Friday, June 22, 2012
Istanbul: Clear Directions
As many a Turk will tell you, traffic in Istanbul has improved significantly in the last ten years. People actually stop at red lights now, and honking - although still a lot - is much, much less than before. However, sometimes the attempts to control traffic, and particularly rush hour, can continue to be confusing for the innocent passer-by:
Istanbul: Cinarcik
June 14, 2012
In the summer there are regular boats that go directly to Cinarcik, a summer town where many Istanbulites have their homes. I went out there on Thursday, spending time on the rocky beach and swimming in the water.
For lunch I went to a cafe and ordered a beer. At first he was startled that a girl would order a beer, then when he realized I was serious he went to get an Efes. Only he brought back alcohol-free Efes. Now Efes is already quite similar to water, if you're going to get alcohol-free, you'd be better off just ordering plain water.
I looked at him a little confused and asked if he could bring me regular Efes.
"Oh, you want it with alcohol? Ok, look, I'll do something special for you."
"Wait, what?" But he had already run inside, returning a few minutes later with a beer glass and a shot of what looked and smelled like grain alcohol. I looked confused again.
"You can have alcohol in your beer now!" I started laughing. Stopped and stared at the scene in front of me, and then started laughing again. I wanted a regular beer, not alcohol specifically. Then I realized that he meant for me to mix the shot of alcohol with the beer, producing a "regular" beer. I laughed again and then sent the alcohol and beer back and got an iced tea instead...
It was explained to me later that this particular cafe was owned by a religious man and as a result they were prohibited from selling alcohol. The server wanted to get me what I wanted but since he lacked actual beer, he thought he could solve the problem by offering a shot of alcohol to throw in the beer! Creative but simply not what I was going for that afternoon...
The "alcoholic" non-alcoholic beer
The boat trip back to Istanbul
In the summer there are regular boats that go directly to Cinarcik, a summer town where many Istanbulites have their homes. I went out there on Thursday, spending time on the rocky beach and swimming in the water.
For lunch I went to a cafe and ordered a beer. At first he was startled that a girl would order a beer, then when he realized I was serious he went to get an Efes. Only he brought back alcohol-free Efes. Now Efes is already quite similar to water, if you're going to get alcohol-free, you'd be better off just ordering plain water.
I looked at him a little confused and asked if he could bring me regular Efes.
"Oh, you want it with alcohol? Ok, look, I'll do something special for you."
"Wait, what?" But he had already run inside, returning a few minutes later with a beer glass and a shot of what looked and smelled like grain alcohol. I looked confused again.
"You can have alcohol in your beer now!" I started laughing. Stopped and stared at the scene in front of me, and then started laughing again. I wanted a regular beer, not alcohol specifically. Then I realized that he meant for me to mix the shot of alcohol with the beer, producing a "regular" beer. I laughed again and then sent the alcohol and beer back and got an iced tea instead...
It was explained to me later that this particular cafe was owned by a religious man and as a result they were prohibited from selling alcohol. The server wanted to get me what I wanted but since he lacked actual beer, he thought he could solve the problem by offering a shot of alcohol to throw in the beer! Creative but simply not what I was going for that afternoon...
The "alcoholic" non-alcoholic beer
The boat trip back to Istanbul
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Istanbul: Boat Party!
June 9, 2012
On June 9th in celebration of Kenan's birthday he collected 50 of his dearest friends and we had a four hour boat party on the Bosphorus. It was awesome.
Can you see that other boat through the window? That's right. Another boat came up right next to us for no good reason and our captain had to make some ridiculous maneuvers to avoid getting hit. It's a huge water area with plenty of room for all the boats but leave it to the Turks to find a way to cause traffic issues.
The lights on the bridge at one point were flashing and dancing, as if in rhythm with the music we were dancing to on the roof of the boat
On June 9th in celebration of Kenan's birthday he collected 50 of his dearest friends and we had a four hour boat party on the Bosphorus. It was awesome.
Can you see that other boat through the window? That's right. Another boat came up right next to us for no good reason and our captain had to make some ridiculous maneuvers to avoid getting hit. It's a huge water area with plenty of room for all the boats but leave it to the Turks to find a way to cause traffic issues.
