
I took in the views. The serenely lit mosques, the Bosphorus shimmering in the moonlight. The harsh scent of sulfur mixed with scents I have never before experienced. I thought about making small talk with the cabbie but soon realized that for the first time in my life, I faced a communication barrier that proved insurmountable. I knew not a lick of Turkish and he, not a hint of English. The silence engulfed us.
We finally arrived at the university at 2:30 am. Having commuted for 23 straight hours and eaten little, I began to regret that final complimentary whisky, courtesy of British air. We got through the main entrance and made our way past the dorm buildings. Having no idea where to go, the cabbie and I pulled into a frighteningly vacant lot and he began to honk his horn, searching desperately for any evidence of life. When he began to scream Turkish out his window into the pitch black night, I knew it was time to make a phone call. Finally, around 3:15 am, a heavy set, overly courteous Turk made his way toward the taxi, unloaded my bags and checked me in for the night. Knowing full well that orientation began in 5 hours, I did my best to settle down and get some sleep despite my body's reluctance. As the blackness took hold, feelings of displacement and anxiety retreated and a rush of excitement came forth. Something deep down told me I was in for a treat.
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