Semester in Musical Review

I tend to make playlists that trigger memories from the semester. Good tunes that I really dug at that time in my life, songs that were popular, tied to inside jokes, songs that friends sang frequently or simply played in every club.

Here's what made the cut. Understandably, some of them are foreign:

Easy Star All-Stars - Karma Police

Mika - We Are Golden

Bob Dylan - The Hurricane

Shantel - Disko Boy

David Guetta - Gettin' Over

John Denver - Take Me Home Country Roads

Andrew Bird - Imitosis

Duman - Bu Akşam

David Guetta - Memories

Tarkan - Kuzu Kuzu

Kings of Leon - Sex on Fire

Ferdi Özbeğen - Zingarella

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance

Shantel - Disko Partizani

Jay-Z ft. Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind

Ted Leo + Pharmacists - Bottled in Cork

I think this is the end of the blog. The adventure is over. Perhaps the site will be revived for my next adventure.

Priests and Nuns Do Normal People Things

As many of my friends know, I find it hilarious when members of religious orders do normal people things. I can't restrain from laughing when I see a priest in a grocery store or nuns having coffee in a café. I will not recount it here, but when I get home, ask me about the little old nun at Kylemore Abbey in Connamara. It's a pretty good one. Trust me.

Thoughts on Belfast

I've now been in Belfast for four days. Here are my impressions so far. It's smaller than I expected. I don't mean population wise. I mean geographically. The neighborhoods of Sandy Row (Protestant), The Falls (Catholic), and Shankill (Protestant) are so close together, and not far off the main roads. I took a wrong turn on my first day here when searching for an electronics store and ended up walking through Sandy Row.

Culture Shock

Despite my initial doubts, I now know that culture shock exists.

This list will be added to as time goes on:

1. Everyone speaks English.

2. Police are not a very common sight.

3. Police do not carry automatic weapons.

4. The military isn't all over the city.

5. I can eavesdrop without even thinking about it.

6. I can ask anyone for directions and understand what they tell me.

7. I can blend in.

8. There is no call to prayer, as such I never know what time it is.

9. Exchange offices have huge spreads and charge ridiculous amounts for commission.

10. There are no military vehicles with turrets going down the street.

11. Nobody honks.

12. Everyone else can eavesdrop on me.

13. Clicking at people is NOT a normal way to say "no."

14. No one pronounces döner or kebap correctly.

15. I can't use my akbil to pay for the bus.

Stambul, seni seviyorum ama görüşürüz

(Translation: Istanbul, I love you but see ya later)

Things I will miss about Istanbul:

1. The breeze that comes off the Boğaz (Bosphorus)

2. My friends

3. Random adventures, even if they don't turn out so well (ahem, city walls)

4. Istiklal Caddesi and its many sidestreets

5. Walking arm in arm along above mentioned streets

6. Functioning public transportation

7. Counting ships that pass thru the Boğaz

8. Çay

9. Simit

10. Peynirli sigara böreği

11. Islak hamburgers

12. Dürümzade

13. Dondurmacıs who play tricks on people

14. Efes Pilsen (I will buy a 12 pack if I ever find it in Spec's)

15. Stray animals, especially having cats in the classroom

16. Amusing translations into English (I have seen #9 translated as cigarette pastry with cheese)

17. Breakfast menus that just list "breakfast" and a price

18. Fresh squeezed orange juice

19. Fruits and veggies from the Rumeli hisarüstü pazar

20. Kissing on both cheeks as a greeting

21. The guys who try to convince drunks that a bunny can tell their fortune

22. Feeling no guilt about laying on the south campus lawn all day

23. Drinking beers on south campus overlooking the Bosphorus

24. Friends dancing around trees to traditional songs

25. Students with accordions and fiddles who play traditional Turkish songs as well as "Oh, Susana (Don't You Cry for Me)" by the economics building in the middle of the night

26. Turkish waffles (covered in nutella, fresh fruit, nuts, folded in half and eaten like a sandwich)

27. Classes with 15 minute breaks every hour because both the prof and the students need çay and a cigarette.

28. The following as common snacks: grilled corn, dried apricots, roasted chestnuts, almonds, chickpeas, pumpkin seeds, white grape raisins

29. Araf, Jazz Stop, Babylon, 360, Machine, The Secret Garden

30. Beyti Sarma at Urfam

31. Finding portraits, busts and statues of Mustafa Kemal Atutürk ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE

32. Watching the sunrise over the Bosphorus from south campus

Things I will not miss about Istanbul:

1. Creepers on the metro who stand too close to me

2. People who don't wear deodorant

3. Having to keep buying more and more kontör for my phone

4. The way a crowded bus smells in the summer

5. Random places not having A/C

6. Shopkeepers in Ottoman Disneyworld (Sultanahmet/Grand Bazaar/Spice Bazaar)

7. #6 cont'd: "Lady, you dropped something... my heart."

8. #6 cont'd: "Please, let me help you spend your money"

9. #6 cont'd: "You so beautiful. For you, everything in my shop free."

10. Guys in a club who can't take a hint

11. The general lack of limes

12. Lemons with tequila shots

13. People, places and class operating on "Turkish time" (x1.5)

14. Sweatpants as a fashion statement

15. Having to buy bottled water

16. Guys who don't understand that I don't want to go into their club

17. Paving stones that aren't mortared into the ground and splash me

18. Guys who think it looks good to spike the hair on the crown of their heads and push everything else forward, while leaving a mullet in the back.

19. The moment of panic: "We're on a bridge. Why are we on a bridge?"

More will be added to these lists before the night is through.

Balkan Adventure

Back in May I got a message from my buddy Kevin saying he’d be in the Balkans in late June. After a little bit of rearranging my flights to Belfast and back to America, I agreed to meet him in the resort town of Budva, Montenegro for a few days and booked a hostel. That’s about where the plans that worked ended.

Thursday afternoon I left Deniz’s apartment with what I thought would be enough time to get down to Taksim Square and catch the Havaş bus to the airport. Much to my dismay, I missed the bus that would have put me in the airport on time. I said goodbye to Deniz (continuing what seemed to have been a full week of saying goodbye to friends), and waited for the next bus. I totally forgot about rush hour traffic and ended up getting to the airport with only an hr before takeoff. It was at this moment when my plans began to unravel. The people at the check-in counter said that my name wasn’t on the list. I later confirmed that my card was never charged for the plane ticket I bought, despite the fact that I got a confirmation email. So I went over to the ticket office, bought a last minute ticket, checked my bag, rushed thru security and got on the plane with a little bit of time to spare (though not enough to pick up some duty free goodies for the weekend).

