Meeting Medusa -- Istanbul, Turkey

It's the last day of 2013. As per use when in Beylikduzu, I'm sitting in the silent Pucca café. The waiters are now so used to my presence that I was addressed with a goodhearted, clumsy "good morning!" when I took my seat next to the outlet in the corner.

"Good morning. Salep?"

"Salep, tamam."

I've just passed a phenomenal weekend in Istanbul. I know that I've been complaining about the weather and being lonely and moody during the holiday season, but weekends like these spent with kids like Dilara and the highschool students from Çapa make me feel like the sacrifices I make are infinitesimal when compared to all I get to learn and experience through this way of life.

Dilara and her father picked me up from our meeting point in Asia side promptly at 13:00 and we drove back to their spacious apartment. I helped the inquisitive, independent girl with a school project, she introduced me to more of her favorite musicians, we ate gluten-free meatballs (köfte) for lunch, whipped up a tiramisu and then dived into her English homework.

Dilara is a budding little chef.

Dilara's little brother doesn't speak any English (yet), but he was determined to be involved in all tiramisu related adventures. Can't say that I blame him.

I spent Sunday morning at the Coffee Point café in Çapa, guiltily indulging in yet another sublime hot chocolate.

It's cold outside. That always justifies hot chocolate. 

Cesim picked me up around noon and we drove to Beylikduzu to meet the rest of the family. Seher and Ayse cooked up a very Turkish dinner of celery root salad, homemade pickles and chickpea with beef stew.  

I scarfed down the meal much more quickly than I would have liked (it was definitely something to savor), thinking that the airport guys would be calling in a few minutes to whisk me away to the café for our lesson. However, due to sickness and poor communication, the lesson was canceled. I stretched out my waistband and galumphed down the hall to the spare room.

I don't have the energy to write or the space in my stomach to practice yoga... errmm... watercolor. Yes. I want some to spend this evening in nice, peaceful meditation. 

In general, my Turkish family seems impressed and amused by the postcard project. Ayse came into the room to hang up laundry during this painting and laughed, saying something in Turkish that I couldn't understand. Seher's laughter floated in from Öykü's bedroom. "She is asking, 'You could paint anything -- why would you paint a bug?'" "'Cos it's... it's a memory," I stammered defensively. "It's a memory of my friend Terril, and I really like it."

Memory of Jean-Cyril, my couchsurfing host in Paris.

I boarded the metrobus at 9:45 on Monday morning, bound for Ümit's school in the city center. My host had scheduled an outing with five of his colleague's students.

"It is a competition, now. They want to see who can show you the most places."

And these kids. These wonderfully enthusiastic, friendly kids (who'd all done quite a bit of research in preparation for the excursion) showed me some absolutely stunning parts of Istanbul.

We started off in the Grand Bazaar --

-- quickly journeyed on to the Blue Mosque (which was closed, but still spectacular) --

-- delved underground into the Yerebatan Sarnici --

I have to admit... this is my favorite place in Istanbul so far.

So many koi! and the kids gave me a coin to toss over my shoulder and make a wish.

The tear drop pillar. It is common practice to stick one's thumb into a hole in this pillar and make a clockwise circle with the hand. If I understood correctly, this action is done out of respect for the dead. But I could have understood incorrectly. 

Break out the mirrors -- Medusa is around the corner! Ah. I love mythology so much. This sign made me giddy.

According to the sign: The Milion Monument was the starting point of the great Roman road, Via Egnetia, and was the reference point for measuring all distances on it.

The kids treated me to a meat and vegetable lunch with the Blue Mosque looming in the background. 

More notes on the mosque

The magnanimous group presented me with a bracelet to ward off the evil eye and asked me a few prepared questions.

I asked the group to write down a few of their favorites. I like making lists of favorites. 

Favorite Turkish foods: Manti, Dolmas, Karniyarik

Favorite Turkish musicians: Teoman, Tarkan, Gökhan, Sertab Erener

Favorite drinks: Ayran, serbet, ice tea and cola

For the day's final activity, we set off to the Piere Loti.

Riding a gondola made me think of the gorgeous mountain town of Telluride. I felt happy and homesick at the same time.

Yoga on the edge of the hill. There were some very concerned onlookers.

