I am still trying to catch up with my travelogue...They Might Be Giants has a song called "Istanbul not Constantinople" and it goes..."Istanbul was Constantinople/Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople/Been a long time gone, Constantinople/Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night." I found myself constantly singing it, because really, how can you not when you are in Istanbul. By the end of the week, even Kari was singing it and she didn't know the song!
I do not think I can do Istanbul justice with my mere descriptive words. It is a beautiful city and the perfect blend of East and West. It is a very European city and it is so easy to get around, even without speaking the language. Our first day there we stayed in a hotel in Sultanahmet and then in the morning we had a business meeting at another hotel. Afterward, we went to our apartment in Ciangir (pronounced gee-ung-er) Square in Taxim. We dropped our bags and started walking up the street to the main drag to catch the train to go to a mall. On our way we passed the cutest resale shop and I could not resist. I ended up buying a beautiful, green, red, and orange, 1950's wool plaid skirt and a burgundy crochet wrap. The neighborhood that we were in was a very interesting mix of people with upscale shops, tattoo parlors, antique and resale shops, bath houses and restaurants. It was definitely my kind of place. I brought very few fall or winter clothes with me and so ended up doing quite a bit of shopping at the mall. We stopped and had a cup of cappuccino and some tiramisu which was delicious.
We left the mall and took the train back to Taxim Square and came up the stairs to a crazy eddy and whirl of humanity. Istiklal street is closed off to traffic, except for a very old trolley that runs up and down the street. Everyone, men, women (some veiled, but most not), young and old, families, and students were strolling down the street. We have been living in a town where only men are seen out on the street at night and I was overjoyed to see so many people, and especially women, out and about.
We did a bit more shopping on Istiklal and then headed back to the apartment with our arms full of packages and some take away. All in all, a very good day.
The next morning we had another business meeting, but considering we were meeting our host for breakfast at the Four Seasons in Sultanahmet, I was not going to complain. After breakfast Kari headed off to the dentist and I went to meet our landlord to settle our account. I lazed about in the afternoon and by the time Kari returned I was hungry and ready to a bit of exploring and so we headed off to Istiklal. The one thing I needed was a new pair of black dress/walking shoes, of course that meant I needed Camper shoes. We were walking down Istiklal and there it was, the Camper store. I found a very cute pair of shoes that have a dandelion on the top of one shoe and then the seeds are blowing across the other shoe.
Then we headed back to the apartment to wait for our friend B to arrive. By the time she came it was getting late and so we went to the restaurant located around the corner from our apartment. They had a great menu, but unfortunately they were out of a couple of things. I ended up with a delicious vegetarian sandwich. It was so nice to have delicious fresh and vegetarian friendly food. We went back to our lovely little apartment and turned in for the night.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Turkish food
The food in Turkey was absolutely amazing. Our first night there we stayed in the Sultanahmet district which is very touristy. We were hungry and tired by the time we arrived and checked in and so we were going to just eat at the hotel (by the way there are four Best Westerns in a two block radius in Sultanahmet), but they wouldn't serve us outside and so we went across the street. That was the best random decision ever. I usually don't gravitate towards the vegetarian menu because they are kind of hit or miss, but this was a definite hit. My dish was a bed of pureed eggplant that was cooked with a Bechamel sauce with roasted vegetables on top. That started the search for a Turkish cookbook.
Every meal we had, even if it was just from a fast food place was fresh and tasty. I was constantly amazed by the food and the service we received. One night we went out to a posh place and I had the grilled octopus that was served on the perfect bed of spinach. It, along with the view from the restaurant, was just sublime. One of my favorite dishes, wasn't even one I ordered, but I stole a bite, and was a sort of tortellini pasta served with a tomato yogurt sauce. I know it sounds odd, but it was amazing.
