Thursday, June 30, 2005
Türkçe kahve
The last time I was this addicted to coffee was freshman year in college. Edgar and I would venture out from Simkins at odd hours of the day and night in search of that perfect blend. I couldn't start my day without my daily Americano from the RLM. Come nights, it was Mojo's or the Metro. A point came where without my daily dosage I had withdrawal symptoms, moodswings, sleepless nights; I was worse than addicted. Caffeine, especially in the form of coffee doesn't do too well for my addictive personality. Somehow, thanks to a godsent spell I just stopped one fine day and instead nurtured the tea-enthusiast in me.
A year ago, while in Brazil, I was in constant fear of a relapse. To my advantage however, I found coffee there a tad bit too sweet,strong and milkless for my liking. So I stuck to caipirinhas. Here I am, faced with a similar predicament again. Everytime Ulya brews a fresh pot for someone in the office, just a whiff of that intoxicating smell is enough to leave me drooling. Seconds later, like a little puppy craving milk, I hop over to her office and beg for yet another cup. Over the last week my consumption has steadily increased. Its all for a darn good reason though.
What makes the difference is in the way it is made. A small, long-handeled boiling pot called an ibrik or cevze is used to brew the coffee. Often times cardamom goes into the coffee when it is being ground. The end result is a unique, flavorful cup of dark coffee which after being consumed will leave a dark residue. As part of an age old tradition, the reading of one's fortune in the residue left behind in the cup is common, especially among women. No one here at work know how to do this though. Maybe, I can ask Kaan's mom to do it.
A year ago, while in Brazil, I was in constant fear of a relapse. To my advantage however, I found coffee there a tad bit too sweet,strong and milkless for my liking. So I stuck to caipirinhas. Here I am, faced with a similar predicament again. Everytime Ulya brews a fresh pot for someone in the office, just a whiff of that intoxicating smell is enough to leave me drooling. Seconds later, like a little puppy craving milk, I hop over to her office and beg for yet another cup. Over the last week my consumption has steadily increased. Its all for a darn good reason though.
What makes the difference is in the way it is made. A small, long-handeled boiling pot called an ibrik or cevze is used to brew the coffee. Often times cardamom goes into the coffee when it is being ground. The end result is a unique, flavorful cup of dark coffee which after being consumed will leave a dark residue. As part of an age old tradition, the reading of one's fortune in the residue left behind in the cup is common, especially among women. No one here at work know how to do this though. Maybe, I can ask Kaan's mom to do it.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Babylon Rewound
And phewww..back "home" in Adana after a hectic, unforgettable, action packed weekend in Southeastern Anatolia. This weekend was proof enough that by no means is two months adequate time to even attempt to do justice to a country that abounds in historical ruins, exotic culture and heritage, food, music, natural beauty and so much more. Words cannot do justice to recount the experience. Nonetheless, I shall try.
The Southeastern Anatolian Region comprises about thirteen or so cities in east Turkey and has borders with Syria and Iraq. Summers here are hot and dry. I look like charcoal now. We started off the tour at Gaziantep, where literally the "past and present live side by side." I realized from visiting the many museums, castles and ruins that the city has to offer how little I knew about the history of the people here. I seized the opportunity to brush up on Greek and Roman history. The remnants of the ancient city of Zeugma which have been transfered to a museum are a spectacular sight. The rest of the morning was spent checking out the numerous other historical sites in the city including Gaziantep Castle. From there, it was off to Rumkale where the lake joins the castle and the village; one of the finest views of the Euphrates valley.
The castle here, which is now only accesible by boat was built by the Armenians in the middle ages. By mid-afternoon the scorching heat was proving to be a stubborn adversary; I was so tempted to jump off the 50 foot clıff and swim in the lake. Am still not sure what stopped me.
Pictures were taken, stories were told after which we headed for Adiyaman. By the time we checked in to the hotel that night and showered it must have been about 1am. Minutes later, we were rudely woken up (around 2 am) to head to Nemrut Mountain to view the infamous sunrise. Why then were we up at 2 am? The road to Nemrut involved a 2 hour bus ride followed by a painful 20 minute walk to the top of the mountain at the most ungodly hour. Half asleep and completely short of breath at 2,150 m above sea level, amidst what seemed like gale force winds, I was not in the best of moods . Withing minutes my anger and desperation dissapeared The sun was about to rise.
