vagabond, vagabunda, vaga vaga...

Polis polis polis!

2012-01-16T01:33:00.000-08:00

Wow, what a fantastic time I am having. And that sounds like sarcasm, but it's true. Last week I did some exciting things, like taking long walks around Istanbul, participating in a flashmob, and teaching my first real "class." Usually I do one-on-ones, or sometimes groups of three, but I had four students on Monday and I felt like I was exercising my CELTA muscles a little.

Yesterday my student didn't come, so I left work around 3pm and sent Husso a text. He called me back, saying "Hey hey hey wait I'm coming to Taksim there is a Couchsurfing event!" and I said "okay, let's meet somewhere -- yusufpasa -- or wait, I'm closer to Capa --" THEN my phone battery died. (Normal).

So, I sat on the bus thinking, should I ask the guy next to me if I can use his phone? How would I say that in Turkish? Would he think I was crazy? Or, maybe if I play with my dead phone desperately enough, he'll just offer it?

No, no, no. I got off the bus immediately, imagining all the possible outcomes if Husso were to realize my phone was dead. Would he meet me in Yusufpasa? Would he look for me on the sidewalks? Then I saw a police car, parked behind a taxi, and a bunch of police around. I sucked up my pride and hopelessly approached them, asking in Turkish..."do you have a cell phone? My battery died."

At first they didn't know what to do, but realizing I was a foreigner they just smiled and helped me out. I have to say, I would never do that in America. Ask a policeman for help, I mean. Everyone I told the story too thinks it's crazy they helped me -- Istanbul police are notorious for being a little, shall we say, disconnected...

In other news, Besiktas beat Bursaspor last night! It would have been all ice cream and cookies but Green Bay got annihilated. Oh well, there's always next year.

Crossing the Bosphorus

2011-12-06T12:13:00.001-08:00

Rebel rebel run run

Barely twenty you

were floating where you will

No strings attached was awful fun.

Saw a face, met a place,

Couldn’t see yourself

Breathing any other air

Ready as soon as you packed your suitcase

Headphones beat beats

You love how they

Carefully watch you

Bouncing along the city streets.

Wind blown, time alone

Feeling the waves crash

Hurling you where you will

Where would you have flown?

Deep dark, faint spark,

Keeps you lingering like

A seagull for bread

After all, it’s your trademark.

Autumn in Turkey DOES exist!

2011-11-17T23:19:00.001-08:00

There are orange, yellow, and red leaves, here, too. But notso much in Istanbul. Living in the city, your capacity to imagine naturebecomes dulled; even growing up in the woods I sometimes forget mountains,fields, and the natural colors of fall. Then I started to think maybe Turkeydoesn’t experience fall like we do in Maine. But in fact parts of Turkey arefamiliar. Unexpected familiarity is quite welcome, in fact, because I oftenbelieve I’m on a different planet every time I look at the cityscape and seedistant mosque towers standing on the horizon.

We went to Bolu during the holiday. It’s famous for it’slakes, fish, and meat, too. Husso and I don’t get to eat a lot of meat really;for one thing, I don’t know how to cook it that well, and it’s expensive. Butanyway we ate meat delicious meat and meat variations every day in Bolu.

Husso drives fast, but it’s okay. I remember driving 220km/hour with Alex across Romania in the summer of 2008, but I wasn’t scaredthen. Maybe I was younger, or maybe I just didn’t care or value life as much asI do now, but in any case I was really terrified when Husso was driving thatfast. Of course I trust him but, at 180 km/h, I felt like more was at risk. Idon’t know if it was. I used to drive that fast, too.

We got to Bolu in the afternoon, and met up almostimmediately with Husso’s friend there, and we spent some nice hours chatting. Wedrove to a man-made type lake and drank a bunch of beer; I got an opportunityto pee in the bushes, which is something I fervently enjoy. In the evening, weescorted off into the woods to a secret gathering-house where tons of alcoholand food was served, we had a driver so we got quite intoxicated, and I feltlike a Viking at a feast. It was fantastic.

In the morning, more of the same, but in the crisp morningair outside, at a picnic table, with a traditional Turkish breakfast. Imagineplates of honey, tomatoes, cucumbers, fresh bread, jams, eggs, sausage(porkless but a good attempt), and olives; this is the breakfast of champions!!J

Ducks and little animals wandered around the garden, and thesun was shining warm on my face. The tree branches above us were dancing in thesunlight and I could have, too.

After that, Husso & I went to the big lake, Abant. I wasexpecting a resort-like atmosphere, but in November there was almost no onearound, and Husso and I raced a lot or threw rocks into the lake, and drank acouple glasses of wine with French fries. It was lovely, and there were somehorses and kids and picnickers around, it was great. We’ll make a campsitethere sometime I imagine…

On the last day, we had a BBQ at the top of a mountain in alake valley, and although it was like 2 degrees it was great fun. I ate toomuch, I honestly and sincerely felt cold for the first time in Turkey, and Iwas happy. The lake had a fairytale atmosphere, with a hanging mist and onelonely house on the opposite side. The sun was guarded by storm clouds, butthere was a permeating lightness about the place.

One more kingly feast was DEVOURED before heading back toIstanbul…I think I haven’t eaten so much – too much – good food in such a shortspan of time since, well...Hong Kong!

A trip back home..ish

2011-11-10T01:34:00.000-08:00

There are ooooold people fighting in my building again!

So, it's time for some more serious updates. First and foremost, many of you have expressed interest about the interview. I can't say enough that it wasn't just an interview...in fact there were three parts, involving a writing exercise and a group exercise (argument).

I was the youngest person at the interview by at least 3 years; and of 16 people there were only 5 girls, which was to be expected. In a situation where the majority of passers are 28-year old guys with MAs, I guess I had it coming.

Everything is scored on a scale from 1-7. You need a 5.2 to pass, and I received a 4.8 and a friendly "good job" pat on the back from the nice interviewer lady, Rhonda. (MY MOM'S NAME??/NEVER MET ANY OTHER RHONDA BEFORE??) She said, "hey, how old are you anyway?" to which I responded.."I'm just 22!!" and then she laughed and said, "you'll grow into it." I said, "aw, thanks...for being so nice." And she said, "I'm not just nice, I'm serious." Which actually frightened me a little.

So, knowing that I can apply every year, will I apply again this year? No, probably not. I'm not giving up but, I need to get more experience before I'm qualified for this job. Frankly, everyone else I spoke to during the exercise treated me like a kid. There were wives of Afghanistan security officers or working for the U.S. government already. One guy, also from Maine, was a soldier in Venezuela. I realized then and there that I wasn't what they're looking for.

So, I speak Arabic. So, it was fun to learn and I enjoy using it. But it's the only thing that got me through and basically everyone else did too. To be realistic, I'm not studying Arabic anymore and if I were to test again I don't think I would pass with it this time anyways. Not to mention that it's no longer considered before the interview stage; which means I'd have to get in on my experience and education alone (not happening).

The truth I'm facing after all this time is simply that I haven't done anything seriously important in comparison to other people who want this job. I have some plans to change that, but at the moment I am quite deliciously happy in my home in Istanbul, and I will be staying here for the foreseeable future. I'm considering applying for grad school here (they're all done in English), or a Fulbright. I think the Fulbright is a little more practical, but I have to speak better Turkish first.

Anyway, DC was great. I got to spend quality time with my darlings Katie Cincotta and Elia Reily, and my mom and her boyfriend. We passed some happy hours and drank some delicious drinks. I also got to eat everything I wanted to eat before coming back: Chinese, Japanese, Pizza, Mexican, and good-old classic American BBQ. Plus, the Packers won on Sunday night. Excellent.

My country!! MY COUNTRY!!!

Mom and me at WHITE HOUSE!