In our little Kurdish grocery store tonight we found the Turkish pasta. It was in the refrigerated deli section and looked relatively fresh. So tonight we cooked up the pasta, called manti (it is kind of like tortellini) and I made the yogurt sauce. Cook the manti like any other pasta. To make the sauce (for 4 people) you put a 3 Tblsp of butter, a smidge of crushed red pepper, and 1/3 of a cup of tomato paste in a saucepan and cook it until it is hot and bubbling. I put in a bit of paprika too. Crush two cloves of garlic and mix them into about 2 1/2 cups of plain yogurt. A nice tart yogurt would work nicely. Then once your pasta is cooked drain it, scoop it in a bowl, put a generous dollop or two of yogurt on top and a generous scoop of tomato sauce on top of that. Then mix it all up and enjoy.
After dinner have some Turkish delight and a bit of Raki, which tastes a bit like Sambuco or ouzo. Just remember to water the Raki down first!
Every meal we had, even if it was just from a fast food place was fresh and tasty. I was constantly amazed by the food and the service we received. One night we went out to a posh place and I had the grilled octopus that was served on the perfect bed of spinach. It, along with the view from the restaurant, was just sublime. One of my favorite dishes, wasn't even one I ordered, but I stole a bite, and was a sort of tortellini pasta served with a tomato yogurt sauce. I know it sounds odd, but it was amazing.
In our little Kurdish grocery store tonight we found the Turkish pasta. It was in the refrigerated deli section and looked relatively fresh. So tonight we cooked up the pasta, called manti (it is kind of like tortellini) and I made the yogurt sauce. Cook the manti like any other pasta. To make the sauce (for 4 people) you put a 3 Tblsp of butter, a smidge of crushed red pepper, and 1/3 of a cup of tomato paste in a saucepan and cook it until it is hot and bubbling. I put in a bit of paprika too. Crush two cloves of garlic and mix them into about 2 1/2 cups of plain yogurt. A nice tart yogurt would work nicely. Then once your pasta is cooked drain it, scoop it in a bowl, put a generous dollop or two of yogurt on top and a generous scoop of tomato sauce on top of that. Then mix it all up and enjoy.
After dinner have some Turkish delight and a bit of Raki, which tastes a bit like Sambuco or ouzo. Just remember to water the Raki down first!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Another tale
We got back from Istanbul today (more on that later-let's just say I fell head over heels in love with the city and its people) and as we were trying to unpack and settle in here is a sample of today's findings:
"Have you seen my laundry basket?" It was found later in someone else's bedroom.
"Have you seen my rug- the one that was in my bedroom?" The rug was found rolled up and tucked away in the back of a closet.
"Have you seen my top sheet and my pillowcase?" The top sheet was found later on the bed buried under towels, but the pillowcase has yet to be found.
"Where is the silverware?" This question was followed by much banging about of cabinet doors searching for the basket that holds the silverware and the silverware in it. Then, since Kari banging about was not enough, I banged about the kitchen and finally gave up. Ten minutes later the silverware in its basket was found wrapped up in a plastic bag at the top back of a cabinet.
"Gasp-where is the cheese?" You have to understand that we go to Erbil once a month or so and that is the only place we can find good cheese. So, when we go we tend to stock up. Where is the cheese is a very big question, because we had at least three chunks of cheese missing. I did what any logical person would do when confronted with missing cheese-I opened the freezer. There was our beautiful pecorino. Frozen solid.
"I wish they would just leave these on the counters." This was said when searching for the metal canister that holds spices. Instead of being lined up in a pretty row on the counter where we put it, somebody had stashed it in a cabinet.
"I am now up to three liquid soaps and three bars of soap in my bathroom." This comment was made in response to feeling bad about being snarky about my missing sheet. I couldn't find my sheet, but I was going to be clean by golly.
We are looking for an apartment. Keep your fingers crossed that we find one because this type of thing starts to drive you a little batty. Nobody is doing anything maliciously, but this kind of well-intentioned kindness is going to kill me.
"Have you seen my laundry basket?" It was found later in someone else's bedroom.
"Have you seen my rug- the one that was in my bedroom?" The rug was found rolled up and tucked away in the back of a closet.
"Have you seen my top sheet and my pillowcase?" The top sheet was found later on the bed buried under towels, but the pillowcase has yet to be found.
