Are you lost? Where are you from? Do you want to see my carpets?

It is currently 11:30 PM on Sunday night in Istanbul and I am sitting here in the Sabiha airport, surrounded by my unwieldy luggage and my fellow weary travelers. I got here two hours ago and my flight is not until 3:30 AM, but I had no other choice because this airport is supposedly 80 km from the center of Istanbul and I had to take a special shuttle to get here. Let me just say that my mother was not happy when she found out that my airport was quite far from the city and my flight was not until 3:30 in the morning, but that’s what you get when you fly discount airlines! Yes, I survived a whole day in Istanbul by myself and even made some friends in the process. Let me start with the beginning.

I’d been dying to go to Istanbul for a long while now, and I finally had the opportunity to go . . . I also figured I’d score major brownie points with my students if I went to Turkey, although most of them are not from the Istanbul area (and this was not a big motivation anyway). According to Jimmy, an infamous man I met here, “Turkish people in Berlin are not Turkish, they’re Kurdish.” He does not look too favorably on them, it seems (surprise surprise, if you’ve been paying any attention to Turkey and the Kurdish “problem” recently). Anyway, after a lovely 2.5 weeks at home and three days in Boston, I flew to Istanbul instead of going back to Berlin. My mom was working the flight, that way I could stay at the hotel with her for two nights for free. When we got into Istanbul, we napped a bit, then went into town to go to the Grand Bazaar. It really is confusing! There are over 2,600 shops, and because they all sell similar merchandise, it is so easy to get lost. We were on a mission—to find Jimmy, merchant extraordinaire. Jimmy is famous with the Delta crowd. He’s also been in the Post and the NYT. So many Delta people go there that he has all this Delta stuff displayed on his stall. He knows several flight attendants really well, and it just so happens that some were there at the same time as us, so we got treated to wraps and Turkish apple tea. I got a pair of earrings that I am looking forward to showing off at a fancy occasion.

Jimmy, me, my mom, and three other Delta flight attendants in front of Jimmy's stall. Notice the Delta and U.S.-related stuff on top. Also, notice that Jimmy doesn't have the stereotypical Turkish look.










Every seen me wearing one of my many pashminas? Here's where they come from! Another Delta-frequented place.

















The Turkish flag and flags of some man hanging from the ceiling of the Grand Bazaar. You see this crescent moon and star graffitied all over the place at my school--on desks, chalkboards, chairs, etc.

Jeff's shop, with lots of bracelets, necklaces, keychains, and other trinkets. Jeff is the third in the Delta triumverate.

On Day 2 we hit most of the touristy stuff. We first went to the Ayasofia, or Hagia Sophia, or St. Sophia, or Holy Wisdom, depending on who you ask, where Hasan gave us a tour. That place is magnificent! So huge, and the combination of Christian and Muslim decorations is quite fascinating. Of course, they weren’t really ever there at the same time until Ataturk (my students’ biggest hero) turned it into a museum. The Muslims had all the Christian stuff covered up with plaster, not necessarily because they were Christian (Islam shares a lot of religious figures with Christianity, after all), but because of their no-icons policy.

Outside the Hagia Sophia.

My tour guide and me in front of some stained-glass windows. As you can see, he was really short! And doing the Hagia Sophia without a tour guide would be such a waste--there's no real info in there about what you're seeing. So a bunch of Turkish guys hang around outside and ask if you want a tour. A good investment.

A part of the ceiling and some big round things that say things like Allah and Muhammad in Arabic.

A mosaic of Jesus, Mary, and John (?), which was of course covered when the Hagia Sophia became a mosque.

Making a wish. If you can turn your thumb 360 degrees in this whole, your wish will come true. I actually forgot to make a wish, but I think many have already come true, so it must have worked!

After the Hagia Sophia we were off to the Basilica Cistern, which was quite cool—in the literal sense. There are a bunch of columns and the water with huge fish swimming around. Not the most ideal place for pictures, but here are some:

Outside the Cistern, founded 532 A.D.

Columns and the water inside the cistern.

Fish in the water. These guys are obviously very well fed!