My flight transfer was in Belgrade, which is where I discovered that my return flight was booked 5 days after I had asked (and 3 days after I was supposed to be in Belfast). Ended up getting that worked out tho. Met up with the only other Anglophones on the flight from Belgrade to Podgorica, who happened to be from Tasmania. They were staying in the same place as me so I just kinda tagged along with them for about 24 hrs.

Podgorica, though it’s the capital of Montenegro, isn’t much to see. People are generally nice tho, and it’s quite cheap despite the euro. Anyway, I wandered around with the Tazzies in the morning and then hopped on a bus to Budva after watching yet another World Cup match. In case anyone was wondering, Montenegrins root for Serbia.

Got down to Budva in about an hr and a half, took a taxi to the old town and then wandered around asking shop keepers where my hostel was. The owner of the local Irish pub, a nice fellow from County Kildare, helped me find it. Felt like a nice little transition in my travels. I had forgotten how calming the Irish accent can be when you’re really stressed. As it was kind of late in the afternoon, I went inside the hostel, chatted with the other travelers and just kind of chilled out. This was the theme of the weekend more or less. Went out with the hostel crowd that night. Had a pretty good time, though I discovered that Budva is a hub for Russian tourists, who incidentally do not dance very well. And love the bad techno that plays at the clubs we usually shun in Istanbul.

Spent the next day wandering around trying to find the good beaches. In the afternoon, some Swedish girls showed up and said they knew where the best one was, so we went down this tiny little path around a rockface, which after a few minutes’ walk reveals a beach and bar next to a cliff. Went swimming and tanned for several hours. Came back with this odd feeling that Kevin was in town. The guy at the front desk said he was supposed to be in at 5. I got back around 4:45 and figured I probably had time to shower. Got out of the shower and there was Kevin sitting on his bunk just as relieved to see me as I was to see him. Apparently he had been wandering around trying to find the hostel for hours.

We spent the rest of the weekend catching up, laying on the beach, and dealing with the fiasco of doing laundry (long story that’s not really worth telling). It was an absolutely fantastic weekend. Incredibly relaxing. I think it’s just the transition I needed between Istanbul and Belfast. No one really hassles you in Budva. The streets aren’t swarming with people. There’s a club scene but it’s pretty tame compared to the intensity of Istanbul clubbing. Unfortunately, there’s a general lack of healthy food and cheap fruits and veggies.

My way back was also a bit of a hassle. I got my flight rearranged the correct way without having to pay a fee, thankfully. Woke up at 4:40am this morning and packed up my still semi-damp clothes. They were hanging up in the floor below me, where no one had been sleeping all weekend. Of course, I flipped the light on to look for my clothes and there were people sleeping in there. Pretty sure I forgot a pair of socks when I gathered up my laundry in the dark. I said goodbye to Kevin, who was still asleep. Didn’t have the heart to wake him up. Took a taxi over to the bus station, hopped on the 5:55am bus to Podgorica, where I caught another taxi to the airport and hopped on my flight.

I once again had a connection in Belgrade, which proved to be quite frustrating. Somehow travel between Turkey and the Balkans is just disastrous for me (see earlier post on Plovdiv, Bulgaria). So I get to the international terminal around 10am local time, haven’t had anything to eat all day. All I wanted was a cup of coffee and maybe a muffin. I go over to the café and they say they don’t take euros. Only Serbian dinara. I say to myself, that’s kinda strange for an international terminal, but alright I’ll just find an exchange office. Problem: there isn’t one. No exchange office. No ATM. That wasn’t gonna work for me because I had a 7 hr layover. So I go over to information and a guy about my age who looks like he hates his job says “yeah, this airport sucks. You have to go downstairs, legally enter the country, then you can exchange money. There’s free internet and cafés in the departure area.” Thus, I legally entered Serbia just to get a cup of coffee.

Anyway, now I’m on the plane back to Istanbul. I have no idea who is still there. A lot of people have left on holiday or have returned to their hometowns for the summer. The rest are probably working. I’ve got a few things that I’d like to do in my final full day there, including pick up Ryan’s birthday present as tomorrow, June 23^rd, is his 23^rd birthday.

I’m leaving Istanbul permanently early Thursday morning. I think my little Balkan adventure has prepared me to say goodbye. I made sure to say goodbye to my close friends before I went to Montenegro, so I don’t think I’ll have to put myself through that emotional mess again unless some of them are in town and want to live it up in Taksim one last time with me. I’ll be sad to leave, but all good things must come to an end. I’m sure I’ll return to the city again at some point. It might be just after I graduate or it might be in ten years, but regardless I’m not going to say goodbye to it forever on Thursday. It’s an extended, yet temporary, leave of absence.

Tamam. Hamam.

During spring break I made a list of everything I wanted to do before I left Istanbul and could feasibly do. Of the 13 tasks on this list, I have now completed 5. I have plans to complete the rest in the next few weeks.

So yesterday was girls day at the hamam (Turkish bath). When we walked in we were all sort of a little timid and confused about what we were supposed to do and where we were supposed to go. The woman unlocked a cabin door and gave us linens roughly the size of towels. Some of the girls were confused as to how much clothing we were supposed to take off. I just kinda said "what the hell" and got naked. We wrapped ourselves in the linen and the woman led us into the main part of the hamam. It's really hot and steamy in there, so first you sit on the marble and douse yourself in water while chatting and adjusting to the idea of everyone walking around naked.

There's essentially two parts to the hamam experience: the scrubbing and the soap massage. The scrubbing kinda hurts, but kinda feels nice. You lay on the marble while this big woman scrapes a few layers of dead skin off of your whole body. This is where my tan from laying on the campus lawn went bye-bye. You go back to the little sink seating area and rinse the dead skin off. Sit down and chat for a while longer. Then when it's your turn, you go back to the middle and get soaped and massaged. Once again nice and relaxing but somewhat painful. They fill a soft pillow case with suds and then lather you with it. The massage was wonderful, except for a few spots where I was still kinda sore from a few days ago. Then back to the other area, rinse, shampoo/scented hair oil, chill for a while, towel and back to the cabin.

By the end of it, sitting around completely naked seemed totally normal. It's really funny how quickly we all became comfortable with it. In the span of about 2 hours we went from shy and confused to sitting around naked in what felt like a sauna talking about our love lives and making jokes. It was a really wonderful, relaxing experience. I don't know why I didn't do that sooner.

I haven't been sleeping very well for the last month or so except for one or two nights, but last night was the best sleep I've had in a long time. One more task off of the to-do list. So glad I didn't leave without going to the hamam.