"Where is the silverware?" This question was followed by much banging about of cabinet doors searching for the basket that holds the silverware and the silverware in it. Then, since Kari banging about was not enough, I banged about the kitchen and finally gave up. Ten minutes later the silverware in its basket was found wrapped up in a plastic bag at the top back of a cabinet.
"Gasp-where is the cheese?" You have to understand that we go to Erbil once a month or so and that is the only place we can find good cheese. So, when we go we tend to stock up. Where is the cheese is a very big question, because we had at least three chunks of cheese missing. I did what any logical person would do when confronted with missing cheese-I opened the freezer. There was our beautiful pecorino. Frozen solid.
"I wish they would just leave these on the counters." This was said when searching for the metal canister that holds spices. Instead of being lined up in a pretty row on the counter where we put it, somebody had stashed it in a cabinet.
"I am now up to three liquid soaps and three bars of soap in my bathroom." This comment was made in response to feeling bad about being snarky about my missing sheet. I couldn't find my sheet, but I was going to be clean by golly.
We are looking for an apartment. Keep your fingers crossed that we find one because this type of thing starts to drive you a little batty. Nobody is doing anything maliciously, but this kind of well-intentioned kindness is going to kill me.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
This blog is brought to you by pictures
I have so much I want to say, but I am exhausted. On top of that I got sick again and went to the pharmacy. I started taking antibiotics and three days later Kari pulled me aside and pointed out there was something wrong with me. When she said that it finally made sense as to why I was such a complete and utter mess. Iraq does not have an FDA and it is quite possible that the drugs I was supposed to receive were either switched or possibly contained something else. I stopped taking the meds, and while today I am a bit shaky, at least I am starting to feel more like myself. It was a little scary. I have many stories to tell, but for today I will leave you with some pictures of my trip to Duhok. (These were taken with my crackberry while in a moving car with the window closed).
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Gone daddy gone
"I'm not dead yet". One conference done. On to the next one!! I probably won't be available for awhile.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Language again
I was googling the phrase 'please in Kurdish' in order to figure out how to say please in Kurdish and I stumbled across a list of proverbs and quotations in different languages. I still didn't figure out how to say please, but I did find something that reignited my faith in language, "Le langage est une peau: je frotte mon langage contre l'autre. C'est comme si j'avais des mots en guise doigts, ou des doigts au bout de mes mots. Mon langage tremble de desir."
Translation-
Language is a skin : I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.
- Roland Barthes
Today was my first attempt at giving a speech and I forgot that having someone translate ones words impacts how you speak. I started out, then paused for translation, another sentence, pause for translation, another awkward sentence that I hope my translator translated correctly and did not translate exactly what I said, and so on. I did not quite know what to do during translation and so I looked down then looked up and I just did not engage my audience. I was also frustrated with myself because I know at least enough Arabic to say good morning, but once again I did not trust myself to say it correctly.
I talked to 'my fixer'*, who was also translating for me today about what he preferred from a speaker. Was it easier to have the speaker pause and translate each sentence, or have the speaker ramble on? He said it was up to the speaker. He had one boss who wanted him to just say what needed to be said, regardless of what he was saying. Regardless, I had to trust that my words were interpreted and translated to the audience.
During the break one of the participants, who I had met the day before briefly, asked me if I spoke Arabic. I replied I spoke very little (shwaya, which I said in Arabic). He then told me I needed to learn Arabic. I was a little frustrated at this point and I asked him how long it had taken him to learn English. He said he started learning in middle school and continued through college. Um, hello people, I can't learn Arabic in 6 weeks. This same gentleman also came up to me during the break and told me that I needed to look at the audience while I was speaking. Oh dear.
I was talking to another friend who has done translation work and is very meticulous about his translations. We talked about how hard it is to pick the right word in English, let alone translate that to Arabic. Then another friend forwarded me an article by Michael Cunningham called "Found in Translation" that talked about how a novel is only partly finished and it is up to the translator to convey the thoughts.
What I am trying to say is, it kind of does not matter what I say because my words are in the hands of the translator.
*You know the guy in Italian movies, when they say, "I've got a guy". 'My fixer' is my guy. I hired him purely on gut instinct and now he is running part of my program way better than I could ever do. On top of it he manages a ton of other random things for us, because he's a fixer.
