The First Cut Is the Sweetest

If you can believe it, my boyfriend has never carved a pumpkin--that is, not until this Halloween. Halloween has only recently become popular here, but in a decorative sort of way, not in the sense that kids dress up and trick or treat at neighbor's houses (though we did get one knock that we were entirely unprepared for--I gave them some expensive chocolates we happened to have in the house).

It's strange to be with someone with no memories of putting on costumes and wandering around the neighborhood part terrified, part thrilled, and completely jacked up on candy; someone without memories of plunging his hand into a wet pumpkin cave, and pulling out a fist full of slippery seeds and stringy goo; someone who has never had pumpkin pie or almost peed himself at a haunted house when a zombie grabbed his shoulder and laughed ghoulishly.

The Roma Problem in Italy--What's the Solution?

My first introduction to Italy's Roma community--
known by many as gypsies--happened late at night on the train, traveling from Lake Como back to our home. Guido and I had just settled into our seats, when a drunken man shoved a woman and child onto the train. The woman held a small violin and wore a long green skirt that swished over her feet as she walked. The dark-haired boy held an accordion that stuck out awkwardly from his skinny arms.

The man began yelling at the conductor, then crying, as the woman hurriedly ushered her son into a seat. The train conductor remained calm--I would have hated to see the result if this had happened in the fiery south of Italy--and finally let the man on the train, I'm assuming the family hadn't paid at all. The man staggered between the rows of chairs, the scent of alcohol on his breath assaulting us as he walked past. I asked my boyfriend what was happening.

"They're gypsies," he said. "Roma. It's quite common for the man to force his wife and child to perform and beg while he does nothing but get drunk--like this guy."

I felt nervous the whole way home, but since the conductor sat a few seats in front of us, I didn't say anything. I just listened to the man grumble and shout as his wife and child intermittently and breathed a sigh of relief when they got off the train a few stops later.

Cooking Lessons in Varenna--Best Deal in Italy

My love affair with Chef Moreno's cooking classes began in April of this year, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. I had barely squeezed into Italy after a canceled flight due to the Iceland volcano, and so the whole trip had a slightly "I am one of the chosen ones" miraculous feel anyway.

But something seemed unbelievably miraculous about this cooking class, which I found online. First of all, I learned how to make three different dishes and their sauces: asparagus risotto, handmade tagliatelle with a tomato zucchini sauce, and gnocchi drenched in Gorgonzola cream. Then I got to eat them all. I also ate parmigiano and salami during the break (see photo on right), and had an unlimited amount of wine. Plus he gave us all the recipes in our own measurement system (!), AND he gave us free pick-up and drop-off at the nearest train station. By the end of the day I'd spent five hours learning about Italian cuisine and anecdotes about the region, I was full on incredible homemade pasta, and--I admit it--I was slightly tipsy.

All for 35 Euros.

So it's not hard to imagine why I wanted to take one of my best friends, Marsha, to a lesson when she came for a visit from Romania. The magic of my post-volcano trip somehow carried over to this one--we barely, unbelievably really, made all our train connections and ended up at the restaurant early, drinking cappucinos and soaking up the warmth of the quaint and cavernous room.

A Year in Review

I was looking for the photo I wanted to use to change my header for this blog, and I suddenly found myself perusing all my photographs from the last year. It stuns me to think about where I've been since August 2009: I visited Costa Rica for two weeks, moved to Turkey and lived there for ten months, visited Egypt for ten days, moved to Italy in June 2010, then went back home to visit the United States in August. What a ride!

I feel so enormously blessed for all the incredible things I've had a chance to see, and find myself wishing that I'd been even more grateful for and curious about the places I stayed while I was there, instead of in retrospect. Yesterday I had a great conversation with my godfather, Bert. When I told him about my life in Italy and my thoughts on relocating here, he said I sounded like I was in a pretty good space with my life, that I had a healthy perspective on the situation. I answered: "Right this minute I do, anyway," remembering my near-breakdown earlier this week. And he replied, "Well, that's all we ever have anyway, right? This minute!"

The Marocchino--An Orgasm in a Cup

There are two kinds of people in the world, coffee drinkers and tea drinkers. I am definitely in the tea drinking camp. If you asked me to describe one of my favorite pleasures, I would say: Drinking a cup of tea--black with milk and honey in the morning and mint or rooibos in the afternoon and evening. Add a rainy day, a fantastic novel, snuggling on the couch, or chatting with friends, and I'm as happy as a Milanese woman with a new Furla purse.

The problem is, no one really drinks tea in Italy. This is the land of espresso. But it's not like I pictured it would be: people sitting around in cafes, chatting as they savored their cappuccinos and lattes. Oh no. That's France. In Italy, people drink coffee like they drive--friggin' fast. A typical Italian walks into a bar during her morning break, orders an espresso, then stands at the counter and kicks the coffee back like a shot of whiskey. She'll chat with her work friends for a few moments, finish off her brioche (croissant) then head back to work. There is no lingering.