We drank Turkish coffee and one of the girls read our fortunes. Again, my fortune revealed a ring. And money. And a baby. Dear Turkish coffee, Aimee does not believe in marriage, would be a horrible mother, and would have no idea what to do with an abundance of money. Except buy plane tickets and become a certified acro yoga instructor.

we rode the crowded tram back to Çapa together. Then the kids hopped off and I continued on to Beylikduzu.

What an amazing adventure. 

A great big thanks to Ahmet (named after some king or other), Buket (whose name means "flowers"), Gökay (sky moon), Bahar (spring) and Kubra (grow). You were all loads of fun and gave me a glorious afternoon. Keep practicing your English! I believe you all have the talent, courage and enthusiasm to be perfect.

Aimee is Excited! -- Istanbul, Turkey

I'm in Istanbul. Near the gorgeous Blue Mosque.

Sitting in a Starbucks.

I feel like I've committed some sort of unforgivable vagabonding crime and should lose some of my travel badges. Negative brownie points for Aimee.

I'm here because Internet in Istanbul is sketchy business, and Starbucks seems to take America's shitty coffee and America's decent Internet connection everywhere it digs its evil foundation and sinks its seductive, destructive roots.

I needed decent Internet because I was supposed to Skype my parents today -- but they'd just finished driving from Las Vegas to Temecula to visit my uncle, so I received a message as soon as I sat down with my chai (not to be confused with çay) that said they had to cancel again. My exhausted father had fallen asleep.

Argh. At least I have my chai. As blasphemous as it feels to be sipping Starbucks in Turkey, drinking chai makes me think of Sara and Kenton and Jomas. People I care about and miss from home.

It's the season for resolutions (the more time I spend away from home, the fonder I grow of meaningless clichés and illogical traditions) It's the season for endings and (oddly enough) beginnings. So, in keeping with this western spirit (people in Istanbul don't make resolutions for the New Year), I thought I'd list some of the things that excite me about my future and some personal goals for the next few months/year/as long as they apply.

Aimee is Excited!

• A good friend from Colorado is going to visit me in less than a month! This will be the first time that someone from my home state has met with me on one of my gallivanting adventures, and I am too ecstatic for words. Cathy has booked the Spectra Hotel for the last week of January, and I hope to spend the majority of my time with her, exploring this strange, enormous city with someone from my hometown.
• Cathy is bringing me my Nikon camera with a new telephoto lens I purchased off of Amazon. I will be able to take significantly better pictures and will download the "Nikon D60 for Dummies" book on my kindle so I can really learn how to operate that camera properly.  No more "automatic" settings for this lady. I want to redesign my website to have a section for portraits I take in each country, and the new lens will allow me to shoot more professional looking portraits on the sly.
• I get to volunteer at this retreat in March: Cranleigh House Katherine has already said that I can teach yoga classes for some of my hours. Yes, please. Please and thank-you and you're welcome very, very much. I'm thrilled to spend the month five minutes away from the ocean and five minutes away from a national park. It'll be unbelievably refreshing to escape into nature after three months of congested Istanbul. I'm thrilled to spend the month with fellow yogis and art therapists. I will be with people who inspire and motivate me to pursue the things I love.
• Maud! Maud is coming to visit me at the Cranleigh House from March 5th to March 9th. This will be the third country in which I've met up with my super hot, cuddly Dutch friend. We will spend many hours walking along the beach and exploring Exmoor National Park. We both love walking, and as the two of us are aspiring photographers, we both love walking slowly. I anticipate wonderful times.
• I'm attending an acro yoga training program in London between March 29th and April 2nd. This is the first step towards getting my certificate to teach acro yoga, and it feels amazing to be moving in that direction.
• I'd love to spend a few days with my English family after the training. Dear me, it would be wonderful to reconnect with them. I wonder if they still have some of the plum chutney I made from their overburdened backgarden tree last August.
• Vis! I will spend a month living on the island of Vis, teaching yoga at this retreat: Dalmatia Events
•  I hope to volunteer at Undiscovered Montenegro for the month of June. Can you imagine how beautiful that would be? Waking up every morning to the sun glinting off the gorgeous lake Skadar, rippling, glistening, pooling through the window? Practicing yoga and meditating in this environment? Thinking ahead to these moments is something that helps get me through days spent in crowded trams and metrobuses. Big city life is not for me.
• I want to take myself (and maybe a girlfriend) on a budget train/bus adventure up the Croation coast, across northern Italy and along the French Mediterranean all the way to Perpignan. I want to make two days stops in Pula, Trieste, Verona, Genoa and Nice.
•  I plan to volunteer with a lovely lady who is a circus performer and an avid acro yogini (I'll learn so many tricks, my goodness) for the last three weeks of July and the first two weeks of August. 
• The last two weeks of August and first week of September has the Project Miranda in store. I'll get to work with horses, play with yoga, experiment with theatre and help people heal from traumatic events.  
• Paolo! I've kept in touch with my couchsurfing friend from Venice with whom I stayed in August of 2011. We have scheduled the second week of September, 2014 at his apartment in Barcelona. Facebook is an amazing tool. 
• Maud! Again! I end this European adventure with a brief stint in the Netherlands. We'll visit Belgium, explore the whole of Holland (probably in an afternoon) and make sure to see Billie again. 
• Janet. My Wednesday girlfriend from university years (don't ask). The lady who has been there to encourage, support, love, and inspire me for the last 7 years of my life.  Janet. I am flying home for your wedding in October. My plane leaves Amsterdam at 2:00 pm on September 28th and arrives in Denver at 6:45 pm on September 28th. 
• Mike flies me to Spokane for his wedding in the second week of October. I will live on his couch and play with his cat and cook him and his fiancé breakfast every morning. Be warned. I will make you a breakfast specific to every country I've visited. May contain seaweed, chocolate and tahini.
• I hope to spend November exploring Portland and visiting my father's family in Bend. I'll have a hearty, traditional Thanksgiving before -- 
•  flying to Mexico to see Miguel and volunteer at yoga retreats. I want to spend six months total in Mexico, learning Spanish and deepening my practice. 