The lights on the bridge at one point were flashing and dancing, as if in rhythm with the music we were dancing to on the roof of the boat
Istanbul: Kinali Ada
June 8, 2012
For 3 lira you can take a 30 minute ferry ride to several of the islands off the coast of Istanbul (Princes Islands) and one sunny Friday we decided to take the opportunity. I had never gone before, but it's the perfect day trip (as long as you don't go on a weekend!). On the island you can rent bikes, hike around, or get some sun, and it's the perfect way to quickly get out of the hustle and bustle of the city.
For 3 lira you can take a 30 minute ferry ride to several of the islands off the coast of Istanbul (Princes Islands) and one sunny Friday we decided to take the opportunity. I had never gone before, but it's the perfect day trip (as long as you don't go on a weekend!). On the island you can rent bikes, hike around, or get some sun, and it's the perfect way to quickly get out of the hustle and bustle of the city.
Homeward Bound
May 22 - 23, 2012
Remember how getting to Tanzania was terrible? Yeah, getting back to Germany was much worse.
Our last night in Stone Town we ended up in a hotel that was undergoing renovation and as a result, we couldn't get a room with air conditioning. The overwhelming heat prevented us from sleeping and I actually got up several times in the middle of the night to throw water on my face. At 6 in the morning we speedily ate a hard-boiled egg and some coffee and rushed to the ferry back to Dar.
I should have suspected something when the man started walking around handing out black bags labelled "sick bags", but Kira and I have both spent significant time on boats and figured we'd be fine. Hah. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Turns out when you take the ferry to Zanzibar you're going with the current but when you come back, you're going against the current. Those in the know (and who can afford it) take the boat in and then fly back. Two hours of nonstop roller-coaster like activity and everyone was sick. EVERYONE. 30 minutes in I went out on the deck and sat on the ground by the railings, trying to keep an eye on the horizon while Kira put her super-heavy-duty headphones on so she couldn't hear everyone getting sick around her. One woman on the deck would periodically make these inhuman, wild cat roar-like noises while grown men would make these queasy smiley faces right before pulling their black bags closer. It was a nightmare scene out of a movie.
Although neither of us got sick, but I felt like I was on a rocking boat for two days afterwards and our Dar colleagues kept commenting on the white pallor of our skin. Even thinking about it now makes me pale. When we arrived in Dar we went directly to our office there where we had to finalize some things before flying home that night. After spending the day there, we drove to the airport and got on the first leg of our overnight flight back.
The flight to Ethiopia went fine, but then the flight to Frankfurt was delayed. When we finally boarded, Kira was upgraded to business. When I asked the steward, "what about her travel partner?" He was like, "maybe you can pay five dollars and come for a visit later" and then open his mouth to expel this evil sinister laugh. I was SO CLOSE to punching him the face. Ok not really, but I definitely had a moment where I imagined what that would be like. He knew this flight was a stressful situation for everyone and to make such a joke was beyond cruel.
In a twist of miserable fate I ended up in a row with a mother and her four kids who spoke no English or German and were behaving like wild banshees. Turns out that several flights on this route had been cancelled in the past few days on account of storms and several people had been stranded, resulting in an overbooked flight and Kira's upgrade. I wouldn't have minded, but a lack of sleep was making me slightly crazy. Halfway through the flight we made a stopover in Sudan, where we then proceeded to be delayed by a sandstorm. A sandstorm. My first time in a sandstorm was on a rocking plane filled with wailing children and snarky flight attendants.
To add to the misery, every time something happened, the pilot would come on and in this monotonous voice (think Office Space) would start to explain in great detail what was going on: "As you folks can see, there is a sand storm. I don't know about sand storms, but obviously we can't fly right now. I talked to the folks from the airport. They know about sand storms. They said it'll probably be over in 15 minutes. Then if we can see, we should take off. After the flights before us. There are some flights ahead of us in line, so they'll take off first. Some sand might come through the air ventilation. Don't freak out. That happens sometimes. We don't think it will happen this time, but it could. If it does, please don't freak out..." on and on and on. Then again in German. On top of that, I sat next to man who kept sending wild hand signals to his wife who was sitting a few rows ahead of us, as if she couldn't understand what was going on, even though she clearly could. I didn't sleep the entire night and when we finally made it to Frankfurt at 7am, I was completely trashed. Kira, having slept in business class, asked me how my night was and I just teared up.