From Urfa, we made our way to Harran to check out the beehieve houses and the first Islamic University ever built. The former are these cute looking, conical shaped houses built during the assyrian-babylonian period in 2000B.C. The science behind it is pretty simple I am told yet highly effective in keeping the scorching heat in the middle of the desert from coming in. At this point we were but a few miles away from the Syrian border. If the threat of visa problems didn't exist I am confident we could have made it across. Pity we couldn't, for otherwise I would have had another "illegal border crossing" under my belt. That night we were treated to an authentic Turkish traditional meal. We sat on the floor, were serenaded by a live band and got to do a lot of dancing.
Sunday came about and we made it to Mardin, a city located on the hills of the Mesopotamian plains and one that connects Turkey to both Syria and Iraq. Standing on top of the Dayrulzefaran monastery, I could see the desert plains that connected these three countries. The region, as per hearsay, dates back to the flood we were told. Most of the above towns are very traditional and orthodox. Many municipalities forbid the sale of any alcohol and women are always covered and clad in Burkhas, not something you see in most other cities in Turkey. After Mardin, it was a long bus ride (7 hours) back to Adana via Gaziantep.
My experience this past weekend shattered a lot of misconceptions I had about Turkish people, Islamic culture and also the roots of both Islam and Christanity. I am sleep deprived, fatigued but yet on a natural high and in a blissfull state of mind. At this stage in my life, I couln't ask for much more. Selam!
The Southeastern Anatolian Region comprises about thirteen or so cities in east Turkey and has borders with Syria and Iraq. Summers here are hot and dry. I look like charcoal now. We started off the tour at Gaziantep, where literally the "past and present live side by side." I realized from visiting the many museums, castles and ruins that the city has to offer how little I knew about the history of the people here. I seized the opportunity to brush up on Greek and Roman history. The remnants of the ancient city of Zeugma which have been transfered to a museum are a spectacular sight. The rest of the morning was spent checking out the numerous other historical sites in the city including Gaziantep Castle. From there, it was off to Rumkale where the lake joins the castle and the village; one of the finest views of the Euphrates valley.The castle here, which is now only accesible by boat was built by the Armenians in the middle ages. By mid-afternoon the scorching heat was proving to be a stubborn adversary; I was so tempted to jump off the 50 foot clıff and swim in the lake. Am still not sure what stopped me.Pictures were taken, stories were told after which we headed for Adiyaman. By the time we checked in to the hotel that night and showered it must have been about 1am. Minutes later, we were rudely woken up (around 2 am) to head to Nemrut Mountain to view the infamous sunrise. Why then were we up at 2 am? The road to Nemrut involved a 2 hour bus ride followed by a painful 20 minute walk to the top of the mountain at the most ungodly hour. Half asleep and completely short of breath at 2,150 m above sea level, amidst what seemed like gale force winds, I was not in the best of moods . Withing minutes my anger and desperation dissapeared The sun was about to rise.
There I was sitting on Mt. Nemrut sipping on a beer( apparently its a done thing), amidst ruins of the Kommagene Empire watching one of the most spectacular views of the sunrise on this planet. "In a cult inscription, King Antiochos declares that he had the site built for the ages and generations that were to follow him "as a debt of thanks to the gods and to his deified ancestors for their manifest assistance".
After a typical Turkish breakfast that consisted of cheese, bread, olives, tomatoes, butter, honey, ham and lots of tea, we hit the road again. This time to Sanliurfa, on the "great plain of High Mesopotamia.". This city proudly exhibits the legacy of all civilizations that have prospered in this region. We visited the cave where Abraham was born, a site flocked to by pilgrims from all over.