We then hit up the Blue Mosque, which we couldn’t see earlier because it was closed for prayer (which, as anyone who knows even a little about Islam knows, happens five times daily). We had to take off our shoes and I think were supposed to cover our heads, but because we were tourists we got away with being disrespectful. It was quite strange to see a women-only section at the back behind a gate. The men were praying at the front or crouched listening to a few men chant something in Arabic.

Me outside the Blue Mosque. Why isn't it blue?

Ablutions outside the Blue Mosque. All (Muslim) men must wash their feet before entering a mosque.

Now you might be able to see why it's called the Blue Mosque--the tiles are blue. You can see men listening to chanting at the front.

Men praying.

My mom left the next day and I set off to see Topkapi Palace, which is an expansive set of courtyards and palace buildings. I found all the artifacts interesting, especially the religious ones. I apparently saw the beard of Joseph, the staff of Moses, and some things relating to Abraham and Muhammad (I could have these switched around, but the point is there was really really old stuff from OT people . . . and Muhammad). No religious fanatics were there though (darn).

The entrance to the first courtyard, complete with military guards.

Some colorful tiles at Topkapi.

The view from Topkapi across the Golden Horn.

I spent the rest of the day just walking around and taking in the sights. I especially liked walking along Galata Bridge, which crosses the Golden Horn. There was a continuous line on each side of men fishing, and at the end of one side there was a small but lively fish market. When it came time to eat, I discovered just how much better Berlin Doener is (the real stuff). For dessert I asked to join some American college students I had just seen in a shop—no use sitting alone when I can have some perfectly good company!

Men fishing off the Galata Bridge (which crosses the Golden Horn), with a mosque in the background.

The fish market. Tasty!

While Istanbul is not my first experience with a non-Western culture (and certainly not my first experience with the Turkish culture, considering my students and the neighborhood where my school is), I found it to be so totally different than anything I had seen before. First, all you have to do is look at the skyline and see just how many minarets there are all over the place. Mosque after mosque after mosque. This becomes especially evident during the call to prayer. Each mosque blasts a call to prayer at the same time (although certainly not synchronized), causing an awesome effect when in the vicinity of several mosques. I was on the Galata Bridge during one call to prayer, and I must have heard like 10 calls to prayer. People also obviously look different here too (although more than a handful of Turks could pass for Anglo-Saxons!), and I was overwhelmed by the number of women wearing full-on burkas, only showing their eyes and noses. (didn’t see any with the eyes covered though) The majority of women who choose to wear religious clothing choose the headscarf over the burka though. I’d say the majority of younger women are scarf-free (although not by much), and a majority of older women wear the scarf. I saw several families in which one woman wore a burka, one wore a headscarf, and one wore nothing. Turkey has really been pushing for secularization, but I can’t say if they’re achieving it all that quickly. Probably loads more secular than it used to be!

A bunch of Turkish girls wearing headscarves outside the Blue Mosque.

My absolute favorite thing about Istanbul is how downright friendly the people are. I felt completely safe here—much more than in other, Western cities—and even wanted to stop and chat with all the men who came up to us on the street, although I used my better judgment and didn’t in most cases. I’m serious, you can’t walk anywhere without getting talked to. When I first got off the bus on the first day, I noticed I was being stared at quite a bit, and then looked around and noticed 1) only men and 2) no obvious foreigners. I attribute the staring to that (although I did get told by a waiter at one restaurant I went to that I’m beautiful—after I paid—but I’m sure he went and told the overweight old lady next to me that on her way out). And then when I hit Sultanahmet Square, I was bombarded with “where are you from” and “do you want to see my carpets” and “do you need help.” Always willing to give directions, even though I was never willing to look at carpets. And waiters stand in the street trying to get you to come in and eat—they’re quite relentless, and so nice that it made me sad to ignore them. Everyone has gone out of his way to be nice to me: the men currently sitting next to me at the airport, who speak to me in broken German because they think I’m German; the bus driver; random guys on the street telling us “you have to know this if you are in Istanbul” when we were doing the wrong thing on the tram. (I wonder if Turkish women are also really nice?) The guys at the Delta-frequented shops were the nicest of all, even calling everyone they knew about getting to the airport and offering to hang out with me late at night if I felt unsafe. Actually, I think the nicest guy of all was a man selling crafts at a train station. I had totally run out of lira (stupid souvenirs!) and asked if he could give me lira for Euro, and he just gave me lira and refused my money. That inspires me to be nicer to people . . . hope I don’t eat my words soon . . .