I didn't miss "home" at all, and I don't know if I ever will. For sure sometimes I get fed up living in Turkey, but that's not to say I'd come crying back to America. I'd probably just move somewhere else.

Trapped in the closet

2011-10-14T00:28:00.000-07:00

Hey, hey, hey hey. Hey.

Sorry it's been a long time since I posted last, daily life has been continuing on as normal. We all got sick at my house last week, but we're all better now. My job is cruising along nicely, with some opportune money-making possibilities cropping up here and there.

Neco & I at a dinner for a friend a couple weeks' ago.

The weather has turned to something a little more gloomy as of late, and we've been spending a lot of time indoors. Or I have. I'm usually sleeping, or, from time to time, watching videos on youtube. We finally got wireless at home (thanks boyfriend!) and I am happily updating from my bed! Yes, best day ever. Yes so anyway it's raining more and more and the temperature has been between 14-18 degrees Celsius these days, nothing to brag about.

Hmm, what else. Oh yes! Next weekend I'm coming to the U.S. (I still cannot believe this to be actually true) for my interview in the Foreign Service. I'll be in Washington, D.C. for approximately 4 days and I have no fond feelings for this adventure. First, I had to blow $600 on my airfare which could have been either invested in gold or perhaps used for my vacation in November. But it will be all stress and ridiculousness in D.C. and I really thank those of you, friends and family, who are coming down to make the time pass easily and happily. Let's also peruse a museum?

So what this entry is actually about is R.Kelly. The thing is, R.Kelly released this epic genius saga called "Trapped in the Closet" six or seven years back and although I've watched the entire thing two or three times I love it and it makes me laugh so hard. If you've seen it before, but forgot, or never made it to the end, you have to give it another go. It's pure genius.

If you've never watched it, brace yourself, this is not for the faint of heart. An exaggerated soap-opera in the form of an x-rated hip-hop rhyming scheme is not for everyone.

I think you'll enjoy. There are 21 more episodes so don't give up.

Good for a rainy day anyway. And a laugh.

In other news, Husso and I don't have a closet, so I guess I don't have to worry about this problem. Even our kitchen cabinet door is broken. Yes, I am confident than no one could successfully hide in my house while I'm here. Bam. Take that R. Kelly.

Getting to Bucharest...Train -or- Bus?

2011-09-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

My adventurous self got up to no good again during Bayram holiday, I took a 5 day trip to Romania! I decided to take the train there and the bus back, so I'll try to explain with as much detail how the travel experiences were (it's not an extrememly popular route).

Train route: Pros (Leaves Sirkeci station EVERY night at 10pm, but buy your ticket a day in advance. Arrives Bucharest around 7pm the next day.)
-The train is extremely FUN. If you're young like me and you like to make friends and get some alcohol in you, the train is definitely the best option. Although there were a few boring people, I met 10+ fun people within five minutes of boarding, and I was offered a beer in even less time. The conductors are also lenient and will even buy you food/drinks if you ask politely in Turkish at stations. You are not allowed to get off the train (except for the duty-free at the Bulgarian border), but as I said the workers on the train will accommodate you.
-It's COMFY. They give you a pillow and a blanket and I fell asleep almost instantly. This was shocking for me, because in all of history I have never fallen asleep on bus.
-The scenery is really fun, and the best parts of the country pass by in the daytime.
-I can't be 100% sure but I'm gonna guess it's never very crowded. I left on the Friday of the biggest holiday for travel and I only shared my compartment with one other woman. That said, there may be busy times. But the train leaves every night all the same.

Train route: Cons
-First, the price of the train will surprise you. Everything on the internet, from Turkish websites to tourists guides, say that the train travel is 40 euros, one way, in second class. For a couchette, it's 50 euros. HOWEVER, as I came to find out while purchasing my ticket, there is no second-class option from Istanbul to Bucharest by train. The price, with this week's exchange rate, was 115 lira. Which is like...too much money for that. Even being bayram, I found cheaper flights, (around 100 lira one-way), but opted for the train thinking it would be the cheaper option.
-Length of travel. Almost 22 hours on a train is not painful necessarily, but I had a short vacation and I had a friend waiting for me in the station -- it felt too long by the time we arrived.
-Hospitality-- yeah, there isn't really any. It can be viciously cold at night and hot during the day (or vice versa??), and you should bring tons of food and water, unless you're friendly and cute and speak Turkish and can negotiate for it.
-Extremely painful customs/border patrols. They take too long and they wake you up screaming TICKET! BAGGAGE! PASSPORT! at every opportunity.

In short, the train was fun and I would take it again, but maybe for a longer trip so I didn't feel so stressed about the time and money.

Bus route: Pros
-So many choices! There are at least 5 bus companies doing the route, amongst which I can remember Vardar, Star, Ortadoglu, and Marina. I took Murat, and I was able to ask around for the cheapest ticket -- in the end it was 100 lei, which is about 25 dollars. CHEAP!!!!!!!
-FAST! We lest at 4.30pm on Sunday and arrived in Istanbul at 3am! I was shocked, because they told me 13 hours...10.5 is much nicer!
-Easy border crossings. You only have to get off the bus once if you're an EU citizen. I had to get off a lot because I'm "gadna amerikanka" in the balkans...which basically means stupid american.

Bus route: Cons
-CONFUSING. No one knows whats going on at any of the bus stations, and I was told to arrive at 3 for the departure point, but my bus didn't leave until 4.30, and they almost didn't let me on because the Romanian ticket person did not assigned me a "car"-- turned out there were 3 busses leaving from Murat at the same time, and we had to do some detective work to figure out which was mine. These guys do not speak English or Romanian, and I'm certain if I didn't speaking basic Turkish I would still be in Romania...hahahah. Also, YOU NEED A ROMANIAN TO HELP YOU BOOK THIS TICKET. IF YOU DON'T KNOW ONE, MEET ONE. First because all the offices are hidden in random locations in Bucharest, and secondly the pick-up point was even harder to find!! And my friend has lived in Bucharest all his life!
-Random times/dropoff location. Although it was fast, getting to Aksaray at 3am in the morning when you live in Sirinevler can only be followed by a taxi ride, and Aksaray is not pleasant at that hour, either. Haha. There are some busses that leave in the evening from Romania, like 11pm or so. I'd reccommend that.
-Scary freaking driver. I know bus drivers are crazy but I actually felt scared at times. And nothing scares me, haha. He was just passing like crazy down mountains/uphills and then would spontaneously scream at someone or himself inexplicably. Like, what!?

In general, the bus is easier, but less comfortable and convenient. It's really up to you! If you can't decide if you want to make this trip though, I have to urge you to go for it! Both routes are fun and Romanians, Bulgarians, and Turkish are all my favorite kinds of people -- friendly and helpful. If you're an American girl traveling alone, it's even more fun, because people want to take care of you (i.e. give you food) or get your drunk (i.e. buy you beer). Just don't bring all your valuables and you'll be safe from gypsies, don't worry!! This was my 4th time traveling balkan style and I love it more and more!! Good luck.

My life in Istanbul: Cleaning

2011-08-19T06:31:00.000-07:00

Today I had the bright idea to try and clean our bathroom. So the thing is, I never really feel in charge of the cleanliness of the house, because I live with a lovely girl who has lived here for five or six years, and everything is pretty much hers, you know? She also likes to go on these cleaning sprees while I'm home and never lets me help. Maybe that's what really makes me angry.

Anyway today I woke up on my day off, looked around the house, and realized I was home alone. Excellent, time to clean the bathroom. And everything else I can get my hands on. Quick.

The first wrong move was to expect that I would easily find a sponge. In America, we clean bathrooms with sponges. I still don't know what Turkish people clean their bathrooms with but I can promise you it's not sponges.

The toilet went well, but then again it's pretty straightforward. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Bathtub, too. And sink. But when I got to the floor I realized I'd have to take everything out of the bathroom to mop it.