What's still on the list: (some of this is kind of embarrassing)

Go inside the Blue Mosque

Harem of Topkapi Palace

Eyüp

Izmir

Ephesus

Trinket shopping in the Grand Bazaar

Büyükada (Princes' Islands)

One more trip to the Asian side of Istanbul

Sadly, because I'm taking a few more side trips I've only got 14 days left in Istanbul. Three of those days involve taking final exams. I'm going to make the most of my time left here. I sincerely hope that at least 7 of the other 11 days involve nights out in Taksim. I have to say farewell to Istiklal Caddesi. I really don't want to leave and am still sort of in denial of the fact that I am going to have to leave sooner than later. I know my friends and family want me home, but I really have no desire to return to America at the moment. I am having a hard time even thinking about the fact that I'm going to be in Ireland for three weeks, and that part of that time will be spent doing academic research. Every time that I've left Turkey I've had problems with culture-shock. I can't even imagine what that'll be like when I leave for good.

Go Time

I actually find this kind of funny. I'm sitting in my room on a beautiful sunny day. The window's cracked open. It opens like a door. I can hear kids playing soccer yelling "burada! burada!" trying to get their friends to pass the ball. Wearing cutoff shorts, a tank top, my Red Sox hat, noise cancelling headphones around my neck. Feeling oddly American. Staring at the introduction of a 10 page paper, referring to my outline every once in a while, munching on tortilla and hummus with a cup of çay. Let's hope I stop getting distracted.

Today's caffeine count (21:30):

2 Nescafé

5 Çay

Sleep: Improbable

Final caffeine count (0:30):

2 Nescafé

7 Çay

Sleep: 02:30. 5 pages written. Not bad.

Anarchy in Athens

As time has gone on I have apparently gotten worse and worse about updating this blog, but thats because I've been living my life rather than writing about it. I took a long weekend in Athens a few days ago. Negotiating the vacation was a bit rocky, but it turned out for the best. Met up with some friends who flew in from Edinburgh and thankfully did not get stranded by the ash cloud. Metro was on strike when I got there. Split a cab with two Brits to the city center to cut costs. I always feel like I have to entertain when I carpool.

Got to the hostel. Met up with Courtney and Lilly. I had been complaining about how much we were paying for the hostel till I got there. 6th story suite with a kitchenette, 2 showers, 2 bathrooms and a huge balcony looking out over the whole city and the Acropolis. Checked into the room, got a gyro #1 (with PORK! OMG PORK!) so delicious. Beginning of the culinary adventure of "What came first, the Greek dish or the Turkish dish?" (answer: they all have Ottoman origins so leave nationalism out of my dinner). As a side note, there is no difference between the "Greek" Yogurt Kebab and Iskender Kebap. It's just Iskender. Also, why do the Greeks translate börek as "cheese pie" and "spinach pie"? They're totally missing the potato variation, but that's beside the point. Greek simit (circular sesame bread) is actually a little bit better than the Turkish simit. The Greek version is softer and doesn't have the hard, crunchy pretzel texture that Turkish simit does. Anyway, I greatly enjoyed Greek food and liked confusing people by using the Turkish names (I don't know any of the Greek names besides gyro and tzatziki, also known as döner and cacık.)

Wandered around town, went to what we thought was just a park but was actually where the ancient Greeks thought the Muses lived. Saw the "Prison of Socrates." Took goofy pictures in front of the Acropolis. Wandered back down the hill a few hours later. Got some dinner. Picked up some wine. Sat on our balcony chatting and looking out at the Acropolis in a huge thunderstorm.

Day 2 we went to the Acropolis. I had left the balcony door open to let in fresh air during the night but sincerely regretted that when the church bells started up in the morning. I really forgot how annoying they are. At least the call to prayer is only 5 times a day and beautifully sung rather than bells going off every hour (and half hour in some cases). Acropolis was swarming with people but cool nonetheless. Unfortunately large parts of it are being repaired at the moment. Took the sort of the rocky/adventurous route down. Rewarded ourselves with some ice cream (it was at this point that I realized I missed Turkish dondurma).

Took the metro over to another part of town, went to the Archaeological Museum. I got to play tour guide in the pre-historic section b/c I've been studying the Grave Circles and Mycenaeans this semester. Pretty cool stuff. Exhausted. Went home, showered, passed out for a few hours.

Got up in time for dinner and meeting up with Demi, Lilly's friend from Athens. Thankfully I had a cup of coffee between dinner and going out because it turned out to be a pretty late night. Demi took us to some bars around Monastiraki where we were staying for a night of Greek drinks.

Drink #1: I can't recall the name, but it's a hot liquor with a slice of lemon and a cinnamon stick floating in it. Goes down smooth. Drink it from shot glass sized glasses shaped like mini-beer mugs. Learned the Greek toasting. Clink glasses, touch your glass to the table to honor the dead, then drink.

While we were sitting at this outdoor bar, a fireblower came by. He wasn't looking for tips. He was just really wanted to blow giant fireballs in the middle of the street. Talked to him later. Apparently he's Welsh. Us four girls discussed our strategy/plan for the night. Demi wanted to show us the anarchist quarter, which sounded interesting, so we finished our drinks and followed her past Omonia to the region where cops stand guard but seldom enter.

Demi works at a Cretan bar in the anarchist quarter so we went over there for a while. By a while I mean that it was probably several hours. Bars in Athens are kind of like most bars in Istanbul. There's a bar, but most people are sitting at tables outside in the street. I like it that way. Its really chill. Her boss treated us to raki (which tastes nothing like Turkish rakı), snails in hot olive oil and rosemary, and a few other Cretan drinks and dishes. All of them were delicious. Especially the snails. After a few rounds, Demi said it was late enough to go over to the club so we followed her over to a rock bar that's apparently well known in Athens. Had a lot of fun, did a lot of dancing, etc. None of us realized how late it was until we finally decided to leave and the sun was already up. Oops. Went back to the hostel. Slept till noon.

Our last full day in Athens was supposed to be a beach day from 9am-sunset. Needless to say, that didn't happen. It was around 3pm by the time we finally got to the beach (waking up, showering, eating a gyro and finding the bus to the beach really does take that long). I am pretty sure we got off the bus too early b/c the beaches were gross. Like worse than Galveston gross. Garbage everywhere. Broken glass. It was overcast. We tried to go further down taking the tram only to find out that it turned away from the coast about a block after we got on so we had to get off and walk back to the dirty beach. Guys were walking by trying to sell us stuff while we were tanning. The whole misadventure was pretty funny tho. On our way home we were talking about dinner. Decided that seafood was in order. I spotted a taverna near our hostel while we were trinket shopping. Went back there for an amazing meal: tzatziki, bread, fried zucchini balls (breaded mixture of cheese and zucchini), swordfish, veggies.