So yeah, I like Istanbul a lot, for all its East-meets-West qualities and the wonderful people who live here. I look forward to heading back to my current home, Berlin, but that means I have to be at school in 12 hours. I’m not ready to have work again!

Turks love their yogurt!

Wie ich die Ferien in Kalifornien und Boston verbracht habe

(Wrote this from the airport in Istanbul on Sunday night, after the post that will come next.)

I don’t want to write too much about my Christmas vacation, except to say that I had a fabulous time. Many of the Fulbrighters I know in Berlin didn’t go home for Christmas because they were afraid they wouldn’t get back on the plane when it came time to return (although one was indeed on my flight on the way to NY). If Christmas had been in September or October, I might have had that same fear. But I have found my place in Berlin and look forward to seeing friends again—it’s been four weeks since I’ve seen any of them! And I hope I didn’t forget any German . . .

At home I pretty much just vegged out and ate and watched TV and did nothing. My aunt and uncle came for a few days and celebrated Christmas with us. Went to one of the many Christmas services at Saddleback and saw Chuck Colson speak right before I left! Oh, my brother moved out! It’s a miracle! We are all so proud of him. He’s got an even better job with Cox in Phoenix. Still waiting for him to come visit me in Berlin . . . Let’s see, what else, I hung out with a few friends from high school, smoked all of them in poker, lost all of my money at blackjack at Pechanga, saw the best movie of 2007 (Juno—but what do I know, I’ve seen like five movies from 2007). My dad didn’t work the whole time, which to me was a good thing. It was nice to be around him a lot. And I really enjoyed harassing my dog, probably too much. Is it sad that I miss him more than the rest of my family? It’s not like I really miss him more, I just miss his physical presence more. I can talk to my parents on Skype and be happy, but I can’t just play with the dog. It tortures me sometimes to see so many cute dogs walking the streets in Berlin. My mom and I have gotten really bad—Beau now has a preppy sweater, a pumpkin Halloween costume, a Santa hat and collar, and a “Tuff Dog” shirt. We are pathetic!

Saddleback Christmas service. So good to be back, especially since I've become used to 10 people sitting around a CD player for church.











My dad and Beau. My dad is holding Beau like that because my mom and I freaked him out by barking and stomping and making weird noises. Yes, there is something very wrong with my family. But isn't the dog cute?















Me and the precious Beau. He's wearing his preppy sweater, and he looks possessed. He is probably thinking, when is this girl leaving again? I just want to go back to my normal schedule of lying around and not getting harassed!








I am really glad that I went back to Harvard to visit friends and the law school. It was so hectic, but so worth it. People seemed enthusiastic about seeing me again—even people I wouldn’t think would have gone out of their way to see me, like my favorite ling TF—and at times I pretty much felt like a celebrity. Haha, without the fame. Or infamy. Darn. It made me more excited to go back to Harvard for law school (95% sure), although don’t get me wrong, I am scared to death that I am going to be the dumbest person HLS has ever seen, that I’m going to fall prey to the Socratic method and the horrific exams that 1Ls were conveniently tackling as I was visiting. Sigh.

Well, I think they are about to start calling for check in for my flight, and since I’ve now been here three hours, it would be a shame not to be one of the first. Catch you in Berlin!

HA-HO-HE HERTHA BSC!

