Friday, September 26, 2008

More School

It’s been far too long since I last wrote, I’m afraid. I’ve come to realize that writing a blog is extremely difficult. Of course, this is true of any writing. It’s not the physical act of writing that’s difficult, at least not for me. It’s the preparation and self-motivation that is problematic.

Anyways – today was my first full week of school. Last week, I only went for three days because I was feeling a little ill Thursday and Friday. I can’t emphasize the “little” enough. Thus far this trip (with my fingers knocking on wood as I write this), I haven’t gotten sick.

School is… boring. Imagine the most boring day possible, and then multiply it times five. Even in the classes where I can barely make out what the teacher is talking about – Chemistry and Geometry – I’m totally screwed when it comes to any sort of homework. Most work that we are assigned is practice problems for ÖSS, which is the Turkish equivalent of the SAT. Unlike the SAT, which our guidance counselors are constantly telling us not to spend so much time worrying about, the ÖSS will basically determine a Turkish student’s entire life. If you do well, you get to go to university, and if not – no school for you. Most students attend after-school prep-classes, especially those in 11th and 12th grade. It’s tough.

I’m in 10th grade. The reason for this is the aforementioned ÖSS. Students in 11th or 12th grade don’t really have any time for socializing and indulging someone who doesn’t speak Turkish. My class is 10-C. (‘C’ in Turkish is pronounced like ‘dj’.) Except for laboratory periods and physical education, every lesson takes place in the same room, with the same group of students. The rooms are completely Spartan – the only adornments are a picture of Atatürk, Atatürk’s “Message to Turkish Youth”, and the words to the national anthem. All three also appear at the beginning of every textbook.

Every morning, the entire student body assembles in the playground while the headmaster imparts words of wisdom. Of course, no one listens. On Monday mornings and Friday afternoons, we sing the national anthem. Luckily for me, many of the students just mumble their way through it, so as long as I move my lips I can stay out of trouble. That’s a good thing – I’m probably the tallest student in my school, so the headmaster can stare directly at me while I pretend to sing. I really have to sell it.

Once the morning assembly is done, we file in to the school, one class at a time. The teachers form a gauntlet, and as we walk through the doors, the pick students at random from the line, haranguing them about the many ways in which their uniform is improper. I say “at random” because no one wears the uniform properly – no one tucks in their shirts (unless the headmaster is coming), no one wears their tie, and most of the guys don’t shave as often as the teachers would like. It is by far the most nerve-wracking part of my day, but most of the teachers know I’m American and don’t waste their time yelling at me if I roll up my sleeves.

We have a week-long holiday now, so I’ll have plenty of time to write more. Later, I’m going to try to upload some pictures. I have so much more to write, but I’m tired and will try to continue later.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

School

Today was my second day of school. Turkish schools are… different, I suppose, is the only way to describe it. I’m trying to go at it with an open mind. While, in my mind, I can see every single American teacher cringe when they see my tiny classroom with 31 students, the truth is that it isn’t that bad. The one complaint I have is the desks, which were clearly not designed for someone as tall as I am. For that mater, they weren’t really designed with any consideration for the human body. In America, we have our nice molded plastic chairs, and each student gets a two or three foot bubble of personal space. Many rooms at Freeport High have the tables arranged in a rectangle, to encourage discussions. Not so in Turkey. My classroom has three columns, two desks wide, five or six deep.

While I can’t understand what’s going on most of the time, I’m impressed by how quickly the lessons go. The teacher’s don’t mess around – they stand and deliver, and the students take notes. Actually, they copy exactly what the teacher puts on the board. Exactly. It’s kind of eerie. I think that Turkish students learn far more than we do in America, but American schools focus more on output (i.e. papers) than on input (i.e. memorization). I’m not taking sides on which is better.

What else? Today I had “National Security” as a class. I wish I could have understood what was going on. Basically, an officer (three stars – a general?) glared at us, while everyone tried not to giggle and he lectured on what I can only presume are serious subjects of the utmost importance.

It’s weird being a celebrity at school. Everywhere I go, I can hear people saying “Amerikalı”. Also, everyone has decided that because I’m tall and American, I am some sort of basketball god. Never mind that I haven’t played since I was about six, and they’ve never actually seen me play for more than 30 seconds. Today, in physical education the gym teacher tried to make us march for about ten minutes, gave up, and then we sat around and shot hoops. One of the other gym teachers called me over and asked me if I would play for the school team. Now, I never actually touch the ball when we were playing – presumably I wouldn’t deign to play with mere amateurs, or else it would be unsportsmanlike to the other team.

All in all, I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s only been two days, and school is still pretty strange. I’m enjoying myself, but I’m waiting for things to settle down and for my life to approach something like normality.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Fire on the sea

I’m writing this on my own laptop. What a relief. Bulatcan and I just went to S’hemall (don’t ask) and picked up an Ethernet cable. I gave up trying to get my computer to work wirelessly and am just glad to be online, using my own keyboard. Thus far the only thing I’ve spent money on has been my uniform. It’s at the tailor right now.