Soup-Inspired Longing for Home

I miss my dad. This time of year my dad and I both really love cooking and planning our big family gatherings like Christmas and Thanksgiving. Now that I'm in Italy, we'll have to plan our separate menus over the phone. Living in Italy is really wonderful, but I can't lie--being away from my family during the holidays hurts.

One dish my dad and I love to prepare this time of year is squash soup. It was a tough decision in the past, because he and I were the only ones who really enjoyed it. Growing up, my brothers were so much younger (by six and nine years) that the flavor didn't appeal to them. My mom wasn't crazy about eating a sweet soup either. In her mind, soup should be savory--like the gumbo she grew up with in the south--and squash soup was a strange anomaly that rebelled against her philosophy and taste. Squash soup was right up there with tapioca, or fish eyes and glue, as she used to call it.

From the Inferno to Paradiso--or Dances with Prosciutto

Yesterday Guido and I went to the questura, which is the Italian word for "hell" (okay, it's what they call the local police station). I'm in the process of finishing the fabulously labyrinthine process for my permesso di soggiorno, which is sort of like my green card/identity card for my next year in Italy. Anyway, we had an appointment slip for 8:16am and thought that we'd walk right up to the window at the ever so exact time printed on the paper. I mean, why else would they say 8:16am, unless that time slot was specifically for us?

Italian Granita

Guido and I went to Rome recently, and while reacquainting myself with the city I saw so many years ago as a teenager, he decided to take me to the famous Piazza Navona, sight of the Tre Fontane (The Three Fountains). I went to Piazza Novana sixteen years ago on a tour in high school, and vaguely remembered savoring a delicious gelato while sitting next to one of the Tre Fontane at night.

Well, it wasn't night this time; it was the hottest part of the day. Guido and I were wilting in the heat, so much so that we stuck our feet in one of the fountains (like everyone else, in our defense) and ended up getting yelled at by the carabinieri (the police).

We finally managed to drag our sweaty selves to Tre Scalini, a famous gelateria, to salivate over their tasty gelati. I don't know why, but we decided to skip their most famous dessert: divino tartufo, a heavenly chocolate concoction (wait, why did we skip it again?). Instead, we dipped our plastic spoons into an over-priced but mouth-puckeringly delicious lemon granita. Our moods improved immediately.

Slow Food Festival

a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPRgVTbdr0-EeOY-zt_3TfDBzHWqyEViSpC2eUJ4i1GyHY0C6k9z0BXV2-0QJab-L_HviCzlGe6jLJrwrifRocBmYM-_oOBYbCC-SEGAmNSbvpz56gCzjUFwLJafAv94Sg1KDUYT4AmM/s1600/Fruits+from+Caglio.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}">Today Guido and I went to Caglio, a small town super close to the Swiss border (which explains why I had "The Sound of Music" in my head). A friend of Guido's told him about a Slow Food festival in this little mountain village, and Guido, being the amazing boyfriend that he is, knew that we had to go.

Tucked into the foothills of the Italian alps about ninety minutes north of Milan, Caglio was the perfect location to display locally handcrafted foods from the province. (You can see a fun blog about Caglio here--but the photos are taken in winter.)

There were so many sweet things to see. First we had buckwheat polenta (recipe for that later), followed by the most amazing gelato I've ever had (it was some of the best Guido has ever had too, and since he's Italian, that's saying something). The three flavors we tried: mandorle di Noto, almonds from Noto, a Sicilian city famous for its almonds; riccota and amaretti (a type of cookie); and zucchini (!). They were all amazing, but I have to say that the ricotta and amaretti gelato was totally orgasmico.

Last Days in Turkey

Here are some pictures from my last few weeks in Turkey. So much happened and I saw so many people, that it's difficult to capture it all. But hopefully this gives you a sense of the end of my time there, as well as the very beginning of my new life in Italy.

This will be my last post on Turkey on this blog.

Ciao!

Whirling Dervish video

Yes, it's a little sacrilegious, but I took some video of the Whirling Dervish ceremony...like EVERYONE else who was there. This performance was incredibly moving for me for a couple reasons. The first reason was because it was my last weekend in Turkey, and I was in Konya, which is where Rumi is buried, who is a great spiritual teacher for me. The other major reason was because there were two really young dervishes--one that looked about eight years old, tops. His faith and devotion at such a young age really moved me.

I included some footage here of him whirling in the first clip, and then a really lovely clip of the final set of whirling, which is the "divine marriage (with God)" set.

Finally, there is a clip of what I'll call a Sema Blooper. If you look carefully, you'll see the two younger dervishes resting near the border of the stage, and behind them, you'll see a woman in a burqua, spinning on the edge of the stage, which is definitely not supposed to happen! The guards finally came and got her--she clearly has some issues--but it was so surprising to see in the middle of a sacred sema ceremony!