We had picked up wine, cheese and chocolate on our way back from the beach. Decided to make an evening of that on the balcony. Delicious. Also had some fresh fruit left over from the day before when we bought 1.2 kilos of strawberries and cherries. Mmmmm.

Sunday was our last day in Athens. Got up early to clean up the room, pack, and check out of the hostel. Grabbed some coffee and a börek (or cheese pie if you like that name better). Went for a wandering walk trying to find the anarchist quarter again because I wanted to check out what the graffiti looked like there in daylight.

Came back around noon, took the metro to the airport, waited around for a few hours doing schoolwork before my flight and then headed back to Istanbul. In all it was really a perfect weekend.

Revision

I rescind my former statements about Turkish culture being less physical than Texas culture. While there are some greetings that are more polite, there are many others that rival Texas physicality. I cite the numerous groups of friends wrestling on the lawn of South Campus last night during the concert. Wow. Just wow.

Evenings along the Bosphorus

The long-awaited spring break in India post is being postponed. I haven't figured out how to put that into words yet. I think that may be something that's better told in person or simply through photographs. I will say that while I had a good time, I am definitely glad to be back in Istanbul which is the subject of today's post.

I came back from break with two papers and a midterm looming ahead of me. The night before the last paper was due (ie Thursday night), Brent, Deniz and I were in the library attempting to churn out five pages of a halfway decent book review. The problem is, the subject of the book in question, Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul, makes it very difficult to focus on writing when there's so much city to explore. Around 8 o'clock, with me 3 pages into the paper and Deniz 100 pages away from finishing the book, we decided to bounce.

I was just getting over a bout of food poisoning that had kept me on a pretty limited diet since coming back from India, so I was really excited about getting dinner. I stayed completely vegetarian in India so it had been about two weeks since I had eaten meat. Never going veg again. We walked from the library on North Campus over to South Campus and took the winding route down the forested road to Bebek. We walked along the Bosphorus to the best burger joint in Istanbul talking about spring break and summer and life in the city in general. Dükkan Burger was delicious as always. We shared a cultural moment of what to put on fries. Everyone here uses mayo. Gross.

Went over to the Bebek Starbucks afterwards to sit on the back patio sipping coffee and looking out at the ships going by. It was about at this point when I realized how much I loved this city. There’s a particular smell that this city has in May, and June as well according to Deniz, that makes it seem so peaceful. The trees are in bloom. The tulips are in bloom. There’s a cool breeze coming off of the Bosphorus giving the air a crisp freshness. Reminds me a little of Cape Cod in August.

After giving up on the idea of getting any work done at the Starbucks, we took the winding road back up to campus. Near the top of the hill there's a lookout point with some benches. It's usually littered with bottle caps and cigarette butts. I now understand why. Students sit there and watch the ships go by, chatting with friends and having a drink. We stopped and relaxed for a bit and both realized that though we were going to be hard-pressed to finish our papers before class the next day, our souls had really needed an evening with the Bosphorus.

The Physicality of Texas Greetings

Turkish Greeting: 1 kiss on each cheek (or rather touching cheek to cheek)

Texas Greeting: bearhug

Turkish sign of companionship: walking arm in arm

Texas sign of companionship: piggy back ride; surprise cuddle attack; tussle the hair; backhand

Source of my pondering: Hug after an exam. There was a calculus exam going on in a classroom just before my class was supposed to start. One girl finished earlier than her friend and was waiting outside of the classroom. When the friend walked out, they both looked at each other with that "worst exam ever" expression and then embraced each other. This is when I realized how long it'd been since I'd seen two people just hugging.

For as intimate as Turkish greetings are and as delightful as I find it to walk arm in arm down Istiklal Caddesi, they still lack the physicality that distinguishes the greetings I've become accustomed to in Austin. The difference, I think, is that here the interactions between friends feel much more polite. There is an element of raw emotion in holding a friend's body against yours that seems to be lost in touching cheek to cheek. When I think about the kind of hugs that Key gives (bearhug with a lift, a twirl, sometimes a toss onto the nearest piece of furniture) there's nothing polite or formal about it. Sometimes I have to hold on for dear life because it seems like he's going to drop me. All pretensions are stripped away in this moment of embrace. Whole ideas can be communicated in some of these bearhugs that you could never really put into words. Perhaps it's some strange remnant of the Old West rustic bawdiness and small vocabularies. Who knows? Regardless, it's something that I feel is missing in my life right now.

Same distinction goes for dancing. I think the system here is a bit better. Guy and a girl dance together, but really more of across from each other and very seldom come in contact. There's a bubble of personal space like the "room for Jesus" the Catholic schools used to lecture us about. To me, it's more like dancing in front of someone rather than dancing with someone. No arms around each other even during slow-dances unless you're either goofing off to a cheesy song or seriously involved with the person. At least this is as much as I've been able to observe. When Flo Rider's "Low" came on the other night I slipped back into American mode for a half a chorus. I quickly corrected myself. In Austin, it would have been just two friends dancing. No big deal. Here, I could sort of tell that it wasn't the case. Perhaps it's part of the politeness. Perhaps it's something else.

Shoes

I was on campus today talking to a friend and waiting for some photocopies to be done when a very peculiar thing happened. A girl I'd never met came up to me and asked about my shoes.

"Hi. Where are you from?"

"Texas"

"But your shoes are from Argentina. Where did you get them?"

"Uh... I bought them in Austin"

"They're not from Argentina?"

"Might be based on an Argentine design, but they're definitely from the states. I think the company's based in California. You can find them online. They're called TOMS."

"Oh okay, thank you. I'll look for them."

I had noticed that no one wore TOMS over here, which wasn't that surprising as I got here in winter. However, now that it's springtime, I thought I might see a few pairs at least since they're so popular among college students in the states and a lot of the fashion here follows American fashion (Abercrombie & Fitch, GAP, etc.). Apparently TOMS haven't made it to Istanbul yet. I've seen one other person wearing them, but she was also an exchange student.

Converses are still the shoe of choice here. Asics are probably a close second as far as daily shoes go. I had debated about bringing my Converses but thought they'd be impractical over here. Not so at all. I ended up buying Turkish-made knockoffs of Converses anyway and wear them most days. They're gray and cheap, but as long as you don't look at the back label, you can't tell they're not chucks.

You might be wondering why nicer shoes, like heels, aren't as popular. I can think of one reason off the top of my head: pavement. The sidewalks here are brick mostly, and about a foot above the road. I think the height of the curb is to discourage drivers from parking with half the car on the sidewalk. I have become quite adept at hopping on and off of the sidewalks to get around people who are walking slower or to simply get out of their way. It's difficult to do if you're in anything with a heel. I know that when I was wearing my boots, which have a slight heel, walking on these uneven sidewalks was a real pain. I went out in them one night and swore to never do it again. I haven't quite figured out why ballet flats aren't as common here. People wear them, they're sold everywhere, and they can be pretty cheap if you know where to go, but they aren't nearly as common as in Austin.