My days have settled in to a fairly predictable pattern: sleep in until 10 or so, get up, eat, study Turkish, eat again, go to the beach, come back, eat again, watch television with the family, study more Turkish, eat more, and then sleep. It’s a pretty pleasant life. If only it wasn’t so hot. Any time I have free time I try and review my flash cards. My host mother Filiz helped me study for a while today. She was an English teacher, and though she’s never taught Turkish she did an excellent job. Unfortunately, many of the sounds are completely foreign for me and I have a hard time stringing words together.

Tomorrow I will go to the Antalya museum, and I think my camera will finally get some use.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Antalya

To my great relief, I ended up flying to Antlya. Filiz, my host mother, had previously told me that she thought that I would be traveling by bus. İstanbul to Analya by bus is about twelve hours, whereas a plane is barely one. We traveled yesterday to Antalya airport, which had a high concentration of jets flying the flags of Russia and the -stans.

I met my Filiz and my host brother, Bulatcan, at the airport, and before I knew it, we were motoring away towards their flat. I needed a nap. I remember from studying abroad in Egypt that I was seemingly always tired. Something about being an exchange student is exhausting. Perhaps it’s the heat or the walking or maybe just the adrenaline.

Speaking of heat: Atanlya is hot. So hot. Bulatcan and I went to some cliffs near my house to cool off, and saw a cruise ship go past. The Mediterranean is much saltier than the Atlantic, I think, and it’s far easier to stay afloat. Bulatcan and I both have our hair cropped fairly shortly, and two people asked us separately if we were military students.

I’m writing from a jury-rigged internet connection. The wireless setup isn’t working for me here, so I think tomorrow I will buy a cable. I wish I’d thought to pack one. I was a little depressed yesterday when I unpacked because I realized what a profoundly awful job I did at packing. I managed to somehow end up without a single sweatshirt but I have a big winter coat which I know I’m never going to need. We have a mid-year camp in February where I will probably use it, but I feel a little stupid having brought something that I am going to wear for a grand sum of about 2 hours whilst in Turkey. Ah well. There’s nothing I can do now save shop, and Antalya has shopping galore. There are two malls within walking distance of my house and tomorrow I will meet my counselor and Wednesday I will go shopping for school supplies and my uniform.

Filiz and I checked out my school today. I was a little overwhelmed because we went at the end of the day, and students were milling about without any semblance of order. School starts today, but I don’t have to start attending until next week.

Bulatcan and one of his friends want to go to mall. I’ll write more later when I’m feeling more erudite and composed. Life is good, and I’m so glad to be here – now comes the hard part.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Random Blog Stuff

I think I'm going to try to get an image to use as a banner for the blog once I'm in Turkey. True, I could steal someone else's image, but this seems a failure of creativity and imagination, not to mention an act of dubious legality.

Anyone have any cool ideas for titles? I kinda came up with the one I'm using, "Nice Looking Brochures" on a whim, but I'm not completely wild about it. Of course, I'm also bad at coming up with blog titles, so... for now, what you see is what you get.

First Post

Thus, with an inauspicious tappity-tap on a keyboard in an anonymous Queens hotel does my blog begin. It isn't quite On the Road, but in today's day and age, you take what you can get.

I'm a little reluctant to commit myself to the whole idea of maintaining a blog. The blog reminds me a little bit of my role in Little Shop of Horrors (I attended an all boys summer camp and played Audrey), with the blog rapidly becoming the beast. Unlike in the movie, the play ends with the plant eventually destroying the whole world, so I'll try my best to keep the blog under control.

Another problem I have with travel blogs: a lot of them aren't that interesting. I'll try my best to keep the reader engrossed, but much of this is inevitably going to be personal anecdotes that aren't particularly accessible to those outside a select few.

Disclaimers aside: let me begin.

I awoke early this morning and flew JetBlue from Portland to JFK. Easy flight: one hour, about 80% full, no mephitic neighbors. An interesting question entered my mind during the journey: why is it that people feel that sleeves are optional whilst in public? Yes, a wife-beater might be great for those hot summer days, but when you're on a plane, at the ballgame, or walking around Freeport, show some dignity America.

On the subject of dignity and America, I feel bad for the AFSers from Alaska. A typical interaction:

"Hey, where are you coming from."
"Umm, Alaska?"
"Sweet. Pretty cold, huh?"
"Yeah."
"So... how do you feel about governor Palin?"
"Same way I felt when the last twelve people asked me."

The states represented by AFS tend to shadow the more, shall we say, "blue" states. It's pretty bi-coastal.

What else? Orientations were not the most exciting things, but for those of us who paid attention there were some useful nuggets of information hidden within the talks.

Oh, one last serendipitous encounter to share. One of the AFS volunteers was a counselor at Takajo back in the 1990's, and he knew Nick Andreacci, one of my bunk counselors. He sent Nick an email and, of course, he remembered me. Remarkable. Even more remarkable is that a girl from Ghana is going to be living in Naples. (Naples, Maine, not the "real" Naples.) She'll be in for a bit of a shock come Thanksgiving-ish.

I'm going to turn in. I need to get up early and re-pack my computer and whatnot. Love to the family, and my condolensces to FHSers that school lunch went up ten cents. I'm as outraged as you are.