I picked up a poşu on the streetside, the traditional head garb worn by Arabs and Muslims alike. Everytime I introduce myself to people here, the first reaction this elicits is one of confusion and intrigue. In Turkish the country Syria is spelt Suriye and pronounced that way too. So people here ımmediately assume I am from Syria. Thus, most responses I get when I introduce myself are "ah where from?"or " are you from Damascus?". I need to find an alias because this ritual of explaining my name and country of origin in detail each time someone shakes my hand, or says hello (which is always) is most frustrating.
From Urfa, we made our way to Harran to check out the beehieve houses and the first Islamic University ever built. The former are these cute looking, conical shaped houses built during the assyrian-babylonian period in 2000B.C. The science behind it is pretty simple I am told yet highly effective in keeping the scorching heat in the middle of the desert from coming in. At this point we were but a few miles away from the Syrian border. If the threat of visa problems didn't exist I am confident we could have made it across. Pity we couldn't, for otherwise I would have had another "illegal border crossing" under my belt. That night we were treated to an authentic Turkish traditional meal. We sat on the floor, were serenaded by a live band and got to do a lot of dancing.Sunday came about and we made it to Mardin, a city located on the hills of the Mesopotamian plains and one that connects Turkey to both Syria and Iraq. Standing on top of the Dayrulzefaran monastery, I could see the desert plains that connected these three countries. The region, as per hearsay, dates back to the flood we were told. Most of the above towns are very traditional and orthodox. Many municipalities forbid the sale of any alcohol and women are always covered and clad in Burkhas, not something you see in most other cities in Turkey. After Mardin, it was a long bus ride (7 hours) back to Adana via Gaziantep.
My experience this past weekend shattered a lot of misconceptions I had about Turkish people, Islamic culture and also the roots of both Islam and Christanity. I am sleep deprived, fatigued but yet on a natural high and in a blissfull state of mind. At this stage in my life, I couln't ask for much more. Selam!
Sunday, June 19, 2005
yavash yavash öğreniyorum
By Thursday of last week the desire to escape to the beach was so strong I almost considered taking Friday off and bussing it to Mersin and finally Kizkalesi, about an hour away from Adana. Our grand plans to flee from the city all came crashing down when Adriano (Don Caffaso) fell ill on Friday night. That same night we treated ourselves to some killer Adana kebap while being serenaded by a live Turkish band who I presume were there because of the the wedding party sitting at the neighboring table. I have yet to learn about some of the instruments that were used. They used a couple of string instruments that I have never seen before and then there was the doumbek. Definitely, before I depart from these shores I will get one of my own and maybe even find someone to teach me the correct technique. How I love dreaming.
In a rapid turn of events, the focus of the weekend shifted dramatically to a number of different things, the most important of them being food. We experimented with a Turkish recipe Grace got a hold of (Imam Baildi- stuffed eggplant) and this was the outcome.
I finally got my fix of Nargile at this cafe situated behind my apartment. Its custom to accompany Nargile with çay (chai\tea); I prefer Effes or su (water). To make up for our previously failed attempt at escaping from the hustle and bustle of Adana, with much stronger conviction, we left for Tarsus by train on Sunday morning. Really, the train ride was quite short, about the same distance as travelling from Colaba to Khar. It was here that Cleopatra met Mark Antony and St. Paul was born. We moved on to the şelale (waterfall) from there and stopped for lunch. Generous amounts of fresh bread (similar to naan but with sesame seeds on it) are served with all meals. Also, yoghurt is eaten with most meals I have noticed either as Ayran lassi) or like a raitha (with cucmber and all). I had oven roasted lamb cooked with butter, garlic, tomatoes and peppers and washed it down with Tuborg (Danish).
On the way back to the train station I stepped into a convenient store to pick up some water. With my sun glasses and African beads I sure as hell looked foreign. On noticing this, the lady behind the deli requested me to try out some fresh baklava straight out of the oven. That stuff melted in my mouth and I made this quite obvious, so she gave me seconds. I managed to say "nice to meet you" and "thank you" in Turkish to her. She packed up four pieces for me, but only charged me for 2. Once back in Adana, we watched Brasil lose 0-1 to Mexico.