So the second thing was to hang the bath mat outside. Now, I've seen little old housewives hang towels and rugs and bath mat like items out their windows without any problems but goddamn of course this would happen to me. Shuks came home in this instant and she saw me cleaning the bathroom, I ran out of her room where I had hung the bath mat and said "OKAY OKAY I'M CLEANING THE BATHROOM YOU CAUGHT ME"!!!

In that moment I guess the bath mat must have fallen...four floors down into a tree.

I had to tell her.

End of CELTA, starting work...oh, and Coskun the Rapist.

2011-07-28T00:22:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this entry by emphasizing that I have NEVER met a famous person before. Ok, I have seen plenty of celebrities on stage or maybe even through glass. But live, face-to-face communication? Just doesn't happen. I'm not one of the lucky ones.

But that said, it finally happened Tuesday night, during the celebration we had for completing our CELTAs. I had had a few beers (maybe 5) and I was definitely in a tipsy state when suddenly my boyfriend was like "OMG COKŞUN THE RAPIST."

This may not have any meaning for you, but for me it has so much. First and foremost, because I myself met a dude named Coşkun (pronounced: Josh-koon) last year, and didn't know before jumping in his truck to hitch-hike 36 hours that the name "Coşkun" carries meaning something akin to Jack the Ripper or Freddy.
This is because the character starred in a movie that was so widely acclaimed, comedic, and famous, that the charatcter continued to cameo as the token rapist in like...every other movie after that.

Secondly, Turkish people, upon hearing that I hitch-hiked with a guy named Coşkun, consistenly burst out laughing. So now that I actually met the actor, I feel cool.

Can you guess who the rapist is? Sorry about my eyes being closed, but like...you know. Alcohol.

Anyway. The CELTA course finished, I don't know what grade I'll get but I'm so happy it's over. I had fun and now I can be a real teacher, but for $1500 I would never do that again.

Here's a photo of our group....

And here's what we did when NOT studying CELTA stuff....

Right. So anyway, life goes on, I got a job and I'll be starting it on Monday. YES.

Quality family time

2011-07-08T10:47:00.000-07:00

So this past weekend, spilling into the end of this week, I got to spend some quality time with the bf's parents. His sister graduated which was amazing, I totally love her. So everyone came up to Istanbul for a little get together. To say the least, I was terrified. First of all my Turkish is still really atrocious (okay, it's better, but not great). Second I'm living with their kids. It's like they adopted a new one. Third of all, the stakes are high. I know they're judging me but all I can do is smile.

Observe:

Maybe you're wondering, hey wait. Why are you in Turkey again?

Okay, there are a few reasons. I'm being mindful of my career and chose to do a CELTA certification course here, which I'm feeling more and more proud of every day. (You can read more about about the course here!) Secondly I have a support network here and I find it impossibly easy to make friends. Third, I'm living in a huge city like NY without any of the crazy bullshit and unfriendly faces. And did I mention that everything is cheap?

So moving right along.

I'm happy, I'm happy looking at the sea and watching the people and taking the metrobus everymorning and thinking hey, I don't ever have to leave here if I don't want to. This can be my home. It's a nice feeling.

Hey dude, wanna shoot a baloon? Yeah, no prize. Just holding a gun and shooting. Sounds fun, right? BUT IS IT WORTH $1.50??

Anyway everyone's gone now, I'm home alone this weekend. I'm gonna reorganize our room and do some decorating. I think it will be pretty damn cute.

Megalopolis.

2011-07-01T09:52:00.000-07:00

I live in a Megalopolis at the moment.

I didn't believe it when I read it on Wikipedia but now I'm convinced it's true. I've seen the light, so to speak.

This evening when I crossed the bridge I cross twice a day to get to where I'm going, I saw the sun setting, and 10 lanes of traffic, busses, dolmuş and landing planes at the airport 10 minutes away. I realized that there is no place on earth I can compare it too, it's surreal, it's science fiction.

In another neighborhood, the buildings are shaped like spaceships and the air smells strange; the courtyards are wide and dusty and the stairs are endless; I feel like I'm in the Matrix or Tom Cruise's city in Minority Report; or maybe I'm on one of Captain Kirk's planets from Star Trek: The Original Series.

1960s sci-fi imagination or 21st century Istanbul?

You know what I mean?
Yeah, I am in Istanbul. The only city in the world that spans two continents. Population: 24 million.

My new home.

putting her up for adoption

2011-06-02T22:20:00.000-07:00

And man, it hurts!

Me enjoying the lovely breeze in my lovely car, on an otherwise overcast day.

I bought this car, a 1995 volkswagen cabrio, on June 15th, 2006. It was sold to me by a Somalian guy named Wasi, who had just driven it from North Carolina. Here we are in one of our more solid moments:

Broken down in the snow with my car. Lovable!

My car really enjoyed meeting people from different countries, just like me. Here we are with a German/Brasilian friend who obviously spoke Volkswagen.

Sunglasses with Nicole Minatel. Open road forever.

But, that's not to say that everyone understood her. After a rowdy night some not-so-sober asshole drove her to this end:

Drunk parking. Unforgettable.

It certainly wasn't me. When I drink and drive, I can at least make it between the lines:

Slightly LESS drunk parking.

But for the most part, I will just remember sunny, warm, days like this one with my car. We drove backwards on the highway for 300 feet that day! And survived. No blind-spots in a convertible, man.

An afternoon on the town with some foreign kids and my car. That's me in the stupid pink leggings.

Not so memorable moments include times when I rode in my car drunk. Too drunk to drive but too attached to driving, I forced some other unfortunate soul into the driver's seat, subjecting them to my insanity.

Drunk riding my car.

Overly happy about my gorgeous car. Important to note that this was before the tree happened. Or maybe my car happened to that tree.

Kingston bridge in my car.

ELATED about my car.

And finally, some fast facts.

Called it "gerdy" for a while. It didn't catch on though.
Started with 122,000 miles. Ended with 158,000.
Replaced the muffler/exhaust three times.
Replaced the alternator three times.
Installed a battery in backwards once.
Almost crashed 4 times.
Actually hit a tree in March 2010. But the car drove away from the accident. Nbd.
Broke down at least 7 times, mostly due to heavy rain and/or puddles. On two occasions the alternator died.
Have been pulled over 13 times driving this car, but never got a ticket.
Almost flipped it on prom night (2007) with Keegan Brown and Alexis Albert in a parking lot on Route 202 in Gray, Maine.
Tires popped approximately 5 times. Had two flats while driving.
Has seen 7 different mechanics, including a Vietnamese pimp and a completely useless pair of dudes with no training whatsoever.
Has never had fully-functioning windshield wiper fluid, emergency brake, seat sliding mechanisms, windows, or intake.
ALWAYS starts in cold weather. NEVER starts in rain.
Can seat 12 people with the top down, or 6 with the top up, but only technically fits 4....
Once drove it around campus with 12 Bard kids inside or hanging off the side, 4 of which were completely high.
A girl from Kosovo broke the passenger door handle completely off. What a twat.
Sponsored love-making twice. Both times we akin to trying to fondle a french horn.
Never received a parking ticket but definitely parked illegally in four different states.
Most frequently played song: Dimelo, by Enrique Iglesias.
Most frequently driven road: River Road.
Max speed ever driven: 105mph on the I-90 in Massachusetts.

Basically, all I'm trying to say is that this little convertible is absolutely batshit crazy and I love it. I'm only putting it up for adoption (and for money) because I honestly cannot take care of it any longer. I loved it hard. The only thing I owned in my entire life bigger than a breadbox.

I will miss you, car. I made you this way and I hope your new owner likes you as much as I did, even though you hated me a lot. Well, most 16-year olds hate their parents, right?

She's being sold today, for the grand price of $600. Well, it was nice knowing you.

Eurovision season!

