Of Fanta Dreams and Turkish Singers

At some point during the madness that is my life in Turkey, I happened upon a sign at a bus stop.  With a Fanta logo at the top and my favorite Turkish singer, Tarkan, taking up the rest, it immediately had my undivided attention.  I was able to work out that Tarkan was coming to Izmir on July 2nd, and if I had any doubts about the validity of this information, they would soon be swept away after I got to see Fanta's ad for the concert on the television fifty billion or so times.

I love Tarkan.  I never thought I would be able to see him in concert, because he certainly isn't about to come to Kansas anytime soon.  I didn't really think I had much of a chance to see him now, either, but I had to try.  It could be my only opportunity, and I was willing to do scary things--like talking to people!--in order to go.

After speaking with my classmates, I learned that getting a ticket wasn't quite so impossible after all.  You need ten points to turn in at a grocery chain to get a ticket, and each can of Fanta had three points.  I began buying a Fanta during breaks, collecting the orange tabs that I needed.  But when I finally had four, I found that the Tansaş store near TÖMER was out of tickets and began to grow worried.  The day before the concert my host mother took me to the Tansaş near our apartment, and when they didn't have tickets either, I was completely crushed.

The day of the concert we had our excursion to Boncukköy, which was a little hard to enjoy when you're feeling disconsolate about the fact that you can't go see one of your favorite singers and your camera has mysteriously stopped working so you can't record any of your experiences.  There wasn't much at Boncukköy; we went to an artisan Evil Eye maker, who had a rather secluded workshop with a lot of shady plants and a menagerie of animals running about--including peacocks and baby peacocks!  We listened to him explain about the process of making the beads (I picked up the word "blue" and I think that's about it).  Then we watched another man make a bird, and then went into the gift shop.  There were a lot of different products with evil eyes on them, but none of them were really the type of things that I felt I really needed/wanted to have.  I ended up getting just a keychain with an evil eye bead since I needed a new one anyway, and then we left.  It didn't feel like we'd been there all that long or learned all that much, but I guess it was still an experience.

On the bus, however, something much more exciting happened.  Some other students had managed to get tickets and Hanna, who was tired, gave me his.  Hope rekindling inside of me, I texted my mother to say I could go.  She called to work out the details of how I would get home so late.  Apparently the ferry was going to be running late, and Charlotte, who either lived nearby to where the concert was held or was getting her transportation nearby, could take me to the ferry.  Then my phone promptly died, although earlier it had had three bars of battery (I was later to learn that while my phone might go a few days at full strength, as soon as it loses a single bar, it loses them all fast).

The bus dropped me and several students (Abigail, Charlotte, Chris, Kate and Melissa) off at Konak and we went to a restaurant to eat before heading to the concert.  Abigail's buddy and her older brother met us there and eventually my buddy as well, but Spencer's host mother was making him stay to eat so he told us he would meet us there.  We took a very hot bus to the concert venue, where I learned that my stress about the tickets had been completely pointless.  There were people selling tickets for five lira all around (which was probably less than the cost of my four Fantas), and Efe, who didn't have a ticket, was easily able to buy one.  We didn't go inside immediately but got some drinks and sat down to watch the ocean.  We got into the line to go in and I passed someone selling Tarkan t-shirts.  I really wanted one but thought there would be one inside the concert area (it was an outdoor concert), and since I didn't want to slow everyone up, I continued on.  My water bottles were thrown out by the staff at the entrance and we were allowed through.  Although we were a few hours early there were less people than I had expected and we were able to get sitting space (on the ground) pretty close to the front.  Spencer joined us, and it kept filling up from there.  By the time they started playing music to get the crowd pumped, we were standing crushed together and I was barely able to see over the heads of the people in front of me to see the stage. 

Opening for Tarkan was Emre Aydın, and although I had heard of him before I wasn't really familiar with his music so I'll admit that I was rather impatient for him to finish, even though he was good.  My feet were starting to hurt already (who knows why they chose that day of all days to suddenly become incredibly weak) and the heat of the crowd surrounding me was almost unbearable.  I couldn't see Emre on the stage at all so I had to rely on the two screens on the side of the stage, which really should have been placed higher because even they were hard to see.  But finally, amazingly, it happened.  Tarkan came out singing his new single "Aşk Gitti Bizden" and everyone went crazy--including the Turkish girls to my right who were jumping up and down and slamming into me repeatedly.  But it didn't matter, because TARKAN was there.