Yes. These are the things about which I am excited.

Aimee is Resolved!

• To be open to life and not give a damn if things don't work out the way I planned. 
• oooh, I'd like to try to get better at watercolors...
• ... and maybe finish my laughter play...
• learning how to hold a handstand would also be pretty awesome. 

Yes. These are the things about which I am resolved. 

My Turkish Christmas Dinner -- Istanbul, Turkey

The Pucca café is quiet. The Pucca café is always quiet. It's warm and peaceful and the internet always works.

The waiters laugh when they see me. I'm the strange foreigner in the residential area who always comes in, orders a coffee, and sits in the corner near the outlet with her laptop for three hours. 

I wonder what they think I'm doing. I sometimes consider leaving one of my business cards on the table so that they can look up my website and see that I'm not just playing animal farm for the majority of my mornings, but as none of them speak any English, I've refrained.

The waiter who generally brings me my coffee approached on Christmas with a well-rehearsed, "Where are you from?"

"The United States," I grinned as his forehead furrowed in confusion.

"States..."

"America."

"Oh!"

"I'm here three months."

He shook his head helplessly and we both smiled.

Language barriers are interesting things. 

After leaving the café, I ambled back to the apartment and munched some carrots and tahini for lunch. I eat so many carrots that Seher has taken to calling me the "carrot monster". I approve of this nickname. It's almost as good as Cathy Kelleher's nickname of "eggplant thief" and Baris' nickname of "chocolate".

At least I know I will never be referred to as "bread".

I practiced yoga for an hour, focusing on twists and backbends and thinking about how I'd modify each pose for beginners. For me, one of the most challenging aspects of teaching yoga is finding the separation between my practice and the practice of my students. Everything about yoga is personal -- it is my body, my journey, my edge. But when I teach, I have to break that mindset and think entirely about your body, your journey, your edge and supply the appropriate modifications and variations to help you flow through the class as best suits where you are at that moment.

I've been having a difficult time keeping my practice mine. I've given it to the students I have lined up in Croatia this April/May.

Seher tramped into the kitchen after I'd removed my yoga paws and was relishing the post-yoga bliss of open hips, mental clarity and a lengthened spine. She came bearing gifts of chocolate, hazelnuts and cream that her carrot monster might bake a flourless, chocolate, hazelnut cake for Christmas.

It felt so good to bake again.

Umit, Seher, Ayse and Öykü gave me an exquisite Christmas dinner. Ayse and Seher prepared meatballs (without breadcrumbs), Turkish rice (which is uniquely wonderful), leek stew, salad and soup.