2011-05-10T20:53:00.000-07:00

Yes yes yes, it's that time of year again! Fellow Americans, you may not know what Eurovision is, but I am about to fill you in!

The summary: A song competition, vaguely like American Idol, in which countries from in and around Europe send a song to represent their nations on the BIG STAGE. Each country has their own way of selecting the groups, and in some cases the government actually just chooses.

How it works: Voters from across Europe vote on their favorite songs between two semi-finals, culminating in a big final (happening this Saturday, May 14th). There will be 20 countries of the original 38ish that have entered the contest.

The drama: Eurovision is a highly politicized, criticized, and cheesetastic event. You will not find more examples of seriously horrible music anywhere, for one thing (although there are some really good ones). Second, people constantly accuse the competition of being rigged, where close countries or economically linked ones always vote for each other and diaspora groups over-represent a large amount of voters. It's criticized for being largely a joke and not based on music at all.

So as you can imagine, I don't give a hoot about all that. I just like seeing a bunch of Europeans do their thing, and reading the nasty comments the Greeks leave the Turks or the Spanish leave the French. It's all fun and games for me, because America doesn't play (for once) and Americans can't vote.

So last year I was all about Serbia's Milan Stankovic and his classy "Ovo Je Balkan (This is the Balkans!)", but this year I want nothing more than to see Bosnia's Dino Merlin take the contest with "Love in Rewind!" So good. So very, very good.

It's also worth nothing that many of the entries are intentionally sarcastic (to further ridicule the circumstances of this 50-year old competition). Some notable ones include Spain's entry "El Chiki Chiki" from 2008 and Russia's "Lost and Forgotten" from 2010. Truly memorable entries.

Well, that's all for now. It's not too late to pick a favorite country (that isn't Armenia, Norway, Poland, Albania, Croatia, Portugal, Turkey, San Marino, or Malta....they already lost the first round) and watch the second semi final HERE!!! on May 12th, 3pm (Eastern Standard Time - NY). THEN the epic final on May 14th! Same time, same place!!

Showering abroad: Week 1.

2011-05-03T19:26:00.001-07:00

I spent last week doing a small anthropological case study I’d like to call “showering abroad.” Although I did not actually leave my country, I had to leave my house in order to shower, which is definitely exploring new territory. This was because we forgot to place an order for heating oil and thus we could not shower at home. Alright—I’m exaggerating. I could take cold showers; I did it all the time in Morocco. But considering my extensive social network (and general resourcefulness), I decided it was more comfortable to simply ask around. It’s not that strange to come walking out of Arabic class and ask my classmate, hey, can I come over? And…take a shower? Just kidding.

The sad reality is that I had to plan every single shower that week. Not only did I want to minimize the amount of awkwardness, I wanted to make it seem like I was doing it not for necessity, but simply for convenience. For example, if I’m already sleeping over at someone’s pad, why should it be strange to shower in the morning? And if I so happen to be carrying my shampoo, conditioner, and towel, is it not logical that I can save time by simply showering at their place instead of trekking back to mine?

So let’s jump right into it.

Shower 1: The Tutor Dormitory

Now, the nine language tutors of my college all live together in one big community dorm. It has two shower-equipped bathrooms. I am personally acquainted with each one, and since I speak many languages, I feel that we understand one another. Therefore I was not surprised that upon learning of my showerlessness, both the Arabic and Spanish tutor urged me to come over immediately and enjoy the wellspring of hot water. I instead scheduled a time for the following morning. I was punctual.

There was nothing to be discussed—I arrived, carrying my makeshift plastic-bag shower caddy, and the Italian and French tutors showed me to the bathroom. I got undressed and organized my things. Suddenly someone was trying to come in. “No, no no no,” I said. “I’m naked.”

“Oh, sorry!!” said the voice of the German tutor. “But I just have to put my clothes!!” I understand foreigner-speaking English exceptionally well. I realized her wet clothes were in the washing machine and I was obstructing their path to the dryer. But what could I do. I just tried to lock the door again.

Shower 2: Co-worker’s Family Home

My lovely co-worker knew that I was dealing with the hardships of no hot water, and kindly offered her parents house as my next shower spot. Thankfully she was already entertaining a guest when I arrived at 10pm after work, and she neither commented on my disheveled appearance nor my inability to hold the items I kept dropping in the shower. Boom, crash, bang, etc.

The truth is, this shower was EXTREMELY slippery. Beyond the normal slipperiness of any shower I have ever experienced in my life. I kept thinking: how do her middle-aged parents and rowdy little brother survive this shower day-to-day? Have they removed the bath mat that would normally be here in preparation for my arrival, for the sole purpose of laughing at me?

At least my co-worker offered me some cake afterwards.

Shower 3: Long-time friend’s shower

My long-time friend is simply that, a long time friend. I have known her all four years of my college experience and will gladly spend time with her in the future. I was pleased to see that her shower curtain hadn’t changed since the last time I used it, two or three years ago. A glorious map of the world!

I was so entertained by this map of the world I forgot the shower completely. I could not tell you one thing that happened during it. I did notice, however, after leaving the shower, that she has a very inviting rooftop view. I had a sudden urge to climb out the window and sunbathe. Of course I did not act upon such an instinct: showering abroad is subject to the same cultural sensitivities as, say, living and working abroad. I wouldn’t want to offend anyone.

Shower 4: The Cat-sitter’s house

In a moment of compromised judgment, I felt it would be okay to have a few cocktails and run off to the bar with my former cat-sitters on a Wednesday evening. Thankfully we all made it home by midnight, and although I woke up feeling parched and cold, I slept fairly well. When one of the fine lady cat-sitters took a shower around 9am, I figured it was the perfect time to pop the question. “Can I sneak into your shower?”

“Oh, absolutely. But our cat likes to come in and use his litterbox when people are in the shower sometimes. Watch out.”

Fastest shower ever. I think that was the point when I lost my shampoo.

Shower 5: The new friends’ shower

I recently had the pleasure of making friends with a few chicks that all have the same name…and all live together…in the same house. I still don’t have any of their phone numbers, but they come to my workplace often, and I pounced on one of them as she ordered her typical medium coffee in a mug with soy milk.

She drew me a small map and told me to come over whenever, even if no one would be home.

The plan was perfect. I had forgotten my plastic bag shower caddy and did not want to confess that I would be taking liberties with her hygiene products. However when I arrived at her house she was waiting expectantly and I think she knew.

“Do you need a towel?”

“No,” I lied.

The most notable thing about this particular showering abroad experience is that the three girls all use the same razor style. In different colors. I giggled a little. I also guessed with ease whose shampoo was whose. As they are new friends of mine, I would consider that fairly perceptive of me, don’t you think?

Shower 6: The school shower

There was one day when I felt I had simply run out of showering places within my immediate friends circle. Loathe to ask someone the same favor twice, I opted to simply sneak into one of the larger dorms of my college and try a less personal experience.

By “less personal” I wasn’t exactly expecting a prison shower. Oppressive grey walls! Moldy curtains! People everywhere! No privacy! A showerhead that was probably designed by an evil dictator! Needless to say, I was appalled. But I took the shower anyway.

Actually the reason why it was my most unsatisfactory shower yet was because I accidentally left my cell phone in my skirt pocket and it vibrated the whole cell every five seconds; I felt extremely self-conscious and wished it would stop. I could not check the numerous incoming messages however because that would have required getting everything between the shower and my skirt wet, like my change of clothes and my schoolbooks.

Just miserable.

To be continued…

what the.....?

2011-04-09T10:07:00.000-07:00

MUSIC is SO CRAZY. Can I just say. First of all why dabbling in the art of Ataturk-puzzle-putting-together the lovely Shuks & I simultaneously watched Turkish music television on my first day back in Istanbul.

