Money, and a quick story (not in that order)

I got back from our mid-stay camp yesterday night. I’ll probably talk about it in a different post. After only 3 days away, I had 28 new messages in my email inbox. I read about 3, gave up, and decided to write a blog rather than address the backlog of emails.

A few hours ago I was walking back from the gym I’ve recently joined. It’s kind of nice having joined a gym in Turkey. The differences between a gym in Turkey (or at least the one I go to) and a gym in America are kind of like the differences in shopping. In America, the employees are there if you need them, but they pretty much stay out of your way unless you ask them for help. When you walk into a store in Turkey, the first thing you usually notice (depending on the time you are there) is that there are frequently more people working than there are actual customers. This is especially true of Turkcell stores, which seem to be able to employ massive amounts of people despite the fact that they are everywhere – I have literally seen a block in Turkey where the storefronts were Turkcell, Vodafone, Tobacco Shop, Turkcell, Avea (another cell phone company here), a general store, and another Turkcell. All 3 Turkcells had customers. If you walk in a clothing store, and show an interest in a certain item, the employee won’t hesitate to offer you his or her opinion on it. At first I thought they were a little pushy (“so do you want to buy it? Do you? Do you?”) but now I’m actually a little disappointed when I go in a store an no one comes forward to helps me.

Anyways, the gym is the same way. When I first started, Tolga, the guy who works there said, “okay, let’s get started.” And he sits me down and works me mercilessly for the better part of an hour. It’s basically like having your own personal trainer to tell you what to do, especially if I go at a time when it isn’t so crowded – of course I’m not the only one who gets this “special treatment”.

Another thing. We have municipal elections approaching in Antalya. It’s pretty likely that AKP, the conservative, somewhat religious party, will win here, because the current mayor is from AKP and is pretty well liked. That, and the fact that AKP has several times more money to spend on this election than anyone else. AKP puts that money to good use by having vans drive around with pictures of the candidates and loudspeakers on the top, playing surprisingly additive songs like “Muratpaşa (a district in Antalya) is our home”. I always have to suppress the urge to dance whenever one of the vans passes by, because the song is very addictive. Luckily, I can’t understand all the Turkish, so I don’t get the full Orwellian effect. CHP (Social Democrats) and MHP (Nationalists) have vans as well, but I don’t see them as often. So basically campaign advertising in Turkey is like the Blues Brothers, I think. At least they don’t have those stupid little signs on the side of the road. I feel like people are much more likely to vote for someone because they have a song stuck in their head than because they’ve seen someone’s name written more than the other guy.

So I’m still walking back from the gym. Even though I’m actually really skinny (hence the reason why I go to the gym), I’m taller than nearly everyone in Turkey, and when I’m wearing a rain jacket (because it’s always raining in Antalya) I can look pretty big. Someone got my attention while I was walking by the mall parking lot near my house (I live within 2 minutes’ walk of 2 medium-sized malls), and asked me if I could help him with his car. He pointed out that I looked athletic and could probably manage to push the car, and his flattery must have worked, because I, of course, agreed to help him with his car. He asked me if I was from Antalya, and I said, no, I’m actually from America. He told me his wife was Russian, and pointed out his half-Russian son, trotting alongside.

So after we got his car running, he thanked me with a wave and an (English) “thank you very much!” At first I was a little upset. I generally don’t like it when I tell people in Turkish that I’m from America, and then they say something like “welcome”. I guess I feel like if I’m speaking Turkish and getting along fine, why not continue in Turkish with a “hoş geldiniz” instead of a “welcome”. And then I remembered what I said upon hearing his son was Russian: “privet”. So I guess it cuts both ways. People try to be friendly and hospitable. All I can do is enjoy the friendly sentiment, and respond in Turkish.

So that’s the story part of this post. The second part is just a brief explanation of the money here, with thanks to Wikipedia for the dates.

Until 2005, Turkey used a currency known simply as the Turkish lira. This worked fine until the 1980s, when inflation necessitated constantly adding zeroes to the money. Although the Turkish government kept adding zeros, it never reached “hyperinflation” – it wasn’t like Zimbabwe. People could still afford everything, it just made international trade a little more difficult, and, of course, all those zeroes get confusing.