I walked out of the airport and to the bus home, which had just arrived. As the driver got out I asked in German if I could sit inside while he took his break. He thought I was German (he was of Turkish descent) and in a very condescending and rude manner said, "Noooooo. No, I need break. SMOKE? I need a smoke!" Then I just snapped and responded in Turkish, "Understood! I just wanted to know if I could sit inside while you did that!" and then teared up and stalked away. I think I scared him because he came back early and said, "look, look, I'm here. Do you need help with your bags? I'm so sorry, I thought you were German." Like being German made his behavior ok?! I'm exhausted, who cares if I'm German, Turkish, or from Mars? Either do something nice for someone or politely tell them you can't. No need for the attitude.
Lesson learned? Next time I have long trips, I'm traveling during the day. In retrospect, the whole situation was like a national lampoon comedy, but because I was so tired the only laughter I was capable of was maniacal, on-the-edge cackling. At least with day travel, I'll have a chance of normal sleep between my flights and can avoid the borderline crazy. The other lesson is, I am never going to assume I've just had the worst travel experience possible because as I learned only a few weeks later, it can always get worse.
Remember how getting to Tanzania was terrible? Yeah, getting back to Germany was much worse.
Our last night in Stone Town we ended up in a hotel that was undergoing renovation and as a result, we couldn't get a room with air conditioning. The overwhelming heat prevented us from sleeping and I actually got up several times in the middle of the night to throw water on my face. At 6 in the morning we speedily ate a hard-boiled egg and some coffee and rushed to the ferry back to Dar.
I should have suspected something when the man started walking around handing out black bags labelled "sick bags", but Kira and I have both spent significant time on boats and figured we'd be fine. Hah. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Turns out when you take the ferry to Zanzibar you're going with the current but when you come back, you're going against the current. Those in the know (and who can afford it) take the boat in and then fly back. Two hours of nonstop roller-coaster like activity and everyone was sick. EVERYONE. 30 minutes in I went out on the deck and sat on the ground by the railings, trying to keep an eye on the horizon while Kira put her super-heavy-duty headphones on so she couldn't hear everyone getting sick around her. One woman on the deck would periodically make these inhuman, wild cat roar-like noises while grown men would make these queasy smiley faces right before pulling their black bags closer. It was a nightmare scene out of a movie.
Although neither of us got sick, but I felt like I was on a rocking boat for two days afterwards and our Dar colleagues kept commenting on the white pallor of our skin. Even thinking about it now makes me pale. When we arrived in Dar we went directly to our office there where we had to finalize some things before flying home that night. After spending the day there, we drove to the airport and got on the first leg of our overnight flight back.
The flight to Ethiopia went fine, but then the flight to Frankfurt was delayed. When we finally boarded, Kira was upgraded to business. When I asked the steward, "what about her travel partner?" He was like, "maybe you can pay five dollars and come for a visit later" and then open his mouth to expel this evil sinister laugh. I was SO CLOSE to punching him the face. Ok not really, but I definitely had a moment where I imagined what that would be like. He knew this flight was a stressful situation for everyone and to make such a joke was beyond cruel.
In a twist of miserable fate I ended up in a row with a mother and her four kids who spoke no English or German and were behaving like wild banshees. Turns out that several flights on this route had been cancelled in the past few days on account of storms and several people had been stranded, resulting in an overbooked flight and Kira's upgrade. I wouldn't have minded, but a lack of sleep was making me slightly crazy. Halfway through the flight we made a stopover in Sudan, where we then proceeded to be delayed by a sandstorm. A sandstorm. My first time in a sandstorm was on a rocking plane filled with wailing children and snarky flight attendants.