My project at work has taken a different turn, one that will involve expanding our current business to Iraq. Kaan explained to me how the war in Iraq has increased business for the company, not exactly what I wanted to hear. I saw some posters around the city that are protesting the American military base here in Adana, mostly youth groups who feel strongly about the issue.
Kaan's english is improving much faster than my Turkish. I need to make a conscious effort at learning constantly and avoid speaking in English. I am still getting used to this whole men kissing men business. With the ladies, its but a pleasure.
In a rapid turn of events, the focus of the weekend shifted dramatically to a number of different things, the most important of them being food. We experimented with a Turkish recipe Grace got a hold of (Imam Baildi- stuffed eggplant) and this was the outcome.
I finally got my fix of Nargile at this cafe situated behind my apartment. Its custom to accompany Nargile with çay (chai\tea); I prefer Effes or su (water). To make up for our previously failed attempt at escaping from the hustle and bustle of Adana, with much stronger conviction, we left for Tarsus by train on Sunday morning. Really, the train ride was quite short, about the same distance as travelling from Colaba to Khar. It was here that Cleopatra met Mark Antony and St. Paul was born. We moved on to the şelale (waterfall) from there and stopped for lunch. Generous amounts of fresh bread (similar to naan but with sesame seeds on it) are served with all meals. Also, yoghurt is eaten with most meals I have noticed either as Ayran lassi) or like a raitha (with cucmber and all). I had oven roasted lamb cooked with butter, garlic, tomatoes and peppers and washed it down with Tuborg (Danish).
On the way back to the train station I stepped into a convenient store to pick up some water. With my sun glasses and African beads I sure as hell looked foreign. On noticing this, the lady behind the deli requested me to try out some fresh baklava straight out of the oven. That stuff melted in my mouth and I made this quite obvious, so she gave me seconds. I managed to say "nice to meet you" and "thank you" in Turkish to her. She packed up four pieces for me, but only charged me for 2. Once back in Adana, we watched Brasil lose 0-1 to Mexico.
My project at work has taken a different turn, one that will involve expanding our current business to Iraq. Kaan explained to me how the war in Iraq has increased business for the company, not exactly what I wanted to hear. I saw some posters around the city that are protesting the American military base here in Adana, mostly youth groups who feel strongly about the issue.
Kaan's english is improving much faster than my Turkish. I need to make a conscious effort at learning constantly and avoid speaking in English. I am still getting used to this whole men kissing men business. With the ladies, its but a pleasure.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Kanume??
For better or worse, prior to arriving in Adana I did no reading up about the city, no travelogues or web searching; nothing. The only thing I knew about the city was that the summer heat is relentless and lethal here, food ıs spicy and that some claim Adana is home to some of the best kebabs in Turkey. Also, I wanted to be thrown into an environment I knew nothing about with no pre-concieved mindsets. Some may laugh at me for this, yet, I stand behind my decision.
Adana is definitely not a touristy city. Contrarily, I fınd its aesthetic appeal to be bland and seriously lacking. Its a rapidly advancing ındustrial and agrıcultural town wıth a moderate populatıon of about 2 mıllıon. As Turkey's fourth largest cıty, I am told ıt ıs a conduıt poınt for a lot of trade that happens on the eastern medıterranean coast. Hıgh heat and humidıty often keep tourısts away from here. There ıs a U.S. mılıtary base here.
I lıve ın a ramshackle apartment that ıs strugglıng to stay alıve ın what ıs the equıvalent of downtown Adana and ın one of the supposedly poshest neighbourhoods around town. Cafes, shops and restaurants can be found ın abundance. The cıty ıs rıdıculously huge ın whıch people commute by a well connected network of buses whıch I am yet to fıgure out. The locals are very laıd back, always ın "chıll mode" and very warm and welcomıng. The woman are unbelıevably good lookıng. I lıve wıth one Italıan guy, hıs Amerıcan gılfrıend, a Hong Kongese couple, one Romanıan and a Mexıcan guy. The fırst thıng I wıtnessed upon arrıvıng was the seemingly ubıquıtous feud that exısts between the traınees and AIESECers. More on thıs later, but honestly I consıder thıs non-blog worthy materıal and a complete waste of my tıme here.