And on came J.Lo with her new song, On The Floor. Please, give it a listen:

Ok, so it has more than 80 million views and I'm thinking, wow, how did I not hear this song yet? What the hell music is the United States feeding us when awesome tracks like this are not on the radio all the time (of course it will be by the time I publish this).

Then, I play it for Husso, who tells me "OMG this is SO from an old song, I have heard this before." And I'm like doublewhat! This awesome beat? And I just heard it for the first time? I am such a loser.

So today I did a little research looking for that "old" song Husso was telling me about. Most of the internet is accusing her of copying Stereo Love, by Romanian Edward Maya. Or at least sampling from it. I disagree. That song is totally different (not to mention that Stereo Love was copied from Bayitlar, a traditional folk song and Maya got sued over it).

HOWEVER, no one can deny that J.Lo's dong (produced by RedOne), IS copying Lambada, a brazilian jam for the 80s. So Husso was right! Take a look:

So already I'm super disappointed. This was supposed to be my new favorite song & wtf it's not even new and the original version is HOT.

But this alone is not enough to post a blog entry about, no, no. The kicker, I later found out, is that Lambada also plagiarized! From Los kjarkas, an even EARLIER Bolivian group!?! WHAT THE HELL!? Lambada was sued for its use of the song, and I sure as hell hope J.Lo paid someone to use this tune because there is just too much going on here.
Note: the first youtube comment is worth looking at. It says, "thumbs up if you're watching this thanks to On The Floor". So does the whole world know about this except me?!

Ok, that's all for now.

WAIT one more thing. Rewinding back to J.Lo's song sounding like something else, I'll just throw in that the lyrics, choral bits, and even intro are identical to a song released in 2010 by Kat DeLuna, Party O'Clock. Yeah I'll post that too.

This is strangely not being released in the U.S., either, for some reason. Just Europe got that one. Confused? Yeah, me too. I just wish RedOne had kept the cool windpipes. Damn.

no, this is true. seriously.

2011-02-25T10:32:00.000-08:00

I woke up at 6am and by 9:30 I was in the city, yeah, it doesn't seem like it should ever take 3 1/2 hours but it somehow does.

When I woke up, I looked outside to see that it was, well...precipitating, wet snow. GREAT because my car LOVES wet weather! I briefly consider packing an umbrella, decide that its not too rainy anyways and leave it. Then I try on all my scarves and decided that none of them match my outfit. Left those too.

Hauled my ass to Poughkeepsie, where I then proceeded to park in an "only-after-9am" parking spot. So I had to move my car to the upstairs lot where it will get rained on all day. As soon as I started walking to the station to buy a ticket (PEAK HOURS BOO) I realized that I left my keys in the ignition. Again. Ok its not such a big deal, I always leave the keys in the car, but hell. It's Poughkeepsie.

Fast forward to 10:30am. I am soaking wet and my hair is literally dripping. It's a downpour in New York, and I don't have an umbrella, a scarf, or even a freaking hood!! What the hell!!

Not my photo but totally captures the day.

Starbucks. Apple raisin muffin. Toasted. Inhaled. Go to the bathroom, shove my head under the HIGH-POWERED hand dryer and pray I do not look like shit.

Then I did my interview at the Japanese Consulate!!

I swear this really happened.

I don't even want to stay in the city tonight: I want to go home, because New York always gets me down, man. This city is for psycho maniacs.

ESL for three weeks? Y NOT.

2011-02-10T10:41:00.000-08:00

Husso gets a job in Denizli, I'm on it. Denizli? Where's that? Can I do something there? What's up interwebs?

24 hours later,

"We had an opportunity to have a look to your CV. As the representative of ESL schools in Denizli, we teach all the languages that you mentioned in your mail. If you reply this mail with a detailed program of your Turkey trip, we will be glad to work together with you. As soon as you come to Denizli, we can meet you at the airport and prepare you a teaching program including Spanish, English, and Arabic. Please reply us the exact date of your coming and your maximum time period to stay in Denizli. What is the main reason of your trip to Denizli? Then we will reply about the details of your working conditions. What about your accomodation? If necessary, we will try to manage it for you. Hope to see you and work in a collabration with you. Have a nice work!"

Oh, Turkey. This might work out though...

how foreign friends teach me about me

2011-01-24T10:03:00.000-08:00

In reference to visiting Spain every year of my life, my best friend Kike from Spain wrote:

"you know that you are well come here siempre."

My first thought: "well come? aw, that is so cute. he said it a little incorrectly...but it still makes sense!"

...

Then: "oh, damn! welcome probably comes from "well come" doesn't it? like, you are coming and that coming is well. well to come, come well. right! Huh. I wonder if its the same in---SPANISH!! OMFG. Bienvenidos! BIEN. VENIDO. Well. COME." And french too. What the hell.

Sometimes, language really makes me happy. So even this morning when I was watching Turkish TV for a 1/2 hour (20 minutes before Arabic class) I don't feel bad about it...it wasn't procrastination, really.Surely I learned something. And I watched Al-Jazeera right after to make up for my little travesty anyways. Ahaha.

red hook, ny

2011-01-07T18:05:00.000-08:00

Ok. I have lived in Red Hook for almost four years, on and off, and I have never had a serious problem with it. I don't blame it for not having public transportation (no place does) an ocean (common problem amongst U.S. localities), or bubble tea (have to go to the city for that, oddly). But I do hold the town fully responsible for not having a fucking clue about snow and roads.

Listen...I am not squeamish about driving in the snow. There's a time and a place for it, and its winter in a temperate climate. But hell, you can't just leave roads unplowed. Not out here in the country. Fine, it's fine. Like my mom always says, my car "GOES" in the snow. Pretty true. It even stopped on pure ice earlier, much to my surprise.

But this is what really got me: I'm just creeping out of the village, leaving work, at 8:30. The speed limit goes to 40 mph but I stick at a cool 20. Because I'm traveling so slow, what should approach but one of the town's big fat plow trucks. Naturally, as I would in Maine, I wait for a long stretch of road, pull over, and put on my hazard lights. Quite frankly it only makes sense to PASS me so I can follow you and NOT DIE.

BUT NO. 2 minutes go by. He waits. I wait. 3. 4. 10. FUCK IT, I say, and start to move again. I'll just go to some gas station or something to let him get in front. The trouble is, my car starts to fishtail. Things are going awry. With some oomph, the car moves again, and I proceed to drive 8 miles at 20 miles an hour for the rest of my way home, because the road is basically not plowed and neither is any parking lot, gas station, driveway, or side road along the way.

Why do I have it in my head that New York should have a better snow clearing system than Maine? This would never happen in Maine. Not to mention, a freaking plow truck would never follow you home. THAT'S NOT WHAT WE PAY YOU FOR ASSHOLE!

I'm so calling the town tomorrow. Or Monday. Or whatever the hell day it is you can call and bitch people out up here.

Add this to the list of reasons why New York is the shittiest state ever. J/k.

A great analogy; AKA foreplay.

2010-12-16T16:44:00.000-08:00

Quick question:

You may have selected A or B. If you picked A, perhaps you did so because it is easily identifiable as a meatloaf, whereas B is not altogether clear to you. You may have also picked A because it is familiar, you know already what it will taste like. You can put a lot of sauce on it and you enjoy that. I see where you're coming from.

If you picked B, you may have done so because you know it is Moroccan-style couscous, and you prefer couscous to meatloaf. Perhaps you did not know what B was but it looked more exotic, flavorful, and unpredictable than B. If you think that B is better, you may also REALLY LIKE CHICK PEAS.

Here's another:

Again, you ponder the differences. This time, you know them both pretty well, but you waver. Perhaps A, the cheeseburger, as it has a mouth-watering quality to it, that suggests: I am bad for you. Eat me. Or B, the pasta and meatballs-- it has something festive about it, doesn't it? More professional perhaps? Maybe even a little more experienced, somehow. To the pasta-eater, the cheeseburger looks a little too plastic.