It's one thing that I have yet to understand: students dress well to go to class here, but still wear very casual shoes. It's the exact opposite of the case in the states: casual clothes and nice shoes (here I cite the sorority uniform of Sperries, Nike shorts, Ray-Bans, and a highlighter yellow greek t-shirt). Who knows, perhaps I'll start a TOMS trend over here.

I enjoy long walks along the water... and eavesdropping

I should be writing a paper right now, but as has become my habit here I am procrastinating. It's only two pages. I can do that in no time... Now, on to my main topic: spring.

I've never really understood how wonderful seasons are until now. That seems really strange, but it's true. Winter honestly doesn't exist in Texas. Spring is 1-2 weeks before the six-month summer and is only renowned for horrible allergies. Fall is just wet. Here, however, spring is a time when class attendance drops, tulips bloom, people go for long walks along the water or lay in the grass smoking, playing tavla and talking about how they should be going to class. It's a beautiful thing.

A stray dog sleeping in his doghouse in Bebek

I myself became caught up in this springtime celebration today, and have the sunburn to prove it. Yes, it's barely April and I have a sunburn. I know, I'm pale. It happens. After class I dropped off my books, grabbed my ipod and went for a stroll down in Bebek. Well, I started out in Bebek, ended up almost in Ortaköy which is a pretty long ways away. Bebek is a really rich area of town so people watching is very interesting there. There were lots of young moms taking their children out to the playgrounds, old women taking their afternoon walk in jogging clothes, and young businessmen walking along the water in designer suits.

This is where I digress for a moment. Some of the conversations I overheard made me think about language for a little while and the way that bilingual sectors of society communicate. One of my professors jokes about Boğaziçi Turkish, in which students at Boğaziçi Üniversitesi randomly insert English words into Turkish sentences. Sometimes these English words are shortened, which makes slightly less sense. For instance, "facebook" can become "face" in Boğaziçi Turkish. This should not be confused with Boğaziçi English, in which you do not "throw a party" or "have a party." You "make a party." To these two, I would like to add Bebek English, in which Turkish words are randomly inserted into English sentences. For instance, I overheard someone say "çünkü it's just going to get stolen again." When I was closer to Ortaköy, a businessman answered his iPhone "Efendim? Yes, how can I help you?.... Ne? They did what? Hayır. No. No that's not good." I give these examples not as a criticism of anyone's grasp of a language. I think of no less of anyone for wanting to make a party. I just find the mixture of languages interesting. If the person you're talking to speaks both languages, I suppose it does make sense to switch back and forth.

tavla = backgammon

çünkü = because

efendim = sort of like sir, but used to answer phones as well

ne = what

hayır = no

Music, and the Discovery Thereof

In Austin, I usually rely on friends, live shows and Pandora Radio to discover new music. The first two hold true here quite wonderfully [For all Radiohead-loving Austinites, check out the cover of “Karma Police” by Easy Star All-Stars ft. Citizen Cope. (courtesy of Deniz)], however Pandora doesn’t work in Turkey. When I try to access the site, I get a message that says it’s restricted to the US and they believe from my IP address that I’m in Turkey, so no go. However, grooveshark works here. Problem is grooveshark doesn’t make suggestions. I’ve gotta know the name of the band I’m looking for. Kind of hinders the whole discovery process.

That being said, I’ve been listening to a lot of really chill music lately. I rediscovered my love of Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Okkervil River and Andrew Bird. I’ve had “Golden” by My Morning Jacket stuck in my head for a while and I really want to learn how to play it because it’s absolutely beautiful, but that leads to more complications. I’ve been borrowing a guitar every so often from a friend, but it’s really difficult to catch him at home. It’s a beautiful Spanish guitar. If I knew how to restring Spanish guitars, I’d clean it up a bit for him. It’d really give the guitar a crisper sound I think. Maybe he likes keeping it a bit worn tho. I know some people who get so used to the same strings that changing them can be kind of traumatic. Sometimes you buy the wrong brand and the guitar just never sounds the way you want it to anymore. Even if I catch him at home tho, "Golden" also requires a capo and he doesn't have one. One of his roommates was joking that he'd keep his finger on the 4th fret for me in lieu of a capo. I'm not so sure that'd work tho.

I’m kind of kicking myself over the whole capo issue. I was about to toss mine in my bag before I left Houston, but of course I over thought it, figuring that anyone I could borrow a guitar from would have one. No such luck. The only reason I ended up bringing a pick here is because I didn’t realize it was in my jeans pocket when I got on the plane. Amazingly, it’s an Austin Metro pick that they gave out at Austin City Limits a few years ago. I didn’t realize till I got here how reliant I am on capos. A lot of the songs I like to play are in a key too low for my voice, so I use the capo to make the song suit my vocal range. When I think about it, the fact that my main usage of the capo is because of my vocal range, kind of explains why it's not as common for guys to use capos. Maybe not tho. Other songs, like "Atlantic City" simply require a capo on the 4th fret. I could transcribe the chords to make them work on an open fretboard, but that just leads to really awkward chord transitions. It's easier on the fretting fingers if there's a capo involved.

There are a bunch of music shops between where İstiklal Caddesi ends and the Galata Tower so I think I’m going to head down there tomorrow and pick one up after class. I'm going for real this time, unlike the last two weeks that I've been telling myself I'd do this. Hopefully I’ll be able to borrow the guitar again soon. I really want to take it out over to campus this weekend. There’s a spot with some benches that overlooks the Bosphorus where I usually eat my lunch and I think it’d be a really amazing experience to sit there passing the guitar around and watching the boats go by. One friend also suggested, perhaps jokingly, that we take the guitar out to a grassy park with a bottle of wine. It's finally warm enough for this to be possible. I think this is something that's too tempting to resist.

On Caffeine

It's no secret that I have a pretty substantial caffeine addiction. Stateside that means black coffee. Here, that means çay. Çay (Turkish tea) is everywhere here. It's cheap, it's free after most meals, it's good and you always drink it with sugar and not milk. I drink about 3-4 cups of çay a day. Nonetheless, I occasionally get a craving for a cup of coffee. This is where I become conflicted. I can go to the Dunkin' Donuts on campus and get a regular drip coffee, but I don't really like their coffee. Beggars can't be choosers tho, right? Still, Dunkin' always gives you coffee with milk. It ends up being half coffee, half milk. In other words, not coffee.