Patricia, a friend from home, came and visited this past weekend on the second-to-last stop of her tour of Poland, Hungary, Austria, the Czech Republic, and Germany (how jealous am I?!). We did lots of typical touristy things, and also enjoyed taking part in some Christmas traditions, like going to the Weihnachtsmarkt at Gendarmenmarkt, but by far the best thing we did was go to THE HERTHA BSC-FC BAYERN MUENCHEN GAME! It totally fell into our laps, and we were so lucky because the game was sold out, even though the stadium holds over 72,400 people. We went through the New Berlin walking tour, and so we had a “guide” (Patricia would have married him on the spot if possible and I assured her that most German guys really are this attractive), plus his friends and some Australian guys on the tour. I’d never been to the Jesse Owens Olympic Stadion (from the 1936 Olympics), so that was neat in itself, but being at the game was awesome! FC Bayern Muenchen is the best team in the league, so we (haha, how quickly I consider myself a Berliner—I even have my own Hertha scarf now) were supposed to get our butts kicked, but the score was just 0-0. I would have liked for there to be a goal, just so that I could see how the rowdies celebrate, but I had enough fun chanting “HA-HO-HE HERTHA BSC!” with all the other fans. I also enjoyed the men behind us—thanks to them, Patricia learned such words as “Nein!,” “Lauf! Lauf! Lauf!,” “Mann!,” and, the most used of all, “Scheisse!”

We started off the weekend with a trip to my favorite German-food restaurant


















We also waited in line for an hour at the Reichstag

And enjoyed the Hertha game!

I took more touristy photos than Patricia, despite living here for four months already!

And of course I had to take another food shot at Cafe November in Prenzlauer Berg. The food was amazing!

Patricia's loot at Aldi. Gotta love Haribo!

I went to see Der Nussknacker last night! I had been looking forward to this since I bought the tickets in November, and the music definitely did not disappoint. The choreography and story were a little different (the girl’s name was Marie, not Clara, and there were no mice, in addition to some funky changes here and there), but the second act made it so worth it. I love the scenes with all the different countries’ dances. And it reminded me a little of my yearly treks to the Boston Pops (and to the Nutcracker one year)—was great to keep the tradition going.

A guy from my freshman dorm was randomly in Berlin for two days, and because my schedule has been so packed, we met at 10:45 last night for a drink. It was nice to see a familiar face and speak English without worrying about the other person understanding all the nuances. And because of his job, he’ll probably be coming back again soon, can’t wait!

Oh yeah, I made a gingerbread house, from REAL gingerbread! That was a lot of fun, but my team did not win the competition. And we (by we I mean I) set our treats on fire and didn’t notice until the other tables started yelling. Oops. Let’s see, other Christmas-y things I have done. I went to the Berlin pro-life Christmas dinner last week, and it was nice to see that the pro-life movement is alive in Berlin! And not everyone is over 70. We met above a Catholic church in PBerg, and incidentally Patricia went to mass here on Sunday, and when I picked her up I was amazed at how packed the church was and how many children were running around. A major magazine here just published a cover article called something like “God is alive in Prenzlauer Berg,” and I could really see that the church there had a vibrant community. Anyway, I also went to the Poznan Boys Choir Christmas concert at the Berliner Dom last week. So good that I bought the CD. It’s amazing when boys have such high voices! I also went to the Humboldt Universitaet Christmas concert because two friends were in it. They were also really good—but it was funny to hear them sing an African-American spiritual. I’d leave it to Kuumba.

These past two weeks I’ve been teaching my students about Christmas in America, which has given me insight into how little many of them know about Christmas in general. Most are Muslim, and most don’t celebrate Christmas the way atheists and Jewish people in America, for example, would. Not even with a token Christmas tree or lights. Germans open presents on Christmas Eve, not on Christmas Day, so I’ve been seeing lots of gift bags that say 24.12 on them. A teacher at my school was telling me you can hire “Father Christmas” to come to your house on Christmas Eve and deliver the presents to your kids. Her daughter never caught on that the first few years, Santa had her grandfather’s voice, then the next few years it was always a different person, and then recently he barely could speak German. They told her that the German Santa was sick, so the Finnish Santa stepped in and took his place. I think this tradition should be brought to the U.S.—it’s better than sitting on Santa’s lap, which children here do not do. What I’ve found really interesting is that Germans are really open about saying Merry Christmas. Even my professors at university have said it. Maybe they also did at Harvard, but if I remember correctly, they were much more conscious of not offending anyone and therefore said “Happy Holidays,” if anything at all. But yeah, despite the fact that most of my students do not celebrate Christmas, they and the teachers wish each other a merry Christmas.