One more.

So you pick either the safe and friendly, not to mention warm and delicious apple pie -OR- the crazy foreign ice cream that really doesn't seem to have a clear flavor, and may have a banana in it. But in any case B seems to be full of fun flavors and excitement. Nah, nah, stick with A, babe, it's much safer, and it's probably cheaper.

Can you see where I'm going with this? Here we have compared American foods, typical ones--cheeseburger, meatloaf, and apple pie, to three foreign foods. We have the Moroccan Friday lunch, couscous, the Italian classic pasta, and Hong Kong desserts. Do these comparisons not speak volumes about the men in each of their respective countries?

I'm not talking about personality, either. I'll leave it for you to decide. And quit asking me why I keep falling in love with foreigners. Jeez.

lack of travel bluez

2010-12-09T21:57:00.000-08:00

Today marks the 100th day I've spent at home in the U.S., which is ten days more than I spent traveling this year. Balls.

I really miss being on the road. It's so freeeeeeeeeee. And now I'm listening to Edward Maya again (Stereo Love obviously) and it's too much man. I first heard this song last summer thanks to my archenemy and longtime friend Alex, who youtube spams by facebook with Romanian music all too frequently. Anyway, I listened to it so much in Morocco and it was my theme song for most of Spain that year, too. Especially in Sevilla and Cordoba I found it particularly fitting to my mood.

These days I'm hopelessly in love and I will not deny that this song was playing from the cell phone of my friend Nil while I watched Husso play volleyball and consequently...break his finger.

Inredible Turkish traditions everyone should know about

2010-11-30T06:45:00.000-08:00

Since meeting some Turkish people (and having a Turkish boyfriend), of course I have learned so, so so so much about the culture. But it's really different than I could have imagined, after having come into contact with so many cultures worldwide, the amount of funny and crazy stuff that Turks do really outweighs what I've gotten to know about globalization and the world.

In all honesty, three of these traditions make me feel like globalization is not a threat. Of course each country will take what they want from popular world culture but their traditions will probably never die.

A typical glass of tea in Turkey.

Turkish wedding tradition: After a man proposes to a woman, her family will invite his family for tea. Or most likely she will. The two families (everyone gathered, including cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, the like--) wiill know what's going on, of course. One of the things the girl has to do is prepare everyone a tea.She serves them all, and what she, and everyone else in the room knows, is that the man's tea is full of salt. Or at least half salt. And if he wants her family to approve the marriage, he better drink that tea without so much as a grimace.

"34" is the Istanbul area code.

Turkish military service: I just found out this morning, the something Turkish men do in their last 61 (I think) days of military service is use license plate numbers, and city names. Because each plate has a specific number for the locality, there is a city associated with each number, and the countdown speaks to men from every part of the country. Tomorrow is 48 - Muğla - which is my boyfriend's hometown. A special day, then. Isn't that awesome?

Turkish BBQ: Why cook chicken on a grill, when you can cook chicken in a beer can over the fire? Besides, it has more flavor, and you can stuff anything into a beer can, like BBQ sauce, spices, and herbs. Excellent idea. Cut off the top, roll it up, stick it in the fire. Voila!

More to come, of course. Meanwhile, I have to practice some sweet phrases.

here's one more bad thing I'm not expected to do...

2010-11-08T09:42:00.003-08:00

COMBUSTIBLE!

fast forward to today

2010-11-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

I talked to Badre, a Moroccan friend of mine, for about an hour on skype today. Recently married to a Canadian, I cannot believe that he now lives in Vancouver with her. We chatted about how it is being married in Canada and being Moroccan. He's really having a hard time. Seriously.

We talked too, about the circumstances between my friend G and his ex-gf-ex-gf Elene. Elene was French. G was Brasilian. There were endless conflicts, there still are. I explained to Badre that once, Elene walked out on G when she caught him cheating; only to return six months later. Badre said that it would never happen that way with him and his girlfriend, that in fact if he left he would leave forever. He used this metaphor to relate that to me...if, he suggested, a glass breaks, it will never look the same put back together. That's true, isn't it...

He also told me he was convinced he could "make it work," but beat around the bush and avoided telling me what wasn't working. Something that struck a chord was, pretending that everything is okay, or agreeing, or telling yourself it's perfect and this is what you wanted, when it isn't. I do that so so so often, but no one gets hurt...

it may have looked like i died

2010-10-17T16:59:00.000-07:00

on my way from Bulgaria, but I assure you that is not the case. In fact I've been home for almost two months now, and it wasn't until today that I felt like I had the time, energy, and enthusiasm to post about the last--and most exciting--segment of my trip. Hitch-hiking from Sofia to Berlin. In 3 days.

Here you have me and Coskun, as he sleeps and I drive his big truck to Slovenia. Normal.

So here's how it went down: I used couchsurfing to find Roald, a Dutchman with a passion for the hitchhike, to hitchhike from Sofia with me to Germany. He was headed to Utrecht, and I to Berlin, but we figured we could split along the way without too much trouble. I was right.

We stood on a streetcorner (near a gas station, at an intersection). It was on the outskirts of Sofia, but there was a LOT of traffic for 7am. In the first five minutes, some people passed me, shaking their heads sadly, or holding their hands up in despair. I, too, was beginning to feel mad depressed. It was going to be a long day...

To be more efficient, Roald asked people one-on-one inside the gas station where they were headed, while I held a sign that said "Beograd - Budapest" on it. After 20 minutes, Coskun stopped for me. He was like "come on!! come on!!" I was like "OMG are you Turkish?"

After he approved the two of us (Roald included--what luck!) we climbed into his amazingly HUGE truck and prepared for the ride of our lives. As soon as we were off, Coskun was giving us all the details of his route, in broken German and broken english, plus some awkward Turkish. From Istanbul he was headed straight to Germany--but way before our destination. His final stop was Stuttgart! Like 300km from Berlin, but closer than 3000km....

What fun, what bloody fucking fun. We had so much Turkish food, Coskun paid for all kinds of things for me, and oh! What a sweetheart. I was so happy. We had such good luck and Roald and I were really happy. We even got to sleep a little, although I was pissed that Coskun slept in his CHAIR and not on one of the cool bunkbeds.

We made it to Passau about 30 hours after leaving Sofia, and I couldn't have been more thrilled. I LOVE HITCHHIKING! In Passau, I was picked up by another Turk, Ali! He followed another truck driver, Mehmet, as they passed Leipzig.

Here's Mehmet (right) and Ali (left) being mad Turkish. I miss them so much.

Anyways, I spent a day with Ali (another 24 hours), and when we slept I was allowed to take top bunk (a small space, but wicked comfortable). During dinner, about 10 Turks came around as we ate, and all shared food. It was awesome and dramatic and German and cold. The best part was when some guys we didn't know came and Mehmet told me that we should stay away because they might think I'm a prostitute. It reminded me of Coskun being like, "oh no, don't hit on HER, SHE has a boyfriend in the army!" I love Turks. <3

At night I told Ali I would be fine, and didn't need a blanket. As I got comfy and started to fall asleep, I heard him leave the truck, and was woken up a few minutes later to find that he was tucking me in with a big comfy blanket he stole from Mehmet. Best of days. Deepest of sleeps. I missed Husso a lot that night, though.

The next day I found myself saying bye to Ali and Mehmet, and it was heartfelt. I felt as sad as I did saying by to Coskun and it was terribly tear-jerking. I sucked it up and crossed 6 lanes of autobahn traffic to get to Berlin. Holding my sign, I stood barely 10 minutes at the rest stop exit near Leipzig before being picked up by a lovely German lady and her service dog. She dropped me off in a random neighborhood. All was well. Yay, Berlin. Yay! $60 for ten days of German fun with my hard-to-get-in-touch with but awesome host, Pat.