To add to the misery, every time something happened, the pilot would come on and in this monotonous voice (think Office Space) would start to explain in great detail what was going on: "As you folks can see, there is a sand storm. I don't know about sand storms, but obviously we can't fly right now. I talked to the folks from the airport. They know about sand storms. They said it'll probably be over in 15 minutes. Then if we can see, we should take off. After the flights before us. There are some flights ahead of us in line, so they'll take off first. Some sand might come through the air ventilation. Don't freak out. That happens sometimes. We don't think it will happen this time, but it could. If it does, please don't freak out..." on and on and on. Then again in German. On top of that, I sat next to man who kept sending wild hand signals to his wife who was sitting a few rows ahead of us, as if she couldn't understand what was going on, even though she clearly could. I didn't sleep the entire night and when we finally made it to Frankfurt at 7am, I was completely trashed. Kira, having slept in business class, asked me how my night was and I just teared up.
I walked out of the airport and to the bus home, which had just arrived. As the driver got out I asked in German if I could sit inside while he took his break. He thought I was German (he was of Turkish descent) and in a very condescending and rude manner said, "Noooooo. No, I need break. SMOKE? I need a smoke!" Then I just snapped and responded in Turkish, "Understood! I just wanted to know if I could sit inside while you did that!" and then teared up and stalked away. I think I scared him because he came back early and said, "look, look, I'm here. Do you need help with your bags? I'm so sorry, I thought you were German." Like being German made his behavior ok?! I'm exhausted, who cares if I'm German, Turkish, or from Mars? Either do something nice for someone or politely tell them you can't. No need for the attitude.
Lesson learned? Next time I have long trips, I'm traveling during the day. In retrospect, the whole situation was like a national lampoon comedy, but because I was so tired the only laughter I was capable of was maniacal, on-the-edge cackling. At least with day travel, I'll have a chance of normal sleep between my flights and can avoid the borderline crazy. The other lesson is, I am never going to assume I've just had the worst travel experience possible because as I learned only a few weeks later, it can always get worse.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Istanbul: We are each other's saviors
Writing about Freddy reminded me of an interaction my brother and I had in January, when I was visiting him in Istanbul.
We had been on a dolmuş (minibus) on our way home from visiting my grandmother when it became suddenly clear that the little girl in front of us was likely to get carsick. She was with her mother, another woman, and a man. They were an obviously conservative family, with the women covering their heads and the man standing protectively over them. I reacted immediately, and told my brother to give them a plastic bag he was holding in case the girl was really sick. As he handed the bag over to the women, the man took it from him and then handed it over to women even though the mother was closer to my brother. Then we also broke off a piece of bread for the girl to chew on, which again was passed from my brother to the man and then to the mother and child.
I noticed these mannerisms immediately, and realized it was a result of their conservative religious beliefs. The man also wouldn't make eye contact with me and avoided talking to me. Nonetheless, the child was my priority and I was going to try to help regardless of what our religious differences were. After a few more minutes, the girl started feeling better and just then the family came to their stop. As they got up to leave, the mother stopped and looked at me and said, "Thank you for everything. People are each others' saviors" and left.
What she said was so correct for me and so important. We clearly had different values and beliefs and I most definitely did not agree with most of hers. But that didn't stop us from helping them or prevent them from accepting our help. I know that she would have helped us, too, had we been facing our own difficulties. So many people refuse to give or take help because someone doesn't "belong" to their group, but throughout human history it has always been people who ultimately demonstrate the grace and kindness that saves others. Whether that is due to divine intervention or something else is up to you to decide, but we always have the choice to open our hearts to others and I wish more people would remember that.
We had been on a dolmuş (minibus) on our way home from visiting my grandmother when it became suddenly clear that the little girl in front of us was likely to get carsick. She was with her mother, another woman, and a man. They were an obviously conservative family, with the women covering their heads and the man standing protectively over them. I reacted immediately, and told my brother to give them a plastic bag he was holding in case the girl was really sick. As he handed the bag over to the women, the man took it from him and then handed it over to women even though the mother was closer to my brother. Then we also broke off a piece of bread for the girl to chew on, which again was passed from my brother to the man and then to the mother and child.