What about Turkish coffee you may ask... Don't get me wrong, I like Türk kahvesi, however it's similar to espresso in my book. It's a treat, not an everyday drink.

That leaves me with one option: Nescafe. I've attempted to make myself like Nescafe several times. Fail on all accounts. It tastes like burnt Folger's. As I write this, I am drinking a cup of Nescafe Gold (supposedly better than standard Nescafe). I think I'm going to stick to çay from now on.

The Black Sea

I skipped class on Friday and headed for the coast with some friends. Kind of an odd group: 3 Americans and 2 Belgians. We had a great time tho. Caught the bus on time and got into Safranbolu right around dinnertime. Safranbolu is about 90 km from the Black Sea, roughly 6 hours away from Istanbul. It's a big spot for domestic tourism because it's sort of off the beaten path and has some great examples of Ottoman architecture. We stayed in an old Ottoman home converted into a pension. Had a good home-cooked meal for dinner. Soup and veggies and some excellent köfte. I didn't realize how long it had been since I had a home-cooked meal.

Checking into the place was an interesting experience. I haven't gotten much flack for my last name so far, so this was the first time. He saw my name and said "but what does it mean?" and I know that way back when it probably has something to do with a crusader, so I told him "I don't know." He asked again and I simply told him it had nothing to do with the country and that my family's Irish. He stopped asking so I guess that worked.

After dinner we bundled up and wandered around town. It was incredibly quiet and deserted for a Friday night. We were joking that it's the polar opposite of what would be going on if we were in Istanbul. Istiklal Caddesi was probably a sea of people as it always is. But we wandered down the empty streets looking for a place to have çay or nargile or a beer. We ended up finding what looked like the only bar in Old Safranbolu. As such, they had a monopoly on prices and we ended up paying more for tiny beers than we did for our whole dinner. The music was interesting, but loud. It was relatively late so we wandered back to the pension.

In the morning we had a Turkish breakfast. Mind you, breakfast menus do not exist here. The menu just says kahvaltı (breakfast) which usually involves a hard boiled egg, olives, cucumbers, tomatoes, bread, honey, sheep or goat cheese, çay (Turkish tea) and a slice of sausage (probably beef or lamb). We wandered around town and saw a few of the Ottoman houses. We bought some produce and trinkets in the market and then climbed up one of the hills to get a view of the town. It was really a relaxing pace.

Around 13:00 we decided to head to Amasra, which is located right on the Black Sea. Joshua really wanted to hitchhike, but that's difficult with 5 people. Marine and I took the bus and the others hitched. They ended up catching a ride from an Ankara lawyer and his wife who were headed straight to Amasra. Needless to say, they got there before we did. They wandered around the streets looking for a cheap place to stay. As they wandered down a street full of trinket shops, a woman stuck her head out of a window and the conversation went something like this:

"Otel?" (Hotel)

"Evet. Ne kadar?" (Yeah, how much?)

"On beş lira" (15 Lira)

"On beş! Tamam!" (15 Lira! Ok!)

So it wasn't really a hotel. It was really just another floor in the building with 3 twin beds and a queen in a big room with a strange open-flame propane powered space heater. The walls were mildewy and the beds were lumpy, but it was half the price of every other place in town. A lot of the hotels weren't even open because it's not really tourist season. It's too cold still to go swimming, so they don't open until April. It was nice tho. We had a çay and watched the sunset. These kids were playing soccer right by the bay for a while and then started this game where two would link shoulders like in a rugby scrum, then the others would do leap frog and land on their backs. The two kids would end up supporting about 4 or 5 guys on their backs before the whole thing collapsed. Went out to dinner, wandered around for a while looking for the same things as on Friday night. In the end we decided to pick up some wine and sit around our open-flame space heater.

Amasra itself is smaller than UT's campus, but it has two bays. One faces east, the other faces west. We had planned to watch the sunrise from the big bay facing east, but we overslept. In the morning we found a little çay bahçesi (tea garden) to have breakfast at. We sat outside and enjoyed the sunlight. It was warm and there was a nice breeze coming off of the sea. We didn't even realize how long we had been sitting there (my watch died so I have an excuse). After breakfast, we casually wandered into town, found the bus company, bought our tickets back to Istanbul and then wandered out to stare at the water for about two hours. On the side of the big bay there's a huge pier that juts out in to the water. On the other side of this, there are some rocks that get covered up at high tide. We wandered out onto the rocks, Esma and Brent explored the cave (totally reminiscent of HP6), and we just sat there chilling for a while. It was truly beautiful. I got a lot of thinking done. I had never really believed everyone who said the sea takes a lot off your mind, but it really does.

(Photo courtesy of Esma)

It was an incredibly relaxing weekend, but I didn't take any homework with me, so now I'm kind of behind. Meh. It's springtime in Istanbul now so I'm really lacking the motivation to go into the library and get work done. It's so much more enjoyable to lay on the lawn in South Campus and nap/read/play backgammon.

Kapadokya

I'm really not feeling like writing a whole lot. I went on a trip with a large group to Kapadokya, which is a region in central Anatolia with very oddly shaped rock formations, lots of caves, cave churches and underground cities. It was fun, tho chaotic. I think I would have preferred traveling there with a few friends and doing more trekking and less scheduled activities.

Those two specs at the top of the picture are actually guys from our group. I have no idea how they got all the way up there.

School, Politics, Earthquakes

As it has been requested, here are the classes I'm taking:

Hittite History and Archaeology

Aegean History and Archaeology

History of Modern Turkey

Ottoman History: The Classical Period

Classes are fine. I got most of my course material. They don't follow copyright laws here (I am unsure as to whether they are ignored or if they are simply not on the books) so I have to wait for the prof to drop off the copied and bound material at the copyshop. The classes have a significant amount of reading, though some of it is optional.

Lectures are very chill. Campus is home to about 40 stray dogs and 40-50 stray cats by my personal estimate. They wander in and out of the buildings. The cats spend more time inside than the dogs, mostly because they can jump thru windows and make less noise. It's not uncommon to find one sleeping on a radiator in one of the canteens. One jumped thru the window of the canteen only to find a very pissed off grad student. The cat freaked out and scattered all the grad student's papers all over the floor... I spent most of my Aegean history class today with an orange tabby purring in my lap. It was in the prof's lap for a while, but she got annoyed with double-tasking between lecturing and petting the cat.

I only have class 12 hours a week, with it mostly concentrated on Wednesdays and Fridays, which leaves me ample time for exploring. For example, after my one hour of class today I'm heading to the mall in Sisli to get some new clothes.