More to come.

buglairagrabia

2010-08-13T04:37:00.000-07:00

I mean, Bulgaria!
The best part of a country like Bulgaria is the people! I love having Bulgarian friends, especially ones like Darina who take me to amazing latin italian party lei beer bars. Uh...

Do I overindulge?

I'll be here for a couple more days, before shoving off to my epic hitch-hiking adventure to GERMANY! Wooo...a little late though, everyone I know who is even remotely associated with Germany isn't there...

Some crazy shit that happened in Sofia:

Got caught by bus ticket police. Ok, so I didn't have a stamped ticket. Wtf? Those guys detained us for 15 minutes even though they spoke no english and demanded 10 leva. I didn't pay them shit, and me and Yana escaped like professionals.
Lost my LICENSE but quickly found it a nearby pizza place. SWEET DEAL.
Got grabbed in a park by a crazy person, who then proceeded to follow us for like 10 minutes. They say to be scared of dogs in Sofia, but I think it's crazed hand-jobber men that are more dangerous...
A random Bulgarian guy started asking me and Darina if we drink stout. We told him we were American, and he said, "YOU AMERICANS KNOW NOTHING!!!"

Well, that's all for now.

how to fall in love, in one easy step

2010-08-05T03:49:00.000-07:00

Stay in Istanbul for 8 days.

We don't know very much about Turkey, my fellow Americans. Do we? Do you? If you have heard anything about Turkey, I'll be surprised. But if you have imagined it, I promise that the real thing is infinitely sweeter than the dream.

I...I was in Morocco when I decided to go back. I was sitting on the terrace, writing, looking out at all the crazy-looking scenery and the ruins in the west. Mountains to the south, Fez lying before me and---

Well, I had to go back to Turkey.

The journey back was epic, to say the least. I found a flight from Madrid to Sofia (80 euros), and I knew that getting from Sofia would be cheap (15 euros). What I didn't know was that Husso, my new-found significant other, was not coming back to Istanbul. He preferred to stay in Didim, the town where his parents have a beach house, and relax for the rest of his days. He became a soldier on the 1st of August, and...

Sukran, his adorable sister, bought us tickets to Didim, (for which I owe her dearly), and we set out to surprise Husso, the moments leading up to it were among the happiest of my life. Imagine that 20 hours before Husso and I webcammed in Madrid, and we were both so depressed about not seeing each other for a year or more;

and then I get off the bus with his sister!
He didn't believe it at first--are you real? are you real? is it you? and everything was crazy. I was shaking.

That was July 23rd, 2010.
This is July 26th.

I felt so lucky to be a part of this...a crazy foam party!!
From left- Husso, Ati, Me, Random Dancing Guy, and Simla

One of the best things about Turkey is the scene for young people; dancing, music, clubs, parties, it's really incredible. I felt so happy. The only real problem is Turkish--(should I try to learn it, or no?)--and if I learn Turkish, I should try to live in Turkey. Right?

So beautiful.

And so short. Turkey still has obligatory military service for all men. And of course, Husso has to play, too. He will serve five months in Ankara, the capital, and after travelling back to Istanbul for two days, we finally had to say goodbye...with promises, tears, and I love you's scattered in the trail.

I hope things come together. I hope Bard doesn't kill me.
Onward to Bulgaria. This isn't over...

Spain, land of soccer WIN

2010-07-30T10:14:00.000-07:00

Oh, oh, oh!! I went to Spain for the FIFA World cup FINAL and Etnosur. Two great reasons to spend some time in a great country. A country for lovers, a country called Spain.

But specifically, I was in Sevilla.
I learned three new things about Sevilla.

Most Sevillianos consider the city like a "capricious woman"--every time you look around, even if you've lived there all your life, the city "reveals" a little more beauty. It was cute, listening to my CS friend Antonio tell me this...he said that even having studied the many details of the city for many years, he is still surprised by the color and the gorgeousness of his own Sevilla. Me, too. I'm happy there.
Bicycling is practical, easy, and fun, and I should do it more. Sevilla has great bike paths and if I lived there biking would by my primary mode of transport.
Libraries, bathrooms, and maps are always free in Sevilla. And this is why I love it.

El parque maria luisa....

I spent a few hours here every day.

After all the excitement of Spain winning the final had passed, I moved on to Etnosur, which is located in a small town near Jaen and Cordoba...Etnosur...well, it's all about beer, dancing, and music. It was so fun this year--I was happy as hell.

Of course, chilling with two Spanish brothers, Jorge and Kike, and a cute Latvian chick helped.

After the festival, three random, but adorable friends from Madrid gave me a lift. They even hosted me for a couple of nights, so I didn't have to sleep in an airport...

Airport, you say? Why were you going to the airport once you got to Spain?

Well...it's because I'm in love, and I had no choice but to go back to Turkey. If I didn't go, I would have been compromising my humanity, emotions, and general love of life and love of love and, and, and...

Morocco, you pain me.

2010-07-12T02:02:00.000-07:00

Morocco was a really crazy experience. Well, a shitshow is one word for it. No, that's an exaggeration, seriously. It was actually really lovely to arrive at the Hatim house, start doing some housework and peeling various vegetables, experience the squat toilet in a whole new way, and see all the friends I had met before. I was pleased, but unusually poor...the problem was I just had a lot I wanted to do but forgot I didn't have the $$ to do it, even being in Morocco.

Everything was really insane from the start: I had the worst hangover ever, the second day, and threw up all morning (which was really crazy, that never happens)! And then I had an insane outbreak of hives which I still can't figure out. My guess, bed bugs? Mosquito allergy? Super mysterious, but amost gone, now that I've used all the remedies my mom told me and rested a lot.

Most days I just stayed at home, wondering what my life was coming to and more importantly whether or not I should go to eastern europe again in august, because it's quite cheap and I have...well...obligations.

I did a lot of writing on the terrace, and I can upload pictures of such terraces soon. Morocco has a beautiful aestetic beauty and is always inspiring me to write.

The truth is, I'm falling in love with someone and I know it because I have stopped wanting anything from men, in general. Since I left Istanbul, I have probably had the opportunity to hook up with 15 people, and to be fair, we'll say 5 of them were actually my type and of these 3 I consider totally sexy. SO 3 people. And I haven't, because I just have no desire whatsoever...my mind is someplace else, and I suddenly feel like I need to protect myself more from this bad habit.

In Morocco too, I also realized I lose every bit of respect for me who want to sleep with me right away! But when I was younger, I thought that was the best part about meeting people in general--how quickly you can entice them? No, I dunno. Hard to explain.

Anyways I left Morocco on the 11th...And I'll write about SPAIN x3, SOON!

Oh fuck you, Italy!

2010-06-24T09:07:00.000-07:00

Why do I always have a shitty time in Italy? I'll tell you why. I don't speak Italian, Italian men are monstrous, and I can never find a map, bathroom, or library for free. Well, fine.

It wasn't all that bad, it was just...I couldn't meet up with Gian Marco (a couchsurfer I hosted in NYC), and my first host turned me down last minute (shitty batman). I did meet a great Canadian girl named Teagan and got to go to a Spanish bar for the game. SWEET.

I found this grafitti!

What's up grafitti in the grass.

Firenze has some interesting points, don't get me wrong. I rode busses for free all day long (I do that in other countries, too, though). And I got to see a really beauteous cemetery. I met a random salesman who offered me a job on Long Island (haha YEAH RIGHT FUNNY), I got accosted by an elderly gentleman, pretended to be deaf, he followed me for a while. Italians are MAD weird. But.

The second night, I was hosted by an affluent, modern, Italian gentleman named Lenny, who was by far one of the most rich couchsurfers I have ever met. His apartment looked like a presidential suite and it was on the top floor of a historically relevant building. Uhh...yeah it was crazy. Not to mention his 30923947234 funtions shower and deliciously king-sized bed. Such a sweetheart. And that SALAD!