We listened to several songs but then everyone was really hot because of the body heat so we held hands and tried to make our way to the back where we could "see better" and get some air.  It was nice in theory...not so nice in fact.  I have never, ever had that much difficulty getting through a crowd before.  It was just too crowded.  Several times I was almost split off from the group and then I began to wonder if there was a end to the crowd as we got farther...and farther...and farther away from Tarkan.  Finally we made it to the drinks stand, where there was less people, but our view of the concert wasn't much better than before.  We rested up for a bit, listened to more music, but then everyone decided that they were tired and wanted to go.  Although I was also exhausted, I was disappointed because it might have been my only time to see Tarkan and I would have gladly suffered the pain to see it the whole way through.  But since I was relying on the others to see me home, I had no choice.

That was when we discovered that the ferry was not, in fact, running late, and that I would have to take a taxi.  We first tried getting on a bus, but even though we had left early, they were already extremely crowded.  We tried to get a taxi but all the taxis in the way we were walking were full.  Lucky for us, crazy taxi drivers are crazy and didn't see any problems with driving over the grass median to get to us.  I went with Chris, Charlotte, and Kate.  They were all getting off at Alsancak but I needed to get back to my house, so Charlotte called my mom so she could give directions to the taxi driver, then wrote her number down in case we needed to call her again (Spoiler Alert:  we did).  After paying the guy ten lira (forty divided by the four of us), it was just me and him.  I was incredibly nervous but hoped that with my mother's directions he would be able to find it with minimal help from me.

Turns out he couldn't. There was one point in time where I did know where we were and I gasped and he looked at me, but I assumed that he knew where he was going so I didn't tell him to pull over.  Then he took me to what looked like the middle of nowhere and asked if this was okay.  I had no idea where I was and said it wasn't.  After calling my host mother and driving around a bit, we finally found our apartment.  I kissed forty lira goodbye, showered, and collapsed, exhausted but extremely grateful for my experience.  It may not have been my best concert experience ever, what with the heat and my feet in agonizing pain and barely being able to see anything, but it was definitely an experience.

 After that, going to something as pedestrian as school felt a little weird.  It seemed like going to see Tarkan should have been the capstone of my experience, rather than something I saw only two weeks in. Nevertheless, I went to class, did homework, and that Thursday we had our next cooking class.

Cooking class, I think, is a bit of a misnomer.  It should be a "filling things" class.  This time we made mantı, which is like a Turkish ravioli with a garlic yogurt sauce. I was slightly less successful at making the mantı--we were given a thin sheet of dough and told to cut it and my squares were more rectangles, which did not make things easy--but they weren't ginormous as other people were making them, so I suppose they were passable. This time, instead of waiting the next day, we got to eat right away (as soon as they'd boiled), and it was quite good.  As for the rest of the week, the only really interesting thing that happened was turning in our documentary draft to be edited. 

The weekend, as I had come to expect, was just as exciting.  Although I had a lot of time in the morning/early afternoon to do things (such as homework and cross-stitching), Saturday night some of my host mother's friends came over and we went back to Kameraltı.  I thought we were going there to go shopping, but we went to a Köfte (Turkish meatball) place for dinner and then walked like twenty feet away from that to have some tea. By the time we were finished, although it was still early, a lot of the shops were closed.

We then walked to the Konak Pier, where more shops, as well as some really pretty cafes that are right on the water, are located.  I saw my first movie theater in Turkey, and we wandered about looking at the shops.  I spent some quality time inside a bookshop, but I would have loved to have spent more.  We excited the pier and went to some more outdoor cafes that were right next to it.  We got a lovely seat right by the water, and everyone but me got a beer.  I got a Coke.  But we had a nice time just chatting and laughing, and even though I didn't know a lot of what was said, I felt completely at home and included. All in all, it was a very nice night.

The next day was much like the one before it, only instead of Kameraltı, my host mother, host sister, and one of my host mother's friends took a bus to Kipa.  It was a giant mall with a lot of stores in it and it was really, really cool. We went to a clothing store first--which wasn't as cool--although it did have some stuff I liked.  I think my host mother wanted me to get a dress for the party at the end of the program, but I wasn't sure of my size and I didn't really feel comfortable changing with them so I didn't try anything on.  After that my host mother's friend left and Füme and I went to an electronic store to look for headphones (mine had just broken; technology hates me in Turkey, apparently), and to look at cameras since mine still wasn't working. I got headphones but didn't buy a camera since the cheapest was about 200 liras and not all that great. We went to some other stores, including one which had some really cool stuff, including a glass ax with Ottoman calligraphy on it. Oh, how I wanted it. But sadly, it was not to be. 