I noticed these mannerisms immediately, and realized it was a result of their conservative religious beliefs. The man also wouldn't make eye contact with me and avoided talking to me. Nonetheless, the child was my priority and I was going to try to help regardless of what our religious differences were. After a few more minutes, the girl started feeling better and just then the family came to their stop. As they got up to leave, the mother stopped and looked at me and said, "Thank you for everything. People are each others' saviors" and left.
What she said was so correct for me and so important. We clearly had different values and beliefs and I most definitely did not agree with most of hers. But that didn't stop us from helping them or prevent them from accepting our help. I know that she would have helped us, too, had we been facing our own difficulties. So many people refuse to give or take help because someone doesn't "belong" to their group, but throughout human history it has always been people who ultimately demonstrate the grace and kindness that saves others. Whether that is due to divine intervention or something else is up to you to decide, but we always have the choice to open our hearts to others and I wish more people would remember that.
Zanzibar: Stone Town
May 22, 2012
Stone Town
We left Kendwa Beach a day early so we could spend some time exploring Stone Town, the one proper city on the island and the port for all the ferries. The architecture is a mix of Arab, Persian, Indian, and European elements, making it a super interesting place to walk around (and incidentally, a UNESCO heritage site since 2000). Additionally, there is a lot of shopping to be done, if you're willing to bargain, which my travel buddy was happy to do. She negotiated everything to ridiculously low prices, something I've never been willing to do. We probably got three times more stuff with her style than mine...an embarrassment to my Turkish heritage, I know.
Anyone want fabric with Obama's face on it??
Stone Town
We left Kendwa Beach a day early so we could spend some time exploring Stone Town, the one proper city on the island and the port for all the ferries. The architecture is a mix of Arab, Persian, Indian, and European elements, making it a super interesting place to walk around (and incidentally, a UNESCO heritage site since 2000). Additionally, there is a lot of shopping to be done, if you're willing to bargain, which my travel buddy was happy to do. She negotiated everything to ridiculously low prices, something I've never been willing to do. We probably got three times more stuff with her style than mine...an embarrassment to my Turkish heritage, I know.
Anyone want fabric with Obama's face on it??
Zanzibar: Making Rafikis
May 21, 2012
After returning from our snorkeling trip, Kira and I set ourselves up on some beach chairs with the intention of enjoying our last evening by the water before returning to Stone Town in the morning. No sooner had we sat down that in typical Tanzanian fashion, a man selling bracelets came and started talking to us. In my one week outside of the hotel, I literally got no peace as people kept coming over and trying to talk to us or sell us something. There is absolutely no way to blend in there when my skin is so glaringly white...
Freddy, as he introduced himself, promised not to sell us anything and said he just wanted to practice his English, so we let him continue sitting with we us. After a while we found out that he was half Tanzanian and half Kenyan and had come to Zanzibar where his father was from to try and make money. At some point, while he was talking to someone else, Kira and I had started speaking in German. When he came back to the conversation, I turned to him and explained in English what we had been talking about so that he could also understand.
All of sudden Freddy got very quiet and looked almost emotional, and started telling us that we were his Rafikis (friends). Apparently telling him what we had been talking about was one of the kindest things a foreigner had done for him and he was moved by how different we were from the others he had interacted with. He kept talking about how it was so nice of us to let him practice English and include him in our conversation, and decided he wanted our email. I said, "oh, do you have email?" I remembered how the banana ladies had no idea what I was talking about and thought it was unusual. He responded that he had called a friend, told him he wanted an email account, and this friend had called him later with the email address. Freddy has literally never been on the internet, and since we still haven't gotten emails from him I'm guessing he still hasn't figured it out...
He also began insisting that he had to give us bracelets as a sign of friendship, and refused to take money for them. In the end I pulled out a plastic watch I travel with and gave it to him, and we had a proper exchange of gifts between visitors and friends. It was a strange moment for me, sitting in my bathing suit as the sun was setting on Zanzibar, exchanging small tokens of friendship with a complete stranger after doing nothing more than including him in our conversation. It's amazing how the littlest things can mean so much to people. Even if you don't have millions of dollars to give away, simply being considerate of others can sometimes be enough. I sometimes forget that in my daily life and sometimes have to travel halfway across the world to be reminded of it again.