I am sick and tired of the one jacket I brought with me, so I'm getting a different one that will blend in better. I stand out enough with my hair color and I'm hoping that if I dress less American the taxi drivers won't honk at me as much. Before I left I expected that people in Turkey would dress more like people in Western Europe, meaning no hoodies, so I didn't bring one. That assumption was completely mistaken. Hoodies keep the rain off your head and don't flip inside out in the wind like an umbrella does. We had good weather here for the end of February, but the cold and rain is back with a vengeance. It's not so bad, I just feel like a real weather brat sometimes from growing up in Texas without seasons.

If you couldn't tell from the other posts, I absolutely love it here. The food is amazing, the people are wonderful and the classes are pretty easy. I've made some great friends from a lot of different countries. Some nights we hang out with the Americans, others we go out to clubs with the Europeans, other nights we stay around campus and go to concerts with Turkish friends, and sometimes I just chill and drink Persian tea with my Irani flatmate.

I've gotten used to the eastern-style toilets. For those of you who haven't traveled as much, an eastern-style toilet is a porcelain hole with two little areas for your feet. There's a spigot with a pitcher on the ground next to it that serves the same purpose as flushing. In all honesty, they make more sense to me than western ones especially when it comes to public bathrooms. I am happy that I have a western-style one in the flat tho.

Other topics of interest:

People have been wondering if the House vote on calling the 1915 event a genocide made the news over here, and I assure you that until Monday's earthquake that was pretty much all the news was covering. It still continues to be a big point of contention. The vote has made it somewhat awkward here. I've been asked about it several times by shopkeepers as well as my Turkish friends. I do not feel threatened or anything like that, people simply want an explanation as to why the vote happened and why America sided the way it did. People here argue that there's a lack of proof that it was intentional. I try to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible. I know that when I am here I act as an unofficial ambassador to the country or whatever, but there are some tight spots that I would rather avoid.

As far as earthquake stuff goes, I was back in Istanbul by the time that quake hit (4am Monday morning) and it was closer to Syrian border so I didn’t feel anything. I was in Cappadocia in central Anatolia this weekend and if I had still been there, I probably would have felt it. Nominally the building I live in is up to code. I do have cracks in my walls and a faultline does run trough Istanbul. That being said, there’s no need to worry. If a quake hits Istanbul, I’m safer in this building than most. Every building in the city is required to staff someone to monitor quake activity. I have no idea if that person actually does anything, but they’re there. I am in one of the more expensive parts of the city near Bebek (most expensive spot on the Turkish Monopoly board). Things are well built. Plus, these things tend to happen in threes. No reason to think there will be a fourth any time soon.

Quotes

"Do you smoke?"

"No, thank you."

"Are you American?"

"Where are you from?"

"Texas."

"But you don't sound like George Bush."

A little trip to Bulgaria

This was probably the most surreal experience of my life thus far. Hopefully in putting this into words the weekend will start to make more sense. I had to leave the country this weekend because of visa stuff, so a friend and I looked into a few spots on wikitravel that were relatively near Istanbul. Greece is on the euro, so we ruled that out until it gets warmer and we can go to the beach. Instead, we decided to go to Bulgaria. Instead of going to Sofia, we went to the second largest city, Plovdiv. It seemed like a great place to go on wikitravel. It's a very ancient city with ruins going back before the time of Alexander the Great. Sounds like a great place for a history nerd, right? Plus, the bus ticket to Plovdiv was cheaper than Sofia.

Of course I had class until 17:00 on Friday so we hit rush hour trying to get down to the bus station in Istanbul. There are 3 evening buses that go to Plovdiv. We got out at the bus station on the Golden Horn and stared around cluelessly. There are easily 50 bus companies operating there. We were looking for a specific one and had no idea what the logo looked like. I went up to an old guy on his smoke break and said "Bulgaristan'a gitmek istiyoruz. Plovdiv'e." He said "Tamam" and indicated for us to follow him. Totally sketchy, right? Just follow the old guy across the parking lot of a massive, poorly-lit bus station at 20:00... Worked out just fine. He led us to the bus company we were looking for, we bought our tickets and grabbed a durum at the bus station cafe. Last decent meal we'd have till we got back to Istanbul, tho we didn't know it at the time.

The bus was nearly empty. We spent a fair amount of time reading and watching the Turkish version of Fear Factor. It all seemed fairly normal until we got to the border crossing. I don't know if it's that we were passing into the EU or that we were leaving Turkey, but that was where the real ridiculous nature of the weekend began. During this whole process, you get on and off the bus for about an hour to an hour and a half. Border crossings seem to be colder than any other part of the country. At some points I was involuntarily shivering. It didn't help that it was about 1am. Between the Turkish passport control area and the Bulgarian passport control there is a duty free shop. I didn't want to have any problems getting in and out of Bulgaria, so I didn't buy anything.

However, there's a restriction on the number of cigarette cartons each person can bring into Bulgaria. Why they don't restrict the number a person can buy at the shop is beyond me because these Turkish women get back on the bus with 5 and 6 cartons. The lady behind me kind of jabs a carton into my shoulder. I am still clueless about the restriction or any of that business at this point, so I think she's offering me cigarettes. I tell her in Turkish that I don't smoke. She says no, no and hands me an extra duty free bag that she pulled out of her purse. Apparently she was prepared for this. Other people are doing this throughout the bus so that everyone has 1-2 cartons of cigarettes. Some of the women are breaking open cartons and shoving packs into various pockets of their sweaters and jackets. We only learned what was actually going on when we talked to a half-Italian half-Sierra Leon guy sitting near us later... wtf.

The bus makes a lot of stops so that the bus driver can smoke and drink more cay (Turkish tea). Some of the stops are 2 minutes, others are 15-20. Hence, a 6 hr bus ride became a 7 1/2 hour bus ride. This put us in Plovdiv around 3:30am. There are two stops in Plovdiv. The first one was in a neighborhood and a lot of the cigarette carton women got off. Brent and I are staring at each other very confused and asking the driver in Turkish if we're at the Plovdiv bus station. He says it's 2 km away and keeps driving. We have no idea at this point where he's going to drop us off at.

Finally, the bus stops next to an overpass at what we later found out actually is the bus station, tho it looked to us like locked, abandoned building with an ATM in front of it. There were 3 cabs parked in front of it, but none of the drivers were in the car. We walked across the block and it was all abandoned. The only thing that looked open was a "nonstop electronic casino" next to the bus station. Brent went inside to see if the cab drivers were in there. Sure enough, that's what was going on. With the word "taksi" one of the big Bulgarian guys comes out smelling distinctly of cigarettes and alcohol, puts our bags in the cab and through a broken conversation in Bulgarian, English and Russian we get to our hostel by 4am.