We waited for the bus to take us home, and that was that. I was left with only wishful thinking about that beautiful, beautiful ax :c

 

Once More Unto the Breach

After the third horrific day, things got better.  I wasn't understanding things in class better--to this point I still only barely know what's going on at any given time--but I accepted the fact that I wasn't going to understand anything, and that made it easier to stomach.  Basically we start off with all the conjugations of whatever suffix or whatever we're working on, and that's pretty easy because I just have to copy it down.  Then she gives us example sentences to try and explain to us the different meanings it might have.  This is where things get hard--normally I'll understand at least one (the main) meaning of the suffix.  But then she might put up the same exact sentence, with a slightly different conjugation of the verb...sometimes a difference of only one letter.  Then she tries to explain the nuances of meaning to us in Turkish.

That's where the whole process, for me, breaks down.  Her explanations just don't get through to me.  Whether the grammar is too advanced or she just spits out a bunch of vocabulary words I don't know, I just can't get the subtle differences that she's trying to express.  My only hope now seems to be when she leaves the room on one of our three breaks, when I can turn to the other students and ask if they, at least, understand.  Usually they have understand better than I have, but it's still not enough to completely turn on the light.  Basically I can now hear the suffixes when people use them and thus generally get the gist of what they're trying to express, but I feel far from comfortable at actually using them in conversation myself.  It's also very frustrating when I can't even word my question properly to get her to explain what I want.

But I digress.  Truly this is an improvement. 

 I survived the week, obviously, and on Saturday we had our trip to Seferihisar.  I got to sleep in a whole hour before heading to TÖMER, where we met our buddies and were loaded onto a bus.  It was a very long, mostly uneventful ride, but at least there was pretty scenery to look at.  We finally arrived at the beach and set our stuff down, and I was excited to go swimming for the first time in Turkey.  The "sandy beach," however, as I soon discovered, was anything but.  There was no sand in sight, but rocks of various sizes that I had to step on in order to get to the water.  Once there, my troubles were not over.  The water was cold, but I couldn't ease my way in because of even more rocks underfoot.  My only option was to fall forward so the water could support me as I crawl into the deeper area and away from the rocks. 

Once there, the experience was considerably more enjoyable.  After a bit of swimming we had lunch, did some more swimming, and then did some exploring on the rocks nearby.  After even more swimming, however, I began to feel that we had been there quite long enough, thank you, and that it was time to go home.  But, as I soon found out, we still had several more hours there.  I swam in the pool for a bit, but I was starting to burn and tired of the water.  I spend the rest of my time watching other people play Backgammon.  Game and game after Backgammon.  I don't know how Backgammon is played, and even after someone started to explain it I still don't, so this part was a bit uninteresting for me.  But finally we left, thus ending my first cultural excursion.

Sunday was a rather quiet day.  I mostly did homework or studied Turkish, as well as watching Coriolanus with my host family.  I think that they actually understood the film better than I did even though it was in English, because they had subtitles for the Shakespearean dialogue and I didn't.  I enjoyed it, although I don't think my host mother did, and it was interesting to see Lord Voldemort with a nose.

And so, my first week in Turkey ended enjoyably but uneventfully.  Classes the next week were much the same, less distressing but no less confusing.  Monday was my host brother's birthday, and on Tuesday after class we met up with our language buddies and went to a museum, Agora, and Kemeraltı, a bazaar.  The museum we went through rather quickly.  It was mostly filled with different textiles, mostly from the Ottoman period but some dating much earlier, but there were some other things like swords to look at.  Agora is some Greek ruins that, at first glance, doesn't look particularly impressive.  There are a couple of columns standing and a bunch of other pieces arranged on the ground.  Once you actually walk around, however, you can see a bunch of passageways that are below the ground level.  Walking around under the arches there was actually rather fun, and a lot cooler than walking around in the sun.  We also met some very friendly kitties, and that was nice, as well.

