Cruising

I can still taste the salt from the Black Sea on my lips. The blotchy burn across my stomach is a further memento from today's cruise on the Bosporus and Black sea. I spent the better part of the afternoon and evening lying on the roof of our small, 15-passenger boat soaking in the Mediterranean sunshine and reapplying sun protection.

Friend snapped this while I was busy getting sun burned.

This is the kind of water in which we cruised... amazing, no?

Our first stop was a Byzantine-Ottoman fortification somewhat imprecisely named the "Geonose Castle". Before the Byzantines set up there, the Greeks called the area Hieron ("sacred"); archaeological remains evidence the earlier presence of a temple to Zeus. When Constantinople fell in 1453, the Ottomans drove out the castle's Genoese occupiers (who had taken the castle from the Ottomans in 1414). This was largely due to the castle's strategic significance: Byzantine castles were usually built in pairs, one on each side of the Bosporus. During sieges, the castles could suspend chains across the water (from one fortification to the other), thereby completely controlling all sea traffic. Interestingly, the castle is considered the architectural and strategic equivalent of Chateau-Gaillard, one of Richard the Lionhearted's castles on the Sienne River. We hiked 25-minutes uphill to reach the castle, but the view from the top was ample reward.

The Geonose Castle

Between the castle and lunch some members of our group attempted to swim the Bosporus. This was never something I considered doing. The currents in the Bosporus are strong and run in multiple directions. Couple a strenuous 30 minute swim with choppy water and the threat of being run over by a 20-story high oil tanker and you can imagine why I opted to continue lying on top of the boat.

I know you want to see the boat Dad... the other half of our group was on this vessel, but ours was the same (only it was green). I spent the day lying in the shadow of the Turkish flag...

Our second stop was lunch. What had been billed on our agenda as a "simple fish lunch" was in fact a feast of meze, salad, various fried things, fish that had been pulled from the water only hours before our arrival and plates of fruit. Drinks were also included and the dry white Turkish wine I drank was surprisingly good. The restaurant was on the water and looked like the casual sort of restaurant you find on most beaches. We sat for three hours, feeling more and more like we were really -- finally -- on the Mediterranean.


Swimming in the Bosporus intensified the feeling. The water was cool, but not cold and very, very salty. I know this because I swallowed quite a bit of it in the course of trying to keep my head above the choppy water. I was surprised at how much energy just keeping myself afloat took. The currents were strong; by the time I pulled myself onto the boat after 25 minutes of treading water and small bouts of swimming my arms shook with fatigue.

I returned to the top of the boat, covered in salt. Sun, the ocean, diet coke, hours spent lying around half-naked -- to be honest, I can't think of any way the day could have been improved. The world is so blue on the Bosporus, slower too I think. Perhaps all of that is cliche... but there was something about the beauty of the water and the sun atop that small boat that made me think Istanbul and I are really starting to get to know one another.

Mental Health

I woke up yesterday morning with an adventure in mind that did not include attending class. Until now, I have had perfect attendance, even going so far as to attend every monotonous hour of language lab (where we wear headphones and repeat sentence after sentence... for an hour...). So I slept in until 8, waved good bye to my roommates as they headed to class and made it to the Grand Bazaar, also known as the Kapalı Çarşa, by 11am.

The Kapalı Çarşa has somewhere around 4000 stalls. Its seemingly endless rows are covered by a series of domes. The bazaar has "streets" supposedly themed by product -- leather, ceramics, gold -- but mostly you have to explore to find what and you want at the price you want. And by explore I mean become lost in the maze of small shops, all of which start to look the same after an hour or two. This is mostly because many of the shops carry the exact same things: the same shawls, the same tea sets, the same strange Turkish slippers.

Prices at the Grand Bazaar are flexible -- never accept the first price. In fact, haggling usually begins at 50% of the first price offered. I think this system, combined with the sometimes rather intense shopkeepers, makes many Americans uncomfortable. Most store owners stand outside their stores and attempt to lure shoppers in. Their typical lines range from "Buyrun!" (essentially "Look! Check it out!") to "Lady, beautiful lady, I have something you will like" to the more direct "I want to spend your money".

Women, I think, need to be in a very zen place to shop at the bazaar. I am not sure how many times I heard "Hello, I am looking for a girlfriend" or something about my "beautiful eyes". And of course, everyone wants to know where you are from. I am never from America. Usually I am Canadian or Irish. Once you start to speak Turkish, the questions typically increase and the prices go down. More than once, I have had my hand shaken after I reveal I am studying at Bosporus University, which I recently learned is the Turkish equivalent of Harvard. After they shake my hand, they ask who is paying my tuition (this question that is a lot less rude here than it is at home. In fact, talking about money isn't taboo at all and people often ask one another about their salary and rent.).

Yesterday was my third trip to the bazaar and by far the most productive. The first two times I visited I was too overwhelmed to buy much of anything, instead just scoping things out, making a mental list of potential gifts. I came, I saw and, yesterday, conquered. Of course, when I returned to campus I realized that I am still missing a few "crucial" items.

I suppose the Bazaar and I will meet again.

Again please, and perhaps slower...

The main campus of Boğaziçi University is a twenty minute walk from the Superdorm, which is actually the real name of the residence hall in which I am staying.

(Dorm is not a Turkish word. In fact, one of my favorite things about Turkish is that the word for dorm is yurt, as in "Genghis Khan lived in a larger yurt than the lesser tribal chiefs".)

Although I was advised that "summers in Istanbul are not oppressively hot" the humidity compensates for the moderate temperatures. The twenty minute walk, half of which follows a busy street, feels twice as long on the worst days and leaves us flushed and sweating by the time we reach our classrooms. The Turks seem comfortable, somehow fortified against the heat. Worse than that, the women somehow manage to look chic, despite the walk and lack of air conditioning. I meanwhile look wilted by 10am.

Classes officially started yesterday. From nine to one I sit in room 475, save for the occasional trip to the language lab. The instructors rotate from room to room throughout the day -- each day, our schedule rotates so that no two days of the week are the same. For example, on Mondays I have two hours of grammar, followed by one hour in the lab and then one hour of reading. Tuesdays begin with two hours of reading,followed by lab and finally an hour of writing. I can tell already that this pattern won't sink in until week five our so. Until it does, every hour is a surprise.

Regardless of the subject, my classes are uniformly exhausting. No more than ten words of English were spoken today. All lessons are conducted in Turkish -- fast Turkish -- and even words are defined by using examples, rather than the English definition. Staying tuned in all day is perhaps the most intellectually challenging thing I have ever attempted.

I should also mention that my collection of Turkish books has increased exponentially. I am now the proud owner of fourteen assorted workbooks, dictionaries and instruction manuals. I have the begining of quite a collection.