It got the point where in the early 2000s, a can of coke was usually around a million Turkish lira. For a tourist-oriented country, this was seen as kind of embarrassing, not to mention confusing for foreigners when they look at a menu and a cup of tea is 2.500.000 [2.5 million], or see that their hotel bill for the night is 220.000.000 [220 million], or they want to buy a car and it is 70.000.000.000 [70 billion] (in Turkey they use periods instead of commas).

Anyways, in 2005, the government had had enough. Luckily, the lira had stabilized and was actually rising against the dollar. They decided to remove 6 zeroes from the currency, so the 2.5 million lira cup of tea was now only 2.5 lira. Except to distinguish, they called this the “New Turkish Lira”, commonly known by its Turkish abbreviation “YTL”. The YTL was divided into 100 sub-units, called “kuruş” – basically like cents. There is no 1 kuruş coin – people here don’t care about exact change like they do in America. All the prices are rounded to the nearest “5”, and because tax is included in everything, not just added on top of the normal price, you don’t have to worry about this like you do in the states.

Another thing about the kuruş coins – the 50 kuruş coin and the 1 lira coin look almost exactly like the 1 euro coin and the 2 euro coin, respectively. They are made from the same metals, and weigh, I’m told, the same. While it could be that this was purely coincidental, it was more likely a political move, saying “look, we’re ready to join the European Union, because our money looks rather similar”. Either that, or it was a way for Turkish people living in Europe to cheat vending machine owners, because I’m told as well that the coins will work in vending machines that accept Euro. So it’s kind of like how you can use Canadian money in the US. The major difference is that a Canadian quarter is worth almost the same as its American counterpart, whereas a 1 YTL coin it worth ¼ of its Euro counterpart.

On 1 January, the money changed yet again. The “New” was dropped, and now the currency is known once more as the Turkish Lira, or TL. The value hasn’t changed at all, just the name. For a year you can continue to use your old money, and after that, you have to take it to a bank to exchange it for new notes. I’m kind of amazed, though, how quickly the money has changed. I still sometimes see an old $20 bill when I'm in America, even though the money changed... what, maybe three years ago? In Turkey, probably 2/3rds of the bills in my wallet right now are new, and it hasn’t even been 2 months since the money changed.

The coins have been changed so that they no longer look like the Euro coins, and, in my opinion, the new coins are prettier as well. Everyone, however, seems to hate the new paper money, and I agree. The old money was made of some sort of cloth-type paper, whereas the new one seems like it is made with cheap printer paper. Furthermore, on the front side of the money, there are pictures of people. It’s the first time that the Turkish Republic has ever put anyone other than Atatürk on its money. Some people think that this is a deliberate AKP attempt to diminish the role of Atatürk in every day life. I just thing its stupid that there are people on the money, and no one has any idea who any of them are. Literally. Except for the 200 lira note (which, because it is worth like $120, I don’t see very much), which has Yunus Emre, the other people are completely unknown. The old money was bigger as well, and had pictures of historical sights instead of the “famous” Turks who no one knows. The new money also, according to some, looks like the Euro (it’s colorful, which is a major improvement over American money), and also features, on certain notes, a smiling Atatürk. A lot of people don’t really like that either – they grew up accustomed to a serious, stern Atatürk, and the idea of him cracking a smile on the money seems a little bit weird, I guess.

The money can be a little confusing, because even though they got rid of all the zeroes, many people still say “million”. So if your sandwich that costs 3 TL, the waiter may say “3 million”. How much is the water, you wonder? “Five hundred thousand.” My mom doesn’t understand the new money, and she always tells me things in millions and billions. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, sometimes people still say “YTL”, even though now it is just “TL.” So your sandwich is “3 YTL” (pronounced yay-tay-lay). Fun, isn’t it? And many places don’t accept credit cards. The little corner store accepts credit cards, but the electric company, for instance, does not. To pay your bills, you have to go wait in line and pay in cash.

I’ll write about the camp later, maybe. Anything else people want to here about? I might write more about the election, but writing about politics in Turkey makes me feel a little uncomfortable just because I really don’t understand it so well and I don’t want to misrepresent things.