Anyway, that’s it for now. I know I’ve forgotten a lot, but I’d like to take a little nap before it’s time to celebrate Christmas with my tandem partner, roommate, and our extended family in our house before we all head off to our respective homes for the holidays. Thursday night I should be back sleeping in my own bed! (Although after less than two cumulative months home since the beginning of college, I don’t know what “my own bed” means anymore . . . )

Oh yeah, how could I forget—I got into Harvard Law last week! And Georgetown. I definitely did not expect the Harvard acceptance, and certainly not this early in the game. I am seriously flabbergasted. My acceptance was almost four years to the day that I got my Harvard College acceptance. How funny. And how truly blessed I continue to be!

Old photo of me and my tandem partner.

Weihnachtszeit in Berlin

An extensive photo essay on Christmastime in Berlin (When is Blogger going to stop me from posting so many pictures? The amount of space they give is awesome!):

A store by my apartment. Still not sure what they sell, but it looks like a disco from the outside.











The Swarovski Christmas tree in the main train station


















A ton of angels walking down the street. If Germans had sororities, I would imagine their members to do stuff like this.









A nativity scene at the Gendarmenmarkt Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas market)












This is why I love Germany!













I don't blame them for dressing like this, it was FREEZING!












At the entrance to the Gendarmenmarkt Christmas market. Ignore the crazy hair--this weather has given me lots of hat head and other unflattering photo hair.











An Advent windmill-thing at the Finnish Christmas market in the Kulturbrauerei in Prenzlauer Berg. Advent is big here--you wish people a happy 1st/2nd/3rd/4th Advent depending on what Sunday it is.















An over-zealous Christmas gnome fan lives in this apartment in Prenzlauer Berg.












The Christmas market at Potsdamer Platz, complete with sledding hill!













The gorgeous Christmas tree in front of the Brandenburg Gate. If you can't already tell, Berlin has no qualms about having Christmas decorations everywhere. I never once saw anything related to Hanukkah or the upcoming Muslim holiday on Thursday (I believe it's Eid in Arabic, something like Bayram in Turkish)












My team and our hastily built gingerbread house at the Humboldt Christmas Stammtisch. With me are a Hungarian and a French Belgian, plus two Americans (another Fulbright teacher and a guy who studied ling with me at Harvard).









A toy soldier on Kudamm


















This is closer to the German idea of what St. Nicholas would look like (not a fatso like in the U.S.).
















A huge Advent calendar at the Marriott. Germans love Advent calendars. I just wish there were huge amounts of chocolate in those bags!















Santa and a Christmas tree, made completely out of Legos, at the Sony Center.












The Christmas market in the Schlossplatz, along Unter den Linden across from Humboldt. I assume this is the biggest.











A sign on the Staatsoper for Der Nussknacker (the Nutcracker), which I had the fortune of seeing!


















An ice skating rink on Unter den Linden, just outside the building where my classes meet.












All the trees are decorated down Unter den Linden!

Adorable people who make shit

Funny English-related things:

My students’ English abilities vary widely, with some of them barely understanding a word of instructions and others reading Shakespeare (with a little help, since when’s the last time one of you could read Shakespeare and understand everything?). But I realized that even the most “clever” of classes (I HATE how the German teachers always use “clever” when they mean “smart” or “high-achieving”) don’t quite get the nuances of English. My favorite lesson so far is when I gave one class 10 articles from the Onion and asked them to read them and tell me if anything seemed strange. One article was about the Treasury Department desperately needing ones and fives. Another was about children getting all their vitamins from McDonald’s hamburgers. There was one about a Barnes and Noble in Cambodia that was really popular—people were using the bathrooms to sponge-bathe and the books to build shelter. Another was about JFK being shot by Lee Harvey Oswald, LBJ, Malcolm X, and like ten other people at about 158 different angles. My absolute favorite was about the Berlin Wall being torn down as a part of a Doritos-sponsored Super Bowl halftime show. You would think that the students (from Berlin!) would figure out this was a hoax. You would think! The only ones who caught on were the girls who had the JFK story. They all just assumed that whatever’s in a newspaper must be true. It was funny to see their embarrassment when I explained the stories to them.