Amazing Turkish Dancing

Here are three cool dancing clips from a really popular dance troupe called The Fire of Antolia that played at our school for International Week (they were incredible!). The first one is a bit like Turkish river dancing, and the second two are really, really amazing, I think. Enjoy!

The Ottoman Empire

The Ottomans were initially nomads who migrated from the central Asian steppe to the Anatolian region and practiced a primitive shamanistic tradition. As they came into contact with more developed Islamic cultures, the Ottomans eventually converted to Islam as well.

As the Selcuk empire fell, Turkish Anatolia was divided into a collection of emirates (lands ruled by an emir, an Islamic ruler), called the Ghazi emirates. One of these emirates was led by Osman I, from which the name Ottoman is derived, and he extended the frontiers of Ottoman settlements towards the borders of the Byzantine Empire.

At this point, the Byzantine Empire was on the verge of collapse. The Byzantines were begging the Pope in Rome for help, but he refused aid unless the Eastern Orthodox religion reunited with the See of Rome. Though a reunion was considered, Eastern Orthodox clerics were too bitter about the reunion to allow it, and the Byzantine Empire continued to flounder. Osman I moved the capitol of the burgeoning Ottoman Empire to Bursa--a stone's throw from Constantinople--and continually loomed over the Byzantines, waiting for the right moment to attack. As the Ottoman Empire began to expand into the Mediterranean and Balkans, the Ottomans took over almost all of the Byzantine lands in Anatolia, except Constantinople.

In 1453, Mehmet II (later known as Mehmet the Conqueror) reorganized a flailing military and state and made major history when he breached Constantinople's walls on May 29th. He established the city as the new capitol of the Ottoman Empire and is considered one of the great heroes in Turkey--his name is still one of the most popular male names in the country. The Hagia Sophia--one of the most popular tourist detinations in Turkey--was instantly converted from a cathedral into a mosque, and all the religious instruments removed and mosaics painted over. Constantinople's name was changed to Istanbul, and a new era began.

The conquest of Constantinople established the Ottoman Empire as the preeminent powers in the Mediterranean and southeastern Europe. While there's too much to say about the Ottomans for a simple blog post, I'll share some highlights about the Ottomans here:

• The Ottomans were ruled by a Sultanate until the fall of the Empire in 1922. 
• The Ottomans were able to acquire enormous wealth and power partly because they controlled many of the most used trade routes (most notably the spice trade routes and the Silk Road) as you can see from this map (Silk Road in red, spice routes in blue). The Ottomans charged a huge amount in taxes for passage through their lands.

• The Ottomans were quite tolerant of all religious groups living within their borders, including Byzantine Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and Assyrians, and allowed them to practice their own religions and maintain their own legal practices alongside those of the Ottoman empire.
• The Ottomans conquered the Greeks in 1456, and Serbia, Bosnia, and several other territories were under Ottoman rule by 1478. The Turks commanded the Black Sea and the Aegean trade routes, and even threatened Italy and besieged Vienna in 1529. The siege was unsuccessful, and the Turks retreated out of the region. Basically the Ottomans struck fear into most of Europe until the end of the 16th century and beginning of the 17th, when Europeans began to win battles against the Ottomans as internal struggles in the empire weakened their prowess.  

• The Ottomans developed a rich culture over its reign, making contributions to poetry, architecture, calligraphy, carpet weaving, jewelry, music, dance, and minature paintings. Here is a miniature of miniaturists.
• They also developed a rich cuisine during this period, consisting of drinks and food that are still popular today: Turkish delight (lokum), Turkish coffee, salep (a milky drink made of orchid flour), baklava, shish kepab, doner (a popular meat dish cut from cones of rotating meat, see picture), raki alcohol, and ayran, a yogurt drink. 

• Some reasons why the Ottomans were so successful were because of their state-run education and judicial systems; their centralization of power; a transferrence of ruling power that transferred to one person, not two people; unity through Islamic ideology; a pragmatism that took what was best from other cultures and integrated it into their own; unity through the Islamic warrior code, which increased Muslim lands through jihad; a very strong military (primarily based on slaves); and alliances created across many different ethnic and religious groups. 

You can read a nice, concise history about the Ottoman Empire here, on a BBC website. Finally, we'll answer another very important question: Why did the Ottoman Empire fall?

Historical Timeline of Turkey up to the Ottomans

A few of you asked about the Ottoman Empire and its role in Turkish history and culture. But to understand Turkey a little better, I think one should understand the previous cultures that swept through here as well.

One important thing to note about Turkey is that it's surrounded by water, and that Istanbul (previously Constantinople) is located right at the entrance of the Bosphorus Strait, a strip of water that leads into the Black Sea, accessing more of Europe and Asia. All these potential sea ports made Turkey a really desirable place to settle. There's way too much history to cover here, so I'm going to give you a brief overview of the different cultures and kingdoms that inhabited Turkey up until the Ottoman Empire. We're going to skip all the prehistoric periods (from 500,000 B.C. to 2000 B.C.) and start with what's considered the historic period, starting in 2000 B.C.