And then there was my chocolate cake.

These meatballs were divine -- here's a RECIPE to something that looks similar.

Rice. I always figured that most countries would have some version of a staple rice dish. However, I never realized that each staple rice dish could be so vastly different. I mean, rice is rice is rice, right?

Umm... nope.

The Italians have their creamy risotto.

The Japanese have their sushi rice.

The Indians have their spicy basmati.

The Spanish have their hearty paella. 

The Turkish have their buttery, perfect pilav.

How to achieve the consummate perfection of all that is starch?

Turkish rice is first rinsed in cold water to remove the surface starch and dust. Butter is melted until sizzling in a pan and the rinsed rice is added just before the fragrant butter browns. The rice is stirred for a couple of minutes, until completely coated with flavorful fat and just a little golden. Stock is added and brought to a rollicking boil, then covered and reduced to a quiet simmer for ten to fifteen minutes. The pot is removed from the stove and allowed to sit for five to ten minutes.

The rice is devoured with many an "elinize saglik!

Christmas with my Turkish family.

After we finished dinner, I prepared some Turkish coffee and we ate my cake.

Ah... I've missed baking. 

Seher asked if I'd sing some Christmas carols, so I sang until Öykü got cranky and then helped clean up the minimal Christmas mess.

Cleaning up after Christmas dinner has never been so easy...

I played with Ökyü, studied yoga sequencing and went to bed early with a full stomach and the satisfaction of knowing that I'd someday look back on this Christmas as a good one.
 

Yesterday was just glorious. Umit had arranged for me to meet with a group of his colleague's students, and they were so engaged and enthusiastic that spending the afternoon with them was a pure pleasure. Their English was also at an excellent level, so we were able to joke and laugh in a way that's unusual for people learning a new language.

"I think a sign that you really know a language is when you feel comfortable making jokes in that language," I told Alex, the tall Russian boy who'd grown up in Istanbul with his fashion designer/model mother and stepfather. "You know English really well," I said after I'd finished laughing at another of his jokes.

The kids took me to Ortaköy try my second kumpir. I refrained from dumping hot sauce all over it this time and was pleased to find that I could actually taste the kumpir. Which was a definite improvement.

A sea full of jellies!

After finishing (mostly) my massive potato, the kids booked a tour for the Bosphorus Bridge -- the 4th longest suspension bridge in the world and famous for connecting Europe to Asia.

I taught them some English tongue twisters:

"How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

I laughed because Turkish people have a tough time vith the "W".

They taught me a Turkish tongue twister:

"Dal kalkar kartal sarkar kartal sarkar dal kalkar."

They laughed because American people have a tough time with the "Rrrr".

Ancient fort in the hillside

Tourists feed the seagulls chunks of Simit, so they eagerly, greedily follow the ship in search of flying pretzel.

Playing the "who am I?" game.

Their English was so good that I taught them the "question game" I learned while studying theatre in university. We created a story about trying to survive on a sinking ship using only interrogative sentences.

Great fun all around.

After the tour concluded, we disembarked and caught a bus back to Çapa, where I was invited to a student's house to have Turkish coffee with her mother.

She had a Christmas tree. I was so happy that I hugged it.

I drank my Turkish coffee (in a cup with Ataturk's portrait in gold on the side) and ate my Delight. The student helped me to turn my cup upside down and then her mother read my fortune. The kids had a fine time translating Turkish to English and I delighted in having my fortune predicted in the grounds. 

 Aimee's Fortune:

• Someone will give me a ring soon (or I will have a new love affair)
• I will come into money
• The government documents I'm waiting for come soon and turn out well
• Someone in my family is pregnant (something you want to tell me, Chelsea?)
• I will receive two important phone calls. The first will hang up, but the second will go through
• I am angry at someone right now, but will find a way to forgive

I'm going to learn how to read fortunes in coffee. I'll start with THIS website. 

We finished the day by learning a couple of yoga poses and kissing goodbye.

 I arrived at the flat around 7:30.

Good lord, that was a 10 hour day. Wow. 

I ate carrots and tahini. I taught Seher yoga (until Öykü decided we were done). I watched Öykü destroy a fig and discussed the new schedule with Umit. 

I weakly wobbled to bed and fell asleep while reading about how to sequence for women in their third trimester.