Next we went to Kemeraltı, which was probably the most interesting.  It was my first experience going to a real Turkish bazaar, and it did not disappoint.  So far there had been nothing in Turkey that I really wanted to buy, but looking around at the bazaar, I wanted to buy everything.  As well as trinkets for souvenirs, spices, and the like, there were also a bunch of dress stores with dresses I really liked, as well as store after store filled with intricate "circumcision outfits."  I felt slightly bad for any children I might have in the future, because I really wanted one.  For those that don't know, in Turkey (although not so much now), boys get circumsized around the age of eight.  They get dressed up in these sultan outfits and paraded around before. . . yeah . . . the actual circumcision.  And although I'm glad I'm not an eight-year-old Turkish boy, that didn't make the outfits any less cute.

After walking around for a good bit, we sat down in a cafe.  I got water, but most of the others got coffee and, when they were finished, had fun telling each others' fortunes.  They also brought out little plates with tiny cubes of Turkish Delight, which was my first experience with it in Turkey.  Although I hadn't been a huge fan of it while in America, I did like the "authentic" lokum that I tried.  Once more I felt like we were there for a bit long for my tastes, because when you can't really contribute to the conversations going on around you very well, it gets a bit boring.  But eventually we did leave, and that was pretty much that. 

The next event of note came on Thursday, when we had our excursion to Çeşme.  Once more we were loaded onto a bus, driven far away, and let out with no word on what the plan was.  We walked around a little town for a bit, and I thought we were walking to the beach from there.  It was definitely constructed for tourists--all the buildings were cute and white and there were souvenir shops and cafes lining the streets.  But there were beautiful flowers everywhere and it was rather charming for a place that you knew was merely touristy. 

To my surprise, we walked back the way we came and got onto the bus once more.  This time we were driven to Çeşme Castle, which was quite cool.  We walked around the castle for a bit, enjoying the view, and looking at the exhibit covering the Battle of Çeşme during the 1768 Russo-Turkish War.  It was interesting, but they hurried us out before we'd even had a chance to go to the very top of the castle, which was disappointing.  We couldn't have been there for more than half an hour.  Once more on a bus, we were driven to a beach.  We got out and brought our stuff to some chairs, which Spencer was able to haggle the attendant down into letting us use for three liras.

Although not as scenic, this beach was more fun for me.  The water was warmer, and although there were rocks in the shallows, there weren't as many and you could soon walk past them.  We stayed there for a while, talking and enjoying the water, before heading home.  The next day we had our "Documentary Subject Selection" for the documentary we're going to be making, and since I'd enjoyed the trip, I picked Çeşme as my subject.

That weekend was different and rather exciting.  My host mother decided to take me to her mother's apartment by the beach. I packed my stuff into my bag and we got onto the Metro, and from there to a bus. I'm not sure exactly where her mother's house is; just that it was a rather long drive. But we made it and I was introduced to her mother and her older sister, who were both very nice and welcoming. We had a very large Turkish meal that night, then sat around and talked. Her mother's house didn't have any air conditioning or Wifi, or even a fan in my room, but somehow I was able to survive the heat.  What I was not excited to encounter, which I had not seen in Izmir during my entire stay, were mosquitoes. And boy, did they love me. I counted fourteen bug bites on my right foot alone, and they were barely biting any of the Turks!  They attributed it to my sweetness, but I think that the bugs were just racist against Americans.

I turned in early and got up late, trying to make up for getting up early all those mornings for class. We had a very large and delicious Turkish breakfast (my favorite being simply fried dough, which I drizzled honey over), then got dressed into our swimsuits and went to the beach. We brought our stuff to a cafe and I was finally able to get Wifi, so I frantically checked my email before we went swimming.  This beach, although crowded, was by far the best--there was a beautiful view of the mountains, warm water, and absolutely no rocks. I loved it.

We headed back after a few hours for a shower, another large Turkish dinner, and hanging around. I accompanied my host mother to a pazar, and watched in horror as she bought vegetable after vegetable that she would be sure to feed me later. After our little shopping trip we watched The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly--thankfully in English, with Turkish subtitles.  What I did find hilarious, however, was the fact that they blocked out all the cigarettes with a little cartoon flower. Now, I can understand shielding children by blurring out blood. It's not every day that I walk down the street and see someone with a gaping stab wound.  But to have Tuco being brutally beaten and bloody and to censor out the cigarette instead of the violence, while everyone in Turkey smokes, struck me as very amusing. Turkish children have certainly seen cigarettes, and I'm pretty sure that Turkish babies might be born with a cigarette dangling from their lips, but apparently they must be shielded from them on the television.  After the movie, I worked on a blog post and went to bed.