I really love men who cook me shit.

Anyways, I'm on my way to Fes tomorrow so I will write you more from Morocco! Habiiiiiibi. Oh man. I can't wait. Good times. No money. Spain is gonna be a fucking riot.

GO SPAIN!

Married life.

2010-06-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

I finally made it to Vienna.

And it was all for my husband! :) The train from Budapest to Vienna was nice, but annoyingly $$$$$. Andreas didn't get any of my facebook messages before I left, so I arrived and I found myself disoriented at a station I had never seen before. I found an internet cafe, and discoved I was only 10 minutes away from Andrea's apartment. I immediately ran there, rang the doorbell, and found my husband! It was love at 520938049th sight.

He was pretty busy with work, but I had some quality time watching FOOTBALL! and playing with his roommate and getting denied a bus ticket to florence. I didn't take any pictures in Vienna, but at least here's one of me and my hubby:

We have cuteish tendencies.

On to Firenze, on to meet a couchsurfer who call himself "batman"...wtf.

Budapest! It's a crazy party.

2010-06-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, what a lovely city. Oh the lovely day I spent with you was sooooo lovely. It was great to see Balint, great to see some Hungarians in action, great to do so many illegal things and get yelled at by police the 4th time this trip!

More later, I promise.

ovo je balkan...

2010-06-18T08:04:00.000-07:00

So, one of the shocking parts about Belgrade is the fact that there are three or four adminstrative buildings that have yet to be fixed after the U.S bombed them in 1999. This is mainly because the city doesn't have the $$, but it also makes an impact on unsuspecting tourists like, say...me.
Take, for example, this one...

Mangled.

The thing is, I haven't seen something so ugly looking since 9/11. But do I really want to think that the U.S has been making small 9/11s all over the world and we are just babies? Probably.
This kind of image, in a modern, thriving, beautiful city like Belgrade...is rather shocking, and I can just leave it at that.

There are, however, really untouched and glorious parts of the city, like the pedestrian walkway and the lake...

I really do love the sun.

The lake in Belgrade has an amazing fountain,
which you can travel under using paddle boat.

Anyway, I've now arrived in Vienna, finally, and staying with my husband, Andreas. I would like to attempt to clean his house but I'm really involved in the World Cup now. Shit...

Until the next!

WORLD CUP 2010!!!

2010-06-17T06:58:00.000-07:00

I just cried during the U.S national anthem during the opening of their second game in the world cup. What a ridiculous situation.

50 belgrades celsius

2010-06-15T05:10:00.000-07:00

Ok so might I mention first of all that Serbia is a hot country? I mean, hot in the temperature sense...honestly how many people knew this when I told them I was visiting it? I don't hate the heat but I really thought it was cool here. It's been like 100 degrees every day...

WHICH MAKES FOR GREAT SWIMMING and LAKE EXPERIENCE!!

Let's recap a bit on how I got here:

1. Greeks go on train strike. At midnight. My train leaves at six, and I'm already at the station. Bummer. So, I sleep over at the Thessaloniki train station (which involved meeting a deaf family, two Bulgarians who gave me coffee, and a couple of homeless Iraqi guys who freaked out when I spoke some Arabic to them).

2. Waited for the international office to open, so I can ask about possible bus tickets to Belgrade instead...

3. Met a bunch of Kosovars who offered to let me ride with them to Skopje, the capital of Macedonia. Skopje is a stop on the train to Belgrade, so I bought a ticket there and waited eight hours for the train to Belgrade, which then took another 10 hours (awesome).

4. Met some crazy Americans and got a compartment in the train with them. Got drunk. Hit on Customs man.

5. Got to Belgrade at 7:30 am. Perisa was waiting for me, which was nice.

All in a day of travelling.

As it turns out, Belgrade is really big, with very useful transportation, and a wonderful pedestrian walkway. Lots of adorable architecture, parks, and people. Although I should restrain myself a bit more with men, as I got into trouble on Saturday night (a bit too much party and a little too much shoe loss).

Pictures to come.

a word about couchsurfing...

2010-06-09T10:16:00.000-07:00

Couchsurfing is a social networking tool for the coolest people on earth, otherwise known as poor travelers. We talk to each other, read and leave references for each other, and offer our homes as places to stay or request the couches of hosts while abroad. Totally free, slightly creepy, not at all dangerous, but most of all fun, it's a lifestyle I discovered in Jamaica and haven't stopped living since.

I've couchsurfed over 15 couches (made really great friends), have met over 60 couchsurfers, and hosted almost 25 couchsurfers when I lived in New York. It makes me feel like a world citizen more than anything else ever, and not once have I encountered someone who wasn't infinitely more awesome, trusting, and talented than me. Haha...I love it.

I don't know if I'll be couchsurfing anymore this summer, having friends in almost every place next I'm travelling to--but I SERIOUSLY hope to get stranded somewhere and end up meeting a whole new crew of totally chill people. Really, couchsurfing life is something I'll never let go of...:D

Hope that's enough explanation for now...!

thessaloniki!

2010-06-04T10:00:00.000-07:00

Istanbul train station? Hell no, track work!!

Took a bus (13 hours) to Thessaloniki, Greece, much to my regret--I really wanted to stay in Istanbul forever!! Of course I'll miss the beautiful nightlife...

Here you can see a couple of great mosques and the galatta tower...

But you know, I have a friend from Bard in Thessaloniki and his wonderful family was nice enough to host me and my baggage for almost a week; they were such sweethearts and his mom = a GREAT COOK. I hated zucchini until Greece. Wtf? Now I'm obsessed with zucchini. Explain that.

Unfortunately it took forever to get to the beach, but Paris was nice enough to lend me his sister's bathing suit (totally not awkward). And it was a grand time. I need to stop being so fat though or else I'll never make it on the cover of Elle magazine. Shitty...

At least my purse and shoes are cute (thanks mom)!!

As is this GREAT BOY named PARIS!! :D

And now, to Belgrade...Serbia...

istanbeautifullll

2010-06-01T09:43:00.000-07:00

Istanbul. A beautiful, sexy city full of cute men and crazy chicks. I arrived to find Husso, my Turkish contact, patiently waiting for me at the bus stop from the airport, he took me here.

Husso and I spent 8 lovely days together in and out of his apartment, he's a great guy with a beautiful soooooul...

Istanbul was truly amazing; cheap, great drinks, awesome couchsurfing experience because everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to get to know you, and usually offers you a drink after. Unbelievable food, friendliness--I hope everyone sees Turkey some day. I really think it's great. I wish I could have stayed longer but....GREECE WAS CALLING!

The question of inchworms

2010-05-17T07:14:00.000-07:00

Why are they crawling all over my laptop? Where are they coming from? They hang from the ceiling and then somehow start inching across the keyboard. This is ridiculous.

In other news, bought a purse for my trip, stole a backpack from friend Sasha, might steal her camera too.

Itinerary, maybe:

Istanbul
Thessaloniki
Sofia
Belgrade
Budapest
Vienna
Florence
Corsica
Fes
Grananda
Barcelona
Bilbao
Bordeaux
Berlin
London.

Three months. Yeah, right.

I do not know shit about blogging.

2010-05-07T18:39:00.001-07:00

The reason I'm doing it is because I feel like I have an interesting story to tell.

Right now, I don't have a place to live for next semester, because I'm too broke to deposit money somewhere and pay rent over the summer, I'll be on a big trip this year and I'd rather just come back to a nice, peaceful, CHAOS. So I am intentionally not securing my future and leaving the question of "housing" completely open.

A friend of mine, Katherine, offered to let me live in her basement for a few weeks.

The spiders in her house are roughly the size of a hand. I might have to buy a harpoon.

link to amazon's harpoon selection.

anyways...first entry. I'm not scared.