Remember that the term Anatolia refers to the peninsula part of Turkey that is on the Asian side.

• 2000 B.C. to 700 B.C. The Hittites: The Hittites were an ancient Anatolian people who migrated from the Black Sea region. Their civilation rivaled the Egyptians and Babylonians. Here's a map of the Hittite Kingdom at its height, around the 1300 B.C. The name Hittites comes from the King James version of the Bible. Their religion was polytheistic, and in the Hebrew Bible, they are generally seen as descendants of the Biblican figure Canaan, a people that lived alongside the Israelites. The Hittite kingdom eventually fell to the Assyrians, the nearby kingdom in green.
• 860 to 334 B.C. Various Kingdoms: With the fall of the Hittites, a variety of other cultures had a brief dance in various regions in Turkey. The Urartian Kingdom from 860-580 B.C., the Phrygian Kingdom from 750-600 B.C., the Lydians from 680 to 546 B.C., and the Persians, from 546 to 334 B.C.
• 323 to 30 B.C. The Hellenistic Period: Alongside the Phrygian, Lydian and Persian kingdoms (which flourished mostly in central Anatolia) appeared the Greeks, who lived on the coasts of Anatolia, after escaping Dorian rule in the Dark Ages of the Aegean. At first, the Greeks cohabited relatively peacefully with the Lydians, and trade between the two cultures generated a renaissance for both groups. The Greeks first welcomed the Persians when they toppled Lydian rule. But when the Persians began imposing unpopular tyrants on Greek city-states, the Greeks rebelled, calling on their Greek kinsman for aid. In 334 B.C., a famous war occurred (documented by Herodotus, one of the earliest recorded historians). Alexander the Great defeated the Persians fighting under Xerxes the Great and liberated all the city-states, turning Turkey into part of a vast Greek empire for several hundred years.
• 30 B.C. to 395 A.D. The Roman Period, and 395 C.E. to 1453 C.E. The Byzantine Period: The Byzantine Empire is a modern term traditionally used to describe the Greek speaking Roman empire during the Middle Ages, with its capitol in Constantinople, today's Istanbul, and a major trade route passing through the region. Apparently there's no real consensus about its start date, but one of the main differences is that it was a Christian empire which had broken its previous ties with its pagan Roman past. You can see a map of the Byzantine/Roman Empire below, which is not based on a specific time frame, but will give you an idea of its vastness, as well as its influence of much of modern day Europe and North Africa.

• 1071-1300 C.E. The Selçuk Period: Though their reign only lasted a few hundred years in Turkey, the Selçuks played a very important cultural role in Turkish history. The Selçuks were a Turk-Persian tribe of recent Islamic conversion, that eventually set up an empire that stretched from Anatolia through Persia (Iran) and was the target of the first crusade. The Selçuks had their origins in Turkic tribes from Central Asia, which had migrated to the Anatolian region. Once they settled in Persia, the Selçuks adopted Persian culture and language and made great contributions to Persian art, literature, culture, and language. If you're familiar with the poet Rumi, he lived during this period (around 1200 A.D.) and this period gave birth to Sufism and the Whirling Dervish order. Selçuks are also regarded as the cultural ancestors of present-day Turkey, Turkmenistan, and Azerbaijan. Though they existed alongside the Byzantines for over two hundred years, their borders were continually frought with the constant tension that eventually led to the weakening and fall of the Byzantine Empire. As the Byzantine Empire began to wane, its weakness was just enough to leave the highly coveted and protected city of Constantinople vulnerable to the right invader...and this takes us right up to the beginning of the Ottoman Empire, and our next post.

Is Turkey in Asia or Europe?

If you look at the map here, you'll see that a little piece of Turkey is on the European side, snuggled up against Bulgaria. Istanbul straddles a strait called the Bosphorous, a.k.a. the Istanbul strait (see pic below), that physically separates the European landmass from the Asian land mass (often referred to as Anatolia), which is one reason why so many writers talk about how Istanbul is the place where "The East meets the West," because it quite literally does.

Now if you want to get into a discussion about whether Turkey's identity is European or Asian...well, that's a very subjective and hot topic at the moment. Some Turks will say that Turkey is European not only geographically, but culturally, which is why it should join the E.U. Others will say Turkey is its own entity, a bridge between the East and West, making it both and neither at the same time--a status it should revel in, instead of trying to be one or the other. And still others will say that Turkey is Islamic (and perhaps becoming more so, with the current administration) and its culture lies in its Asiatic roots and current allies.

After living here for nine months, I tend to lean towards the second assertion. To me, Turkey's European identity is something like the image below--a nation that runs parallel to Europe but never quite merges with it, observing Europe always on the horizon, perhaps with longing, curiosity, and some resentment, yet mostly content with its borders.