A few funny instances. One student kept repeatedly telling me I was adorable. After awkward thanks on my part, I finally asked him what exactly he meant, and when he told me “nice” and I told him what “adorable” generally means, he blushed deeply. This is my teacher’s pet sorta student—he has never missed any of my after-school sessions and he constantly expresses his gratitude for the chance to speak with a real American. And then he gets so excited that he forgets what he’s saying. But he watches so many movies that he knows all these sophisticated words that none of the other students has picked up on. Problem is, he uses them in all the wrong places. Cf. “adorable” above.

Another of my students was telling me how her mom is a lawyer, and when I asked what kind, she said that she works with “the people who made shit.” I found that hilarious, but apparently there is a German phrase “Scheisse bauen,” which means to cause trouble. I took that to mean she is a defense attorney. We both had a good laugh over this one. (Speaking of “Scheisse,” it really does not have the strength that “shit” in English has, and thus teachers and students constantly say “shit” where I would have used “crap” or “poop.”)

I am glad that the students at my school seem to be genuinely happy that I am there, always greeting me (more like shouting across the hall) and asking me how I’m doing. The funny thing is they freak out when I ask them something in return (How are you?). They don’t expect that and then just stare at me until I say “you’re doing well?” One student was being particularly helpful while I was looking for a class last week and his friend told me, “I just want to say that he is single.” Thanks for the head’s up, next time I find a 16-year-old German girl looking for a boyfriend, I will let her know that there is a single boy roaming the halls (he’s never in class!). Anyway, it’s cool to walk into a classroom and get shout-outs. Some of my students also think that my name is “Meggy,” which I have always hated, but for some reason it’s not so bad coming from them. Also, standing in front of a classroom, you realize how obvious that whole “if I don’t look at the teacher she won’t call on me” shtick is. I have to admit that sometimes I am evil and call on the one who looks the most scared.

Another thing. I catch the teachers at my school making mistakes in English all the time. Sometimes it takes everything in my power not to correct a teacher, because when I do, the students go “oooooh” and then discredit the teacher’s English ability. Several students have tried to get me to tell them that their teacher’s English is not that good, but they really are fluent. Anyway, the mistakes are not that egregious, and they generally have to do with pronunciation (because English is whack in that respect!). For example, I have heard several people pronounce “accompany” as if it ended with the sound “eye.” And a fun game—try to get a German to say “twentieth.” I think it’s an impossible feat. But one thing I have noticed is that no matter the time of the day, the teachers address the students with “Good morning,” and thus whenever I see a student, he tells me the same.

One thing I love about hearing Germans make mistakes when they speak English is that it gives me insight into German. When they make a mistake, it’s usually because they say it that way in German. My tandem partner has also found this to be the case with my mistakes in German.

Being so entrenched in German, I actually have difficulty speaking English sometimes. It usually has to do with vocabulary—I have either completely forgotten the English word, or the German word is so much more efficient that I use it instead. I wish I could think of examples . . . Also, when my students ask me to translate a word from German into English, I realize just how much more efficient German is. The vocabulary is just so darn precise—you know exactly what a word means by its parts. English, not so much. I then translate it literally—for example, “rolling/moving stairs” for “Rolltreppe”—and then can’t figure out what the heck the real English word is (in this case, “escalator”). I suppose “escalator” is also somewhat literal, but I would argue that “Rolltreppe” is even more so.

Also, a question for you all: What do you take “run amok” to mean? In German, “Amok laufen” is to go on a shooting rampage, like at a school or a mall. I was convinced that “to run amok” in English really just means to cause trouble, but my teacher insists that it indicates an extreme amount of violence. What is your take? This is one of those cases where I have to remind them that I am just one person, and my knowledge of English is just that, mine, not an authoritative look at the language. This goes especially with pronunciation, vowels in particular. I’ve got the whole California collapse of vowels thing going on.

Alright, that was a little look at my “Engrish”-like experiences. I have been in some really funny situations, and I can’t seem to remember many of them, but I will try to do a better job of writing them down in the future. I also need to talk about what I actually do as an English teacher. I’ve also got a post about my classes at Humboldt in mind. Stay tuned!