The next morning I awoke to find that our group had expanded with several of my host family's cousins, an uncle (I think), and an adorable second cousin, Nehir. After the beach we headed home, where I discovered that the Wifi, which I had missed dearly, wasn't working. Heartbroken, I went to bed, mentally preparing myself for another week of strenuous classes, a ton of homework, and more social life than I had experienced in the past year in Kansas. 

An Inauspicious Beginning

I have never, ever had problems with jet lag.  My dad's "Make them walk until they drop" strategy has always proved annoyingly effective, and I was sure that my staying up late the night before would be just as effective.  So when I woke up before my alarm went off and checked my phone to see what time it was, I was not expecting it to be 5:30 A.M.  I was also not expecting to be wide-awake.  I had no idea why my body decided to wake me up at this ungodly hour after how little sleep it had been running on.  Although it was warm in my room, as always, it wasn't unbearable and I wasn't even feeling uncomfortable from the heat.  I was just awake.

I tried to check my phone to see if I could at least check email or FaceBook or be very slightly productive while I was so awake and sleep seemed impossible, but it was then that I discovered that the Wifi only worked while their computer was on.  I officially had nothing to do with myself.  The one bright spot in all this was that I discovered that my phone was still on D.C. time and therefore I had set my alarm wrong.  Setting it to "midnight" (which was 7 A.M. in Turkey), I lay back down and tried to sleep, but my body refused to cooperate. . .until about fifteen minutes before I had set my alarm to wake me up.  Then I suddenly grew exhausted, and when my alarm did go off, I set a new one for fifteen minutes later to try and get some sleep. 

With my host mother knocking at my door, I couldn't put off getting up any longer.  After bidding her good morning, I got dressed and made my way to the kitchen when she said that breakfast was ready.  Breakfast was toast with a large assortment of spreads--butter, Nutella, jelly, and honey.  There were also olives and cheese, which I originally thought were large pats of butter and tried to spread all over my bread.  To drink, I had whole milk.  It was all very good, and with the way she kept giving me slices of bread, more than I was used to eating so early in the morning.  At 8:55 we set off to take me to my first day of school.  I assumed that we were going by bus again and was confused when she began taking me a different way.  That was not good.  My brain cannot handle remembering more than one way to a destination, particularly when the first way is less than firmly set inside.  But I didn't complain and followed after her, trying desperately to remember my surroundings.  To my surprise, she led me (after about fifteen minutes of power-walking) to the ferry.  It seemed that my first idea of taking the ferry to school every day was correct.  She bought me a "Kent Kard," a card that I could use to ride the ferry, Metro, or bus.  I had slight difficulty trying to get through the barrier until she showed me that I just had to lay it down and not swipe it against anything, but after that we were through and on the ferry.  The view from the ferry is absolutely breathtaking--you can see the entire city sprawled out around you, the buildings nestled at the bases of what are either mountains or very large hills.  In the morning, the ferry goes first to Pasaport, then Alsancak, so the entire ride probably lasted between twenty and thirty minutes. We disembarked at Alsancak, and my host mother led me to the TÖMER Institute, where we arrived with several minutes to spare.  I was dropped off in the cafeteria and left to wait with the other students.  Eventually we were split into groups to take our placement exam.  I was sent to the seventh, and highest, floor.

TÖMER has twelve levels of language placement.  The written exam had twelve questions for each level, and you had to answer eight out of the ten correctly to be placed out of the level.  Then there was also a composition that you had to write on the back, with a topic for beginner, intermediate, and advanced student.  When even the beginner question had words I didn't know, I knew this was going to be fun.   However, when I first started the test, I thought I was doing pretty well.  I knew what endings were necessary and was blazing through them...until I got to about question thirty.  That's when I started to get fuzzy on the questions.  By question forty I was starting to skip a bunch of the questions and make "educated guesses" on the others.  By question sixty, I gave up answering at all and moved onto the composition.  I knew it said something about my family, so I ran with that and described my family as best as I could.  I saw the other students were still working on the test and I didn't want to go downstairs by myself to take the oral exam, so I continued to add things to my composition.  Eventually the two hours we had to take the test were up, and we headed downstairs.  I, as usual, was the last person called to take the oral exam.  I entered a room where all the teachers were sitting, my test in front of them as they graded it.  Reassuring.  One of the teachers--a male--began, asking me about my last name.  Of course.  My father's family came from Hungary, and although it's been Anglicized, it still is apparently impossible for Americans to pronounce.  The Turks actually seem to be a bit better at pronouncing it--the Gs are correct, at least, although they like to draw the Es out a bit.  But even though my father's family is Hungarian, the Hungarians we've asked have all said that it isn't a Hungarian name.  As is, it's apparently a Lebanese one or Coptic Egyptian, and the original form is close to some Polish names.  (editor’s note: The original name was spelled Garges, and is a Hungarian name).