Senior Graduation

So, I got invited to a senior graduation party, and decided I should probably get dressed up a bit. I hoped I wasn't overdressed in my black dress, black flats, and white scarf, but when two of my male students picked me up in suits, I realized I hadn't dressed up enough. I'd forgotten to wear nylons, and I could have worn heels. Sigh.

My students showed up dressed to the nines (as is common in Turkey for special events), their hair coiffured in gravity-defying styles and their 80's prom dresses all outfits they had likely bought for a wedding. I was a bit embarrassed.

Anyway, my students and I had a great time. I stayed after my colleagues left and danced with my students till 10:30. It was great. Here are some fun videos of Turkish dancing below.







Enjoy!

Me Lately

Here are some pics (with captions) of some special moments I've had lately in Turkey. Enjoy!

The Turkish Evil Eye...a.k.a. The Nazar

I'll never forget the first evil eye amulet I receieved in Turkey. It was just a few weeks after my arrival in Turkey, and I was getting familiar with Turkish culture, specifically male-female relations. My housemate, Fielding, had accepted a dinner date with the creepy guy at the reception desk of our hotel. Wanting to protect her reputation, I told her she was foolish to go alone (I'd learned this much so far), and that I'd come with her to not make it look like a date. (We live in a small city, and I was concerned about the destructive gossip I'd heard so much about).

The guy took us to dinner, engaging in awkward conversation with us since he hardly knew any English. He'd brought his nephew along--who was closer to Fielding's age--and rather than be put off that I'd broken up his date with Fielding, he paraded the two of us behind him through the city center as we followed him helplessly, since we didn't know the bus system well enough to get home by ourselves.

I was about to call a colleague to pick us up when the guy dashed into a jewelry shop with a disturbing smile. "No, please!" we shouted, but he didn't listen. Then he came out and handed us each a small bag. I opened it up, and inside I found my first evil eye amulet, a nazar boncuğu.

Turks are insanely superstitious about the evil eye, or nazar. The Evil Eye is basically a look someone can give you that will cause bad luck or misfortune. Countries all over the world believe in it, but I'm surprised at how pervasive it is, to the extent that there's a nazar amulet on Turkish airplanes, public offices, on baby clothing, on car mirrors, room and home entrances, and subtly woven into all kinds of jewelry. I've had Turkish coffee fortunes read where a bubble represented a nazar--which meant that someone was giving me the evil eye. That meant I had to stick a finger into the bubble and pop it to protect myself, as well as wear my nazar jewelry more fastidiously.

I'm starting to feel like everything you do can nazar or get you nazared by someone else, because a student recently told me that if you compliment someone's body part, you can nazar them (it's also a verb). This incident made her a believer: She was in her house one afternoon, and a neighbor walked by with a "short" skirt on (it was probably cut below the knee). My student told her that she had nice legs, as the neighbor traveled on her way. A few hours later, the neighbor came back. Apparently she'd had some kind of injury and (cue spooky voice) had hurt the very leg my student had complimented. Now, my student refuses to compliment people's body parts, unless they're wearing a nazar amulet, and even then...

As with all superstitions, it makes me giggle. But...I'm not going to lie, I also have a little nazar amulet on my purse...you know, just in case.

For more about the nazar amulet, or to purchase your own "insurance" you can check out this website here: www.nazarboncugu.com  where I stole my pictures from. Yeah, I know...I stole pictures from a nazar amulet website. What was I thinking? I'm screwed.

The Ladino Community in Turkey Part 2 (read the post below first)

The Ladino, or Sephardic, community in Turkey also developed a unique language that still exists today. Ladino primarily had 15th century Castilian Spanish as its base, but also borrowed words from Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Greek, and even French. The current Ladino language has two basic dialects which reflect the regions the Jews fled to after the expulsion from Spain. "Oriental" Ladino was spoken primarily by Ladinos in Turkey, while "Western" Ladino, emerged from Jews who escaped to Greece, Macedonia, Bosnia, Serbia, and Romania. Many Ladinos fled to South America as well.

You can hear a one-minute sample of Ladino here. While I don't know which version of Ladino this is, the Spanish roots are really clear. Try listening--it's fascinating!

During the Nazi regime, most Ladino speaking communities in Europe were destroyed. Turkey, however, maintained a neutral stance during the war, and was therefore able to accept many Jews fleeing from Nazi occupied countries, as well as protect the community protected by her neutral walls. Shortly after Israel gained independence in 1948, thousands of Ladino Jews fled to Israel, and as a result, Israel now has the greatest population Ladinos, somewhere around 200,000 who still speak or understand a very limited and basic version of the original language.

In Turkey, the Ladino population is now around 20,000 to 22,000, with the majority still in Istanbul and the rest in the touristic (and more Western) cities of Izmir, Adana, Ankara, Antakya, and Bursa. For the most part, Ladino Jews speak in Turkish, and the Shalom newspaper primarily prints in Turkish, but one page is printed in Ladino, and a monthly supplement in Ladino as well.

