Dresses that don't Fit -- Istanbul, Turkey

You can't always adapt, Bourget. There are a few places you just won't fit without compromising what you love about yourself. There are a few places you just won't fit because the cultural differences are so great that you simply don't notice the things that others do. There are some places you just won't fit because... well... you don't want to or you don't know how. Just like there are some yoga poses you will never be able to master because of the bone on bone compression in your hips, there are some places that will never feel like home. You can't contort your personality and worldview into so many different which-ways that you can slide smoothly into every culture you encounter.

I feel like I can fit in Ireland. I understand the sense of humor, the musicality of the country is inspiring and vitalizing for me, and I appreciate that if I get lost, folks just assume I'm off having tea somewhere (which was often the case). I admire that the Irish know how to work hard and to party harder. The pub culture is fantastic, the theatre scene is unrivaled and there is natural beauty to be found behind every bend in the road (if you can see through the giant hedges, that is). I love that the Irish are proud of Ireland and that it's one of the most environmentally friendly countries I've been lucky enough to visit. Being from sunny, dry Colorado, the weather was tough to adjust to --  but a pint or two of Bulmers makes everything warmer. As does just a drop of whiskey in your coffee...

I feel like I can fit in Wales. I was only there for two and a half weeks, but the friendly, nature-loving Welsh convinced me that even if I didn't fit properly, they would embrace me and my difficulties and see to it that I always felt at home.

I feel like I can fit in England. The dry sense of humor cracks me up (even if I have a difficult time participating), the verdant countryside is refreshing, and there's always some artsy/foodie festival taking place. People don't seem to care so much about fashion (Wellingtons are usually acceptable) and people experiment. From my experience, the English are incredibly open to trying new things -- which won them oh so many "I FIT HERE" points in my book.

I feel like I can fit in Germany. The country has momentum. It has creativity. I felt safe, respected, and welcomed during my stay. I relished the structure in day to day life almost as much as the sausage (in meal to meal life).

I feel like I can fit in Italy. The lack of structure is bothersome, but the bombastic, vivacious people more than compensate for the unpredictable rail system (as does the divine food and cheap wine). Also, if I'm having a bad day, all I have to do is listen to someone speak Italian. Instant happiness. Don't ask why. It might not be a country I could live in for several years, but I could definitely find a way to happily function for a couple.

I cannot fit in Denmark (Copenhagen, at least). I love Svetlana, Nina and how it's a city built around the bicycle, but I don't know enough about culture and I like wearing my yoga pants in public.

I cannot fit in the French Riviera. The scenery is spectacular and the weather is perfect, but I dislike how many locals care so much about appearance. As I mentioned in previous posts, the riviera of France seems to be the land of sugar-free gum and obesophobiacs who run ten kilometers after eating one sinful piece of chocolate cake. It is also a place where people go to retire and is quite often overrun with tourists. Even with the overabundance of jogging French, the area still feels stagnant.

I cannot fit in Morocco. It has the most exquisite countryside and delicious food of any country I have yet visited, but is entirely too chaotic for my taste. The stark separation between the rich and the poor is glaringly apparent everywhere you go and many cities have an atmosphere of underlying resentment. Vendors are pushy and it is difficult to relax in public. The only city in Morocco where I felt truly comfortable was Mogador. People are more pleasant, there is a high level of craftsmanship, music is vitally important and people play outside.

I cannot fit in Turkey (Istanbul, at least). Out of all the places I've visited, Istanbul feels the most like the right shoe on the left foot. And walking around day after day after day is giving me unbearable blisters. I'm not wearing in the shoe at all -- it's just wearing out my foot and giving me chafing pain. There doesn't seem to be a lot of creativity, few people exercise and most don't care about the environment (recycling? what's recycling?). Families are so supportive that they verge on intrusive (from this freedom-junky's perspective) and there's relatively little independence or free thought in children (regardless of their age). From my American perspective, I do see some inequality between men and women and am terribly rankled whenever these inequalities present themselves. It is a very role oriented society, wherein most men work and most women keep the home -- and I find any culture that assigns roles according to gender distasteful. Also, I can never seem to be clean enough for Turkish women (which is stressful for everyone) and I'm too terrified of creating an over-flavored catastrophe to enter Turkish kitchens (Turks enjoy Turkish food. And Pizza Hut and Burger King and Starbucks). As I don't know how to prepare Turkish food, I feel entirely useless (and like I've lost my self-proclaimed identity of being a good cook in this rich land flowing with ayran and kebap). I miss walking and feeling rejuvenated instead of walking and wanting to angrily flip off a driver who nearly turned me flat as a Turkish pida. I miss seeing the stars clearly at night and I miss being able to eat PIG.