Now, I don't know how to say all of that in Turkish.  Instead, I just said that my dad was Hungarian.  This, of course, led to several other questions--was I born in Hungary, had I been to Hungary, did I speak Hungarian?  No, no, no.  It wasn't what I had been expecting entering that room and it kind of threw me off and made me feel incredibly awkward.  Finally one of the female teachers took over, but the session didn't get any better because I couldn't understand anything she was asking.  Luckily she only asked a few questions (I was in there for a grand total of five minutes, if that), before I was allowed to leave, hoping that at least my composition had saved me. 

After a boring, mandatory safety lecture, we had lunch--stuffed eggplant.  My favorite (insert sarcasm here).  I knew that somewhere in Kansas my parents had to have been laughing, for this to have been my very first lunch in Turkey.  Perhaps they had even written my school and asked for it specifically.  That aside, it wasn't that bad.  I ate a few bites of it to show that I had, at least, hoping that I could pass off not finishing it as simply not being hungry.  Not that they would have cared--the guy next to me didn't touch it, which made me feel better.  I also had noticed last night at dinner that I seemed to be better at eating vegetables than my host brother.  I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  The rice they served with the eggplant was better than the eggplant itself, because Turks like to mix their rice with lots of butter.  As I am a fan of butter, I see no problem with this.  There was also bread to go with the meal (along with every other meal in Turkey), and what I called "tzetziki soup" because that's basically what it was.  After lunch we were served a bowl of fruits, and then herded downstairs to be given the "Earthquake and Fire Safety" talk. 

I was, at this point, absolutely exhausted and struggling to keep my eyes open.  It had already been a long day, I had had very little sleep, and boring lectures about safety were not helping.  After receiving my very own smoke alarm and earthquake bag, and swearing not to speak English for the duration of our stay, we were told that we were going to be meeting our language buddies. . .and go on a scavenger hunt.  For the first day, when we were all jet-lagged and had just had a ton of information thrown at us, I thought this was a bit much.  I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. But, since there was nothing I could do about it, I tried my best to rouse myself and prepare myself for the awkwardness that was to come.  We'd been given a sheet of paper with the names of our buddies, so I already knew that mine was named Efe.  And from the other students, I knew that that was a boy's name.  What I didn't know until we were introduced to our buddies was that I was the only girl with a male language partner.  When my name was called, I went over to meet him, trying not to stumble over anyone's chair or bag, shook his hand and introduced himself.  Then we sat down together and I tried to look as interested in the proceedings as possible to stave off any attempts at conversation.  We were given instructions in Turkish (which I of course didn't understand, but I assumed that our objective was to "find things") and paired up with another American and their language partner.  We were paired with a student named Spencer and his buddy Gökhan, and then off we went. 

What followed was a lot chasing after Efe and Gökhan while not really knowing where I was or what we were looking for, and the occasional awkward attempt at small talk.  We had been given a small slip of paper with what we needed on it, and it appeared that our buddies were determined to win.  We chased after them as they went to a store and got band-aids, went a couple of other places where we just grabbed a slip of paper, and then started just taking pictures of us at different places with Efe's cell phone.  I thought that we had done pretty good time, but we still found that we'd been beaten by another buddy who had apparently run the entire time.  Despite not winning, we still got ice cream, so everything ended well.  Except for the fact that it hadn't ended...we'd finished the scavenger hunt an hour before our host families were supposed to arrive to pick us up, so now we had nothing to do except talk.  And talking was hard and awkward and I was exhausted.

One of the buddies ended up leading us to a cafe, where we all sat around and talked.  I didn't get a drink and didn't do much in the way of talking, because at that point I was just trying to stay awake...and mostly failing.  We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses before eventually going back, where my host mother was waiting for me.  A mostly uneventful night passed, and I went to bed.