There are now eighteen active synagogues in Turkey. The photograph in this blog is of the Neve Shalom Synagogue, in Istanbul, Turkey. The caption next to the photograph states, "Entry to the synagogue is always through the rear where elaborate security measures are in place (e.g., three sets of steel doors)." This reflects the awful reality that several Jewish sites have been targeted by Arab terrorists, including three on this synagogue in 1986, 1992, and 2003, with over 35 fatalities.

The Quincentennial Foundation Museum of Turkish Jews in Istanbul works to preserve the history and heritage of the Judeo-Spanish community in Turkey. The official website of the Museum can be found at http://www.muze500.com. You can also visit that website for a more extensive history of the Ladino community.

There's so much more to go into--I really barely scratched the surface here. But I have so many friends and family members with Jewish heritage, that I thought this would be a really rich topic to delve into. Please let me know if I made any historical mistakes that I need to correct, but more than anything, I am so happy to share a really special part of Turkish and Jewish history.

The Ladino Community in Turkey Part 1

One question about Turkey came from a friend who wondered about the Ladino community here in Turkey (and no, that's not a misspelling), which, in her words, was a "vibrant and culturally rich Jewish community in the Ottoman Empire" and then in Turkey, when it became an independent nation in 1922. My friend wondered about the state of the Ladinos in Turkey today.

What a great question! I hadn't known about the Ladinos actually, but after a little research through the Ladino museum in Turkey (and one in the U.S.) and several websites, here's what I found. First though, a little background about this historically fascinating community.

In 1453, the Ottoman Turks--under Mehmet the Conquerer, a beloved Sultan in Turkish history--conquered Istanbul. Sultan Mehmet the II, as he was also known, helped liberate the oppressed Jews living under the Byzantine Empire (also known as the Roman Empire), which primarily practiced pagan Catholicism and later Eastern Orthodoxism. Mehmet's inclusive call to the Jews encouraged them to "...dwell in the best of the land, each beneath his vine and fig tree, with silver and with gold, with wealth and with cattle." This wholehearted acceptance of Jews in Turkey during a time when so many were turned away, demonstrates the Ottoman Empire's legendary inclusiveness towards all people, regardless of race, religion, or background.

In order to understand how the Ladino community established itself in Turkey, we have to pull away from Turkey for a moment and turn our gaze to Spain. In 1492, Isabella and Ferdinand issued two important edicts. Americans are quite familiar with one of them--the order to Christopher Columbus to put an expedition together and head off in search of the Indies. But another important edict was issued as well: The entire Jewish community--over 200,000 people--was expelled from Spain as part of the Spanish Inquisition.

During this horrifying exodus, the most fortunate Spanish Jews, also known as Sephardim, escaped to Turkey, where they were embraced by the reigning sultan, Sultan Bayezid II, with open arms. "How can you call Ferdinand of Aragon a wise king," he was quoted as saying, "the same Ferdinand who impoverished his own land and enriched ours?"

It was an adept observation. Many of these Jewish citzens were doctors, lawyers, scholars, and diplomats, and they truly added so much to the economic, intellectual, and cultural richness of the Ottoman Empire. The Ottoman Empire, in turn, was much kinder than the Byzantine Empire had been. Ladino communities were allowed to have their own laws, schools, and other independent freedoms. The Ladino Jews also created the Ottoman Empire's first printing press in 1493, in what was then Constantinople. In 1843, Ladinos began publishing a well known newspaper titled Shalom that is still in circulation today.

Photographs taken from here and here. The first is a remnant of the oldest synagogue in Turkey, dating back to the 4th century C.E. (A.D.). The second is of Sultan Bayazid II.

Sources:
The Sephardic Studies Website
The Istanbul Ladino Center
The Jewish Virtual Library
Time Magazine

Flowers!

In honor of spring, here are some pictures of the flowers that have inspired me since I arrived in September 2009.

This is how I feel these days

With one month to go in Turkey, a finished novel, a wonderful partner I'm about to start a real life with, and a big open expanse of future ahead, this is how I feel these days. Like a big, empty vessel in a forest, open to the mystery of whatever's next.

Please bring my hot water back

The past two weeks since I got back from Italy have been a bit tough at home. The night I got back the hot water wasn't working and I couldn't take a shower. Then they fixed it. Then the house's windows were open one day, for no apparent reason. It was really creepy, because it meant that someone had come into our house without permission and hadn't locked up afterward. I've had the propane go out, construction and banging on my house every day until today, and we have no road in front of our house and have to walk halfway to work in the dirt.

I'm on day seven now without a working hot water heater. I've been taking showers Philippines style, with a mop bucket and a cezve, the pot used for making Turkish coffee. I light candles and pretend I'm in a Turkish hamam, but it's not that convincing.