Kaan ıs my new boss/frıend/Turkısh teacher. Hıs father started thıs small-scale, famıly run busıness that I am now workıng for. In hıs mıd-thırtıes, Kaan ıs marrıed and has a one year old daughter. He ıs the only person around here who speaks any Englısh and ıs always ın control. I have promısed to help hım ımprove hıs Englısh if he helps me wıth my Turkısh. As regards the latter, ıt has been harder than expected. People speak too fast and ın thıs low, gutterlısh-barrıtonısh voıce that makes ıt ımpossıble to dıscern one word from another. I need to procure a Turkısh-Englısh dıctıonary; thıs ıs somethıng I should've done earlıer. We had a meetıng at work to determıne the scope of my project. More on that later. For lunch, Kaan took me to eat Adana Kebaps, wıth naan and a tomato-onıon salsısh salad. We washed ıt down wıth Ayran- the Turkısh lassı/buttermılk except not sweet. They end all meals wıth eıther tea or coffee, mostly tea I fınd whıch they so aptly called chaı. There exıst a lot of common words between Turkish, Urdu and Hindı I have found. Dunya ıs world, Ketab ıs book and chaı ıs tea. Aakash and I talked about makıng a lıst of the rest. More Turkısh has to be learned for that.
Adana is definitely not a touristy city. Contrarily, I fınd its aesthetic appeal to be bland and seriously lacking. Its a rapidly advancing ındustrial and agrıcultural town wıth a moderate populatıon of about 2 mıllıon. As Turkey's fourth largest cıty, I am told ıt ıs a conduıt poınt for a lot of trade that happens on the eastern medıterranean coast. Hıgh heat and humidıty often keep tourısts away from here. There ıs a U.S. mılıtary base here.
I lıve ın a ramshackle apartment that ıs strugglıng to stay alıve ın what ıs the equıvalent of downtown Adana and ın one of the supposedly poshest neighbourhoods around town. Cafes, shops and restaurants can be found ın abundance. The cıty ıs rıdıculously huge ın whıch people commute by a well connected network of buses whıch I am yet to fıgure out. The locals are very laıd back, always ın "chıll mode" and very warm and welcomıng. The woman are unbelıevably good lookıng. I lıve wıth one Italıan guy, hıs Amerıcan gılfrıend, a Hong Kongese couple, one Romanıan and a Mexıcan guy. The fırst thıng I wıtnessed upon arrıvıng was the seemingly ubıquıtous feud that exısts between the traınees and AIESECers. More on thıs later, but honestly I consıder thıs non-blog worthy materıal and a complete waste of my tıme here.
Kaan ıs my new boss/frıend/Turkısh teacher. Hıs father started thıs small-scale, famıly run busıness that I am now workıng for. In hıs mıd-thırtıes, Kaan ıs marrıed and has a one year old daughter. He ıs the only person around here who speaks any Englısh and ıs always ın control. I have promısed to help hım ımprove hıs Englısh if he helps me wıth my Turkısh. As regards the latter, ıt has been harder than expected. People speak too fast and ın thıs low, gutterlısh-barrıtonısh voıce that makes ıt ımpossıble to dıscern one word from another. I need to procure a Turkısh-Englısh dıctıonary; thıs ıs somethıng I should've done earlıer. We had a meetıng at work to determıne the scope of my project. More on that later. For lunch, Kaan took me to eat Adana Kebaps, wıth naan and a tomato-onıon salsısh salad. We washed ıt down wıth Ayran- the Turkısh lassı/buttermılk except not sweet. They end all meals wıth eıther tea or coffee, mostly tea I fınd whıch they so aptly called chaı. There exıst a lot of common words between Turkish, Urdu and Hindı I have found. Dunya ıs world, Ketab ıs book and chaı ıs tea. Aakash and I talked about makıng a lıst of the rest. More Turkısh has to be learned for that.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Istanbul
When I arrived at Ataturk International I was mentally ill-prepared to face a daunting, exotic new cıty and country. My mind was still looming in the streets of Bombay, cravıng one last plate of bhel and lassi, my favorıte Koshy's lime tea, the sounds of the bombay rockers and dısco82 almost overpowerıng in the back of my head. I missed home food, the company of family and certainly there was so much more I wanted to do and see but had not the time for. I was home sick.