At 4am a lot of things look sketchy. The entrance to the hostel was definitely in that category. There's a sign over a gate with the hostel's name and graffiti next to it saying "F*** Fashion." We buzzed at the gate and it unlocked about a minute later. Instead of leading to a front door, we were in an unlit cobblestone courtyard. We followed the little path and found the door unlocked. The chick at the door looked like we definitely woke her up and told us where our room was. Neither Brent nor I thought to bring padlocks, so I had booked a private room with two twin beds. Normally, that means you get the nicer room in the hostel and the door locks. In our case, it meant we were in a poorly insulated attic with the window open and a space heater that we thought was an alarm clock. The ceiling was so low that you easily hit your head... but at 4am we just wanted to sleep. This is what it was like in the morning:

After a quick breakfast in the hostel of bread and jam with some luke-warm coffee and a cup of very weak tea, we set off to explore the town. We had a map of part of the town and a general idea that if you turn right you get to the ancient amphitheater and left takes you to the ruins of a fortress. We opted with the fortress first. Essentially we wandered around for a few hours. The city is a mixture between ancient ruins, more modern ruins, abandoned buildings, communist architecture, and new EU-funded building projects. Casinos and sex shops are everywhere, typically in the newest buildings. There are no markets selling fresh produce, so the main staples of our diets were gone: apples, pomegranates, oranges, dried apricots. The rest of the day is better explained in photographs:

This is the typical architecture in the old town. The cleaner ones are hotels. Others are falling apart, full of broken glass and heaps of rubble.

We stopped for lunch in what seemed to be a decent restaurant. It was crowded, and that's usually a good sign. Sure enough, we found out we were in an Italian place when we sat down, or something trying to pass as Italian. First thing to check for is what other people are drinking. Apparently Saturday at noon is a perfectly normal time to drink beer... or pitchers of milk. Mind you, nobody drinks plain milk in the rest of Europe, or in Turkey for that matter, other than children. Not that we didn't already look confused and out of place, but we ordered some beers so that we didn't stand out even more. The food came and my order was wrong, but I didn't really care. It came out in a foil take-out dish and tasted like a microwaved casserole. Oh well, it was sustenance. We wandered for a few more hours after that.

Clothes and such are cheaper in Bulgaria than they are in Turkey, so we went hunting for shoes and jackets. No dice. I found a few pairs of boots I liked, but none of them were in my size. I tried on some jeans, but the sizing system is different so I couldn't figure it out. I was about to buy a winter coat for the equivalent of $20, but it was one-size-fits-all and didn't button right over my chest. Go figure. The models in the Bulgarian mall were one of the funniest things we saw all day:

We made a brief stop in the hostel around 17:00 to enquire about restaurants for dinner. Got completely lost trying to find it. Took a right for a few kilometers when we should have taken a left. Ended up finding where we were trying to go. They had lots of open tables, but said they wouldn't seat a party of two. How on earth that works is beyond me. I don't know if it's because there was a private party or they don't seat people who speak a mixture of Russian and English. We ended up eating at a restaurant across the street. No one serves pork in Turkey, so I decided to order a pork dish that was stuffed with godknowswhat. It was bland. Meh. If the main courses are bad, it's generally a good idea to go somewhere else for dessert.

We found a dessert shop that looked promising, and actually was quite good. It was too early to go to the bar the hostel had told us about, so we sat around talking after dessert and sipping on coffee. Finally we decided to brave the cold again and find Fabric, a new bar/club in town. The interior looks kind of like it's trying to be American, but in a very distinctive manner. The place is dark. Walls are red brick with a lot of arches kind of like a mill. All the tables and chairs are dark wood. They played all American music, which I found surprising. At one point they were playing Louie Armstrong... It was pretty fun people-watching.

The next morning, we each hit our heads a few times getting up. Not fun. I braved the shower at the hostel, which was a shower head attached to a wall between the sink and the toilet (thankfully western style), with a drain in the middle of the floor and a sliding partition separating it from the other toilet "stall." At this point, we were both ready to get back to Istanbul. We went down to the bus station with our bags, only to find out that the 11:00 and 14:00 buses were full. So we bought tickets for the 19:00 bus, dropped our luggage in the bus company's office (fingers crossed that they'd still be there when we got back) and tried to figure out what to do for the next 8 hours. There were a few food stands near the bus station, so we stopped at one in the hopes that it was half-decent. The guy was selling sausages with bread. I ate about half of it, felt my stomach churning and we ended up leaving the rest of it for the stray cats. I don't know if it was bad meat or if it was just undercooked.

On top of one of the hill/mountains in Plovdiv is a giant statue of a Russian soldier commemorating the Russian "liberation" of Bulgaria, which was part of the Axis in WWII. It would seem that a hill that is visible from any vantage point would be easy to find. However, when you're on street level it's very difficult to tell. We essentially turned a 30 minute walk into a 3 hour walk. Got to see more of the residential areas tho. If it hadn't been a beautiful day, and the city wasn't more or less empty, it would have been pretty sketchy. At one point we found ourselves walking down an obviously communist-era housing project area. All the buildings were the same, right down to the peeling paint. The boulevard was much wider than necessary and seemed like it might make a nice little park in summertime if it was cleaned up a bit. A few more confusing Bulgarian-Russian-English directions took us to a working class neighborhood where some of the bricks weren't held together by mortar, but we could see the mountain. The area was abandoned. People obviously lived there because we could see their washing, but it was silent. After a short rest and a snack of stuff we brought with us from Turkey, we walked up towards the mountain. An old man in a mechanic's jumpsuit told us in Russian how to get up to the stairs. Those led to a main road that led up to the monument.

It was a pretty good climb up to the top. We sat along the ledge and looked out at the city and the mountains for a while. We were hungry and dazed running on about 5 hours of sleep sitting on top of a mountain with a giant Russian monument behind us. That was where the word "surreal" first popped up. From the mountain you could see some people playing tennis and others climbing up the rocks of the mountain along very unstable looking ledges. Finally hunger got the better of us and we wandered down. The first thing we came across that looked halfway appetizing was one of these hotdog stands. Positively the most fake tasting meat I've ever seen. Once again, it was still pink. I ate half of it and decided that I probably couldn't stomach the rest.

A few blocks further and we found ourselves in an impromptu skate park. I had no idea Bulgaria had a big skating and bmx community, but apparently they do. We sat in the middle of the square next to a statue watching these guys on skateboards and bmx bikes attempt tricks on their ramp and on the benches and rails nearby.

A short walk away from the skatepark took us back to one of the main roads. It was at this point that we discovered that it should have only taken 30 minutes to get to the top of the mountain instead of 3 hours. We called it quits and headed for the bus station even though the bus wasn't leaving for two hours.