The first day of class was not much better than the first day of orientation.  I was placed in level "Temel Üç," or Advanced Beginner.  I and five other students were sent to the top floor once more, where we met our teacher, Esra.  She seemed very nice--very fashionably dressed and personable, trying to get us all to participate.  But that didn't stop the fact that the class was being taught in Turkish, that I know very little Turkish, and I didn't understand what was going on.  Even when I stopped her and tried to get her to explain something differently, either I couldn't get my questions across in a way that she was answering the right question, or if she was answering the right question, I just didn't understand the explanation.  It was a very difficult way to learn and I felt that I was the dumbest one in the class, who even if they didn't understand anything, at least acted like they did.  Thoroughly discouraged, I went home with my host mother straight after class.  Luckily, spending time with her was much better than spending time in class.  She took me down a different street than usual and showed me where I could exchange my dollars for Turkish lira, so I finally had money, which was one stress gone.  She then bought me a little trinket to go with my keys before showing me how to put more money on my Kent Kard, which was something else that had been worrying me. 

That day also happened to be my host sister's birthday, so later on I went out with her.  We met up with two of her friends, whose names I promptly forgot, then took a taxi to a different neighborhood and went to a restaurant.  They kept trying to give me an English menu, but with thinks like "Meksiken wrap" on the menu, I told them that I didn't need it.  I ended up just asking for whatever they got anyway, which turned out to be chicken fingers and fries.  The food was alright, but nothing special.  I had a Coke, but it was soon gone, while we stayed a considerably longer time.  Two more of her friends arrived, one of whom spoke some English and was eager to practice it with me.  We worked out that he would speak English and I would answer with Turkish, and being able to talk to at least one person made the evening a bit easier on me. 

This was, however, the first time that I was faced with a cultural difference that really shocked me.  At one point during the evening, he leaned over and asked me if there were any "[n word]s" in Kansas.  I had read in one of the cultural packets that the word didn't have the same connotations as in the US, but hearing it spoken, and so casually, still made my jaw drop.  After recovering my ability to talk, I said that there were.  He proceeded to say that he "loved [n word]s" and got out his phone to show me a picture of Snoop Dog and T-Pack, who were his "favorite singers."  I then proceeded to try to explain to him that he should never, ever say that word in America.  Although I thought that what I said made sense, I'm not quite sure that I was able to effectively communicate my point. 

Arda and one of his friends arrived, we ate some really delicious cake, talked for an extremely long time (I was on the verge of falling asleep again), and finally left.  But, of course, the night was not over.  We had guests over to celebrate Füme's birthday, and once again I went to bed late. 

After my not-so-great first day of classes, I spent the next morning trying to mentally pump myself up.  Living in another country for two months was going to be hard enough without dreading going to class each day.  The mental prep-talk was somewhat effective--classes were much easier, but that's because they were shortened because we had another safety briefing to go to.  Pretty much all we did was talk about what we had done the previous day before we were loaded onto a bus and taken to an economics university.  We were led to a very nice conference room, where we had a video chat with some officials in Ankara about safety in the event of terrorist attacks and the like.  We actually weren't given all that much information--the man went very briefly through a slideshow that had not been made for us, skipping a lot of things along the way--and the whole thing kind of felt like a waste of time, especially when we were immediately reloaded onto the bus after a not-very-long time. 

Despite the okay second day, the third day was absolutely horrific.  Once more I couldn't understand, once more she couldn't explain, and I just got more and more frustrated.  My brain, when confused, shuts down and refuses to take in any more information.  If more information is forced upon it when it's in "lock-down mode," the next step is to cry.  Not moving on and continuing to try and press the point and force me to understand the issue is a sure-fire way to ensure the tears do come. 

It was not a good day.  Not only were classes hard but I felt very isolated.  The other students, while nice, were almost all older than me and more experienced.  Many had been to Turkey before or spoke other languages; some were even alumni of the CLS program.  I basically floated between groups, with no people that I really gravitated towards.  Even when I could sneak some English, I didn't speak any because I didn't really have anyone to talk to.  I was very depressed, but once more my host family, which had been my greatest fear, was my only source of solace.  Despite hardly being able to talk to them, I enjoyed the time we spent together.  My host mother took me on a very long walk by the waterfront and gave me my first taste of real Turkish dondurma (ice cream), which was delicious.  I thought that screwing up twice in class might be a bit much to fix, but I thought that since I heard we were switching teachers in a month and since I had my awesome host family, that I just might be able to make it.