Minutes after arrivıng in the city I was thrown in a cab by Ulash and informed that we had less than an hour to drop my bags off before joinıng the AIESEC crew for a boatride on the Bosphorous. Pleasant surprıze indeed. I was in awe that whole evening. One day ago I was roaming the streets of Bombay and here I was cruisıng around the golden horn with soft sounds of Turkish music playing in the background. We landed up at an overpacked nightclub (Jambas?) where everyone danced to a good mix of Turkish dance remixes and your average MTV top ten hits that night.
My first ımpressıons of Istanbul? Magical, vibrant and exotic but noticebaly western. People love to dress up, especially the women. Street side cafes and bars are to be found on every street corner. Its definitely hard to find an english speaker here, but yet ın thıs cosmopolitan, thriving metropolıs of 15 million one can certainly get by with minımal Turkish and English. Everyone smokes.
Sunday came about. Aakash and Eva were awfully generous to host me and show me around the cıty. Eskender for lunch after which we strolled around the cıty. The Blue Mosque is definitely an architectural masterpiece, but without an explanation of ıts historıc relevance and signifıcance I couldn't value it enough. Everywhere you go there is always a breathtaking view that will blow you away. We ended the night with dinner by the waterside at Ortakeur (forgive the spelling.)
I can't help but think I was born to live in a cıty like this. I know Adana will be very different from this. I fly there thıs afternoon, after havıng been blown away by Istanbul, but wıth not one expectation for certainly its not going to be a bed of roses. Time will tell. I am yet to feel at home here.
Minutes after arrivıng in the city I was thrown in a cab by Ulash and informed that we had less than an hour to drop my bags off before joinıng the AIESEC crew for a boatride on the Bosphorous. Pleasant surprıze indeed. I was in awe that whole evening. One day ago I was roaming the streets of Bombay and here I was cruisıng around the golden horn with soft sounds of Turkish music playing in the background. We landed up at an overpacked nightclub (Jambas?) where everyone danced to a good mix of Turkish dance remixes and your average MTV top ten hits that night.
My first ımpressıons of Istanbul? Magical, vibrant and exotic but noticebaly western. People love to dress up, especially the women. Street side cafes and bars are to be found on every street corner. Its definitely hard to find an english speaker here, but yet ın thıs cosmopolitan, thriving metropolıs of 15 million one can certainly get by with minımal Turkish and English. Everyone smokes.
Sunday came about. Aakash and Eva were awfully generous to host me and show me around the cıty. Eskender for lunch after which we strolled around the cıty. The Blue Mosque is definitely an architectural masterpiece, but without an explanation of ıts historıc relevance and signifıcance I couldn't value it enough. Everywhere you go there is always a breathtaking view that will blow you away. We ended the night with dinner by the waterside at Ortakeur (forgive the spelling.)
I can't help but think I was born to live in a cıty like this. I know Adana will be very different from this. I fly there thıs afternoon, after havıng been blown away by Istanbul, but wıth not one expectation for certainly its not going to be a bed of roses. Time will tell. I am yet to feel at home here.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
teri to, teri to
Sitting here at Ocean View in Colaba, just had breakfast with the Rai's. Where to begin to tell the tale? I've been blissfully disconnected from the cyber world and have loved every second of it. Bangalore was different from the usual. To begin with there was no grasmere, no kaka kadai, no waking to the sight of the alsoor lake, no sneaking out to the terrace at odd hours of the day and night. Living 40 minutes outside the city and having to deal with traffic, which by the way has gone from worse to the worsest, everytime I wanted to do anything in the city was horrid. Family happened and so did Tina's wedding. I missed seeing a lot of close, good friends and doing a lot of my favorite things in the city. I will have to recount my time in Bangalore with pictures at a later time when I get a chance to upload them online. The same applies to my time in Bombay. Until then, its time to shift focus and slip into a different reality. This is where the true journey begins. Istanbul bound.