I am really ready to move to Italy. 

I'm FINISHED!

While I am feeling pretty finished with my time in Turkey (just six weeks till Italy!), when I say that I'm finished, I actually mean that I'm finished with my novel. WOO HOO! After two and half years of writing, rewriting, editing, and then super-duper editing, I now have a finished product that I am really proud of. If I could make a wish on this little dandelion, it would be that I could get my novel published. So...say some extra prayers and send me some extra love, because I'm going to need it as I start to send out query letters to try to get an agent to represent me.

You can check out my new website and the prologue of my novel here!

It's also extra special for me, because I finished it on Mother's Day. My mom was the biggest fan of my writing growing up and always believed in me, even when I didn't. After she passed away, I decided to go to graduate school to get my M.F.A. in writing, to honor the gift she thought I had. My book is 100% dedicated to her in every way, and I know that somewhere she's super proud of me, cheering me on like she always has. Thanks Mom!

My Magical Italy Trip

My trip to Italy was partly magical just because I arrived. I kept reading about all the poor stranded people all over Europe and couldn't believe that I'd made it, and only a day late. I felt so blessed. But it also just seemed to have this beautiful magical glow--partly because it was spring, but there was something else...something really special...

Anyway, here are some of the highlights from my trip:

• Arriving!
• Spending wonderful time with Guido, of course.
• Picking the new apartment that I'm moving into with Guido on June 20th. It's so beautiful and wonderful! I can't believe how blessed I am that I get to live there! I really feel so fortunate.
• Seeing the new town that Guido chose for us to live in--it's called Monza, and it has a park that's three times the size of Central Park, a cobbled pedestrian center, and real Italian charm. I love it! And it's just a 15 minute train ride to Milan!
• My cooking class in the Lake Como region...the food was unbelievable, the class informative, and the city of Varenna stunning. Wow.
• I walked into a very pretty little English language school and asked if they were hiring. They promptly THANKED me for walking in the door, since they were looking to hire new staff. I had an interview later that week and was hired! What are the chances?
• Eating buffalo mozzarella pizza...it was orgasmic. No other way to describe it.
• Meeting more of Guido's incredible friends.
• Spending the weekend in Cinque Terre and having more incredible food, lots and lots of fantastic wine, and celebrating life, beauty, and Italy.
• Knowing that I was coming back in two months to start my life with Guido!

Okay, before you gag on all my happiness, here are some pictures of my trip. Enjoy!

Jen vs. the Volcano

My trip to Italy started with a bit of a hitch...my flight was canceled due to the infamous Iceland volcano, with no promise of when it would open again. It was Saturday. I had just over one week off work, and the clerk behind the check-in desk said "We don't know anything. Maybe you can fly on Tuesday or Wednesday?"

I hadn't seen Guido in three months, and had been looking forward to this day so much, that when they gave me the news, I crumpled to the ground and started crying as soon as I walked away from the desk. I was totally pathetic.

Turkish Airlines put me up in a wonderful hotel for the night, where I had a lonely poolside dinner with a bunch of other solo travelers who were looking at much longer delays than I was. I trekked out to the local computer cafe and began calling Turkish Airlines and looking at my options, banking on the hope that the "squeaky wheel gets the oil" theory. At that time, the only Europe flights going out were to Bulgaria and Greece. I found out how to take a ferry to Italy from Greece, and if a flight didn't open up for Sunday, then I was going to do it. I was desperate and up for an adventure.

Just when I was prepared to book a ferry ticket, I called Turkish Airlines again. "We have a flight to Rome tomorrow!" they said. Guido and his father helped me book a train from Rome to Milan (3 hours), just barely getting one for Sunday evening as the tickets were purchased by the second. After all the cancellations, some further travel hiccups, and seeing travelers sleeping in the Istanbul airport, I was skittish that I wouldn't actually make it. But once our flight lifted off for Rome, I was so joyful that my cheeks hurt from grinning. I was going to make it to Italy.

On the flight, I met two girls from Croatia who were trying to get home and had no idea how they'd make it. We discussed ferry options (which I'd become a recent expert at) and talked about our trips. Another guy on the train from the airport had just flown into Rome, trying to get to Austria as soon as possible. The trains to northern Europe were booked for four days out already...who knew what happened to him.

My train finally arrived in Milan at 11pm and I rushed into Guido's arms. As we held hands and dragged my luggage through the station, we saw people sleeping in alcoves on their luggage, trying to find any way possible to get home. The volcano had brought Europe to a halt. I couldn't help but feel enormously blessed. I'd somehow managed to arrive.

A Not So Happy Moment in Turkey

I had a rough day the other day. I have two Facebook accounts, one for friends and family, and one for my Turkish students. I was looking through the homepage of my student Facebook account and saw a Youtube video titled "Americans are Bloody Idiots!" The video (which you can watch below) was both funny and painful. Basically, some British guys interviewed a bunch of Americans on the street and asked them some basic political and geography questions that people weren't able to answer (such as "Name a country that begins with the letter "U"...as in, the United States...or "What religion are most Israelis?"...some people answered "Islam").