After returning from our snorkeling trip, Kira and I set ourselves up on some beach chairs with the intention of enjoying our last evening by the water before returning to Stone Town in the morning. No sooner had we sat down that in typical Tanzanian fashion, a man selling bracelets came and started talking to us. In my one week outside of the hotel, I literally got no peace as people kept coming over and trying to talk to us or sell us something. There is absolutely no way to blend in there when my skin is so glaringly white...
Freddy, as he introduced himself, promised not to sell us anything and said he just wanted to practice his English, so we let him continue sitting with we us. After a while we found out that he was half Tanzanian and half Kenyan and had come to Zanzibar where his father was from to try and make money. At some point, while he was talking to someone else, Kira and I had started speaking in German. When he came back to the conversation, I turned to him and explained in English what we had been talking about so that he could also understand.
All of sudden Freddy got very quiet and looked almost emotional, and started telling us that we were his Rafikis (friends). Apparently telling him what we had been talking about was one of the kindest things a foreigner had done for him and he was moved by how different we were from the others he had interacted with. He kept talking about how it was so nice of us to let him practice English and include him in our conversation, and decided he wanted our email. I said, "oh, do you have email?" I remembered how the banana ladies had no idea what I was talking about and thought it was unusual. He responded that he had called a friend, told him he wanted an email account, and this friend had called him later with the email address. Freddy has literally never been on the internet, and since we still haven't gotten emails from him I'm guessing he still hasn't figured it out...
He also began insisting that he had to give us bracelets as a sign of friendship, and refused to take money for them. In the end I pulled out a plastic watch I travel with and gave it to him, and we had a proper exchange of gifts between visitors and friends. It was a strange moment for me, sitting in my bathing suit as the sun was setting on Zanzibar, exchanging small tokens of friendship with a complete stranger after doing nothing more than including him in our conversation. It's amazing how the littlest things can mean so much to people. Even if you don't have millions of dollars to give away, simply being considerate of others can sometimes be enough. I sometimes forget that in my daily life and sometimes have to travel halfway across the world to be reminded of it again.
Zanzibar: Boat Trip
May 21, 2012
I like this picture because it reflects Swahili mannerisms translated to English. In Swahili many words are repeated. "Pole pole" (pol-e pol-e) means slowly, slowly and "poa poa" (po-a po-a) means cool, cool. Here on Friday, they're going to have Party Party...
Snorkeling trip on an old-school boat. Why do something in 30 minutes if you can do it in 2 hours?
The other boat, so you can have an idea of what our boat looked like
The island where we snorkeled. I saw a black and white banded snake (turns out they're poisonous! Would be just my luck) and a fat fish that looked like an overripe banana (seriously, yellow with brown spots).
The cleanest beach with the whitest sand I have ever experienced. Ever.
The required footprints in the sand picture...
Where the fishing boats collect when they're not out on the water...
I like this picture because it reflects Swahili mannerisms translated to English. In Swahili many words are repeated. "Pole pole" (pol-e pol-e) means slowly, slowly and "poa poa" (po-a po-a) means cool, cool. Here on Friday, they're going to have Party Party...
Snorkeling trip on an old-school boat. Why do something in 30 minutes if you can do it in 2 hours?
The other boat, so you can have an idea of what our boat looked like
The island where we snorkeled. I saw a black and white banded snake (turns out they're poisonous! Would be just my luck) and a fat fish that looked like an overripe banana (seriously, yellow with brown spots).
The cleanest beach with the whitest sand I have ever experienced. Ever.
The required footprints in the sand picture...
Where the fishing boats collect when they're not out on the water...
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Zanzibar: Just to make you jealous
May 20, 2012
The required picture of my feet on a beach somewhere awesome
Yes, that's right. They just wanted to be extra sure you knew it was box wine.
Me, on a hammock, with a watermelon cocktail. Precisely where I belong
photo: Kira
The required picture of my feet on a beach somewhere awesome
Yes, that's right. They just wanted to be extra sure you knew it was box wine.
Me, on a hammock, with a watermelon cocktail. Precisely where I belong
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