I want to clarify that all the students I've met through Umit and Seher have been welcoming, generous, respectful and kind. And Umit and Seher themselves are hardworking, motivated, communicative and create a gentle and loving home. These are just my personal difficulties adapting to the culture as a whole.

This begs the question -- how hard should I try to fit when everything feels uncomfortable? What do I do when it all rubs the wrong way? Should I treat every culture like a leather shoe that will eventually feel good, or should I throw in the towel and find a pleasant meadow in which to skip about barefoot? Is it a failure if I don't fit? If I try harder and change myself, will I stop being a failure?

Or should I simply recognize that Istanbul is not my cup of çay, wear the things that fit --

Hospitality
Generosity
Kebap

Two guys from yesterday's English class took me out for a kebap dinner afterwards (which also falls under the category of "generosity").

There are few things as nice as watching your dinner cook in front of you.

 Tavla

After kebap, the fellows drove me to a café next to a beautiful lake where we drank Turkish coffee and played tavla. I lost both times.

-- and leave the things I don't?

Dependency
Gender roles
Lack of creativity/new ideas
Obsession with cleanliness
Turkish TV

When I travel, I want to try everything on -- like the annoying teenage girl who goes to the mall to try on prom dresses she knows she can't afford or she knows will look absolutely ridiculous on her. But she pulls them on them anyway because she's curious.

Maybe it'll fit. Maybe it'll be on sale. Maybe I actually look AWESOME in pigeon shit green. 

I have a little over one month left in Istanbul. I will try harder to be clean. I will meditate in the morning so that I can cope better with the chaos of the city and keep my cool when drivers get the all too familiar "target practice!" glint in their dark eyes.

What I have learned from myself from trying on dresses that don't fit:

•  I need access to the outdoors. Always. This Colorado girl must be able to run and play and hike and climb and smell the fresh mountain air.
• I need to have some manner of privacy. To know that I can retire to a space for a few hours and not be disturbed -- no phones to answer, no knocking on the door -- I need to have a time and place for me. 
• I don't cope all too well in places where cleanliness is on par with godliness (I can manage "next to", but on par is a bit of a stretch). 
• Big cities are lovely -- for a week or two. 
• I work best with structure. I am happiest when I know what is required of me and when it is required. 
• I love being with people who create things. People who are the motivating forces in their own lives. People who move through space and don't just allow what's happening around them to manipulate their actions and beliefs. 
• I need good internet. This might sound superfluous, but it is vitally important to my way of life. Sure, I can manage for a few weeks without updating my blog and checking helpx, but being a longterm traveler and writer requires good internet to stay connected with loved ones and to find my next opportunity.
• I am too sensitive. I am too insecure. I take things far too personally and this is an aspect of my personality I must work on. Develop greater confidence in myself and a sense of worth that is entirely unrelated to how I am treated by others. So when the shoes don't fit or the dress looks makes me look like Ursula from The Little Mermaid, I don't have a panic attack or an identity crisis or go into shut-down, "I'll never be good enough for anyone, now where's the chocolate stash?" mode.

Culture. What is culture if not a set of limitations that people groups have given themselves over hundreds or thousands of years? We eat this and not that. We wear this and not that. We marry like this and not like that. We celebrate like this and not like that. Culture is important because it helps tie towns/counties/countries together and provides a framework for life -- but it saddens me to think about how many experiences people miss because they are pressured to live within the limitations of the cultures into which they were born.

I am American. Some of the limitations set for me by my culture are that I must work hard, be skinny, have awesome teeth (sparkly white, please), be fairly independent from my family, own a house, be career oriented, celebrate Thanksgiving on the last Thursday of November -- on and on and on.

I think I want to give all that up. I don't believe I should have to strictly adhere to group limitations in order to bond with people or give my life structure. Maybe if I lose my limitations, I will be less judgmental of others. Maybe if I lose my limitations, I'll stop my injured muttering, "no one is this clean in 'merica" and just vacuum my room already. Maybe if I lose my limitations, I won't take it so personally or be so hurt when I fail to live within the framework of others. Because I will have realized that adherence to limitations does not give me worth. Does not give me my identity or make me special. That would be like saying "You are a terrible person because that mustard-yellow dress doesn't match your eyes,' or "if these shoes don't fit, you're worthless."

So. The limitations of Istanbul don't really jive with my personality. This doesn't mean the limitations are wrong or that I'm failing at life. It just means that I've learned mustard-yellow is not my color.