Translation-
Language is a skin : I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.
- Roland Barthes
Today was my first attempt at giving a speech and I forgot that having someone translate ones words impacts how you speak. I started out, then paused for translation, another sentence, pause for translation, another awkward sentence that I hope my translator translated correctly and did not translate exactly what I said, and so on. I did not quite know what to do during translation and so I looked down then looked up and I just did not engage my audience. I was also frustrated with myself because I know at least enough Arabic to say good morning, but once again I did not trust myself to say it correctly.
I talked to 'my fixer'*, who was also translating for me today about what he preferred from a speaker. Was it easier to have the speaker pause and translate each sentence, or have the speaker ramble on? He said it was up to the speaker. He had one boss who wanted him to just say what needed to be said, regardless of what he was saying. Regardless, I had to trust that my words were interpreted and translated to the audience.
During the break one of the participants, who I had met the day before briefly, asked me if I spoke Arabic. I replied I spoke very little (shwaya, which I said in Arabic). He then told me I needed to learn Arabic. I was a little frustrated at this point and I asked him how long it had taken him to learn English. He said he started learning in middle school and continued through college. Um, hello people, I can't learn Arabic in 6 weeks. This same gentleman also came up to me during the break and told me that I needed to look at the audience while I was speaking. Oh dear.
I was talking to another friend who has done translation work and is very meticulous about his translations. We talked about how hard it is to pick the right word in English, let alone translate that to Arabic. Then another friend forwarded me an article by Michael Cunningham called "Found in Translation" that talked about how a novel is only partly finished and it is up to the translator to convey the thoughts.
What I am trying to say is, it kind of does not matter what I say because my words are in the hands of the translator.
*You know the guy in Italian movies, when they say, "I've got a guy". 'My fixer' is my guy. I hired him purely on gut instinct and now he is running part of my program way better than I could ever do. On top of it he manages a ton of other random things for us, because he's a fixer.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
My office
Ta da! I have finally figured out how to take pictures on my crackberry and then email them to myself. Except, since my crackberry only works intermittently, I have to wait for the pictures to be sent. That requires patience, which I really do not have much of.
Without further ado here are the pictures of my office:
This is actually a bedroom. It's the smallest of the three bedrooms and so there are closets in my office.
This is what I look at over my computer every day. It is a little disconcerting to see myself! Once again, there are the closet doors. I did not pick out any of the furniture in my office, and I had to kind of laugh because the extra chairs in my office are red. Oh look, there's me.
I did take another picture of my desk looking neat and clean, but the crackberry didn't send it. You can kind of see my desk in the reflection of the mirror. I once overheard an old boss say that so and so's desk was a mess and they felt it was an accurate depiction of so and so's work. Ever since then, I've been obsessive compulsive about keeping my desk clear. I do not believe that having a clean desk means that you are a better worker, but I think that the perception is true. So, I try to have my piles stacked nicely and if you walk in and my desk is a complete mess, then you know it is a bad day.
One final bonus picture. This is a picture of the new language lab at Salahaddin University, which is located in Erbil, with the Dean, my coworkers and I. The Dean was so proud of this lab. As we were walking back to his office I saw a poster of the International Declaration of Human Rights. I stopped in my tracks and I, of course, couldn't explain why I had stopped in my tracks. Thankfully, someone translated for me and the Dean said they had it translated and hanging elsewhere in Arabic. It just made my little heart go pitter pat.
Without further ado here are the pictures of my office:
This is actually a bedroom. It's the smallest of the three bedrooms and so there are closets in my office.
One final bonus picture. This is a picture of the new language lab at Salahaddin University, which is located in Erbil, with the Dean, my coworkers and I. The Dean was so proud of this lab. As we were walking back to his office I saw a poster of the International Declaration of Human Rights. I stopped in my tracks and I, of course, couldn't explain why I had stopped in my tracks. Thankfully, someone translated for me and the Dean said they had it translated and hanging elsewhere in Arabic. It just made my little heart go pitter pat.
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