If they'd just posted the video, it would have been fine. But the comments that followed were really hard to read: several of my students writing (in English): "Yeah, Americans think they're so great, but they're really a bunch of idiots" and "I totally agree with you, but what can we do?" and "I agree with my brothers," etc. All from MY students...and ones I was close to, at that.

It really upset me, for several reasons. One of them is that it's easy to take a video and only post the responses that make Americans look bad. And the responses were pretty bad, I must say. But I didn't want my students to make conclusions about Americans based on that video when there are so many intelligent, thoughtful, geographically aware Americans out there.

Secondly, it was painful because some of the stereotypes people all over the world have about us are true: many of us don't have a really good sense of geography and aren't very aware of global politics. Time after time, I hear this from people I've met who spent time with traveling Americans--they were very kind, very friendly, and really misinformed and uneducated about the rest of the world.

But mostly, it was hard because I'm entering my ninth month in Turkey tomorrow, and I'm starting to see the reality of Turkish beliefs towards Americans. And to be quite frank, they're really not good. A lot of it is a result of Turkey's increasingly strong ties with conservative Islamic nations such as Iran and Saudi Arabia. Some of it is backlash from the war in Iraq and Bush's policies.

But the point is, it's hard to be the only American your students have ever met, and learn how negatively your nation is viewed. I understand their frustrations, but at the same time, I want them to remember that there are so many GOOD people out there and that you can't confuse a nation's government with its people.

I decided to confront my students about it. They were horrified that I'd read their post and then commented on it. One of them--the one I'm closest to--took me out to dinner and drove me and my groceries home so I didn't have to take the bus. But I'm still haunted by all the comments I hear that my colleagues and students are letting slip more often these days...it makes me wonder how the U.S. and Turkey will mend these broken ties and build a new relationship again.

Breaking News in Turkey

Okay, I couldn't resist. I just had to include this crazy story about a goat that somehow shot two farmers with a gun! I know, it's awful to laugh at such things, but it's just so bizarre...click here for the story. Just so you know, neither farmer was fatally injured so it's okay to giggle a little bit at the maniacal goat photo...

Spring has sprung

I didn't realize it till I saw these two lovebugs celebrating the new season that'll arrive on the 20th. But now I can see that signs of spring are popping up everywhere...the green grass in the fields, tiny orchids daring to pop out of the ground, birds chirping in a loud chorus in the morning...life is returning to cold Isparta, and I am super happy. Here are two pictures from a recent hike outside my house.

Heart to Heart

I had an interesting conversation with a student about her time as an Erasmus exchange student in the Czech Republic two years ago. She talked about how she and her peers were treated by other Europeans during her time there, and I have to say that the picture wasn't very flattering. Many of the Europeans asked why some Turkish girls didn't wear scarves while others did, they didn't understand why the girls drank alcohol when the Koran forbade it, and they expressed surprise in general at the girls' overall modernity.

But the questions weren't the difficult part, it was the assumptions: that Turks ride camels (come on!), a serious belief that Turkey had no skyscrapers (haven't they ever seen a picture of Istanbul?), and a general misunderstanding about how strictly Turks follow the Koran. The girls were ostracized quite a bit, and generally only hung out with each other, even though their English was pretty strong. Some of my other students who lived in Belgium for some time had teachers that treated them like second-class citizens because of their nationality, and made comments about camels and skyscrapers as well. More than anything, all of my Turkish students have been shocked at how little people know about their country, and the level of cultural prejudice people have for their nation.

A lot of Turks really think that Americans don't like them either. I went to meet some local high school students the other day to give a presentation about my trip to Egypt. At the end of the presentation, after several questions about whether I was married and what people like to eat in the United States, etc., a young girl raised her hand and said, "Do Americans hate Turkey?"

I was flabbergasted.

It surprises and saddens me, because it highlights the misinformed perceptions so many people have about Islamic nations, and Turkey in particular. My student mentioned something her Prime Minister had said about Turkey, something to the effect that Turkey is the far east of the West, and the far West of the East, a variation of the often used comment that Turkey is between the East and the West. Though it may be cliché, I do find it to be true. And I suppose this makes both sides wonder where exactly Turkey stands on certain issues, even while many Turks struggle to create a solid identity for itself out of this dichotomy.

Regardless, I'm really disappointed that so many Europeans are so uneducated about Turkey. Despite its tenuous leanings sometimes this way, sometimes that way, Turkey is a part of Europe geographically, and it's time Europeans learned a bit more about their culturally rich and diverse neighbor, whether they're part of the EU or not.

Salep!

Let me tell you about my new obsession.

It all began in Egypt, when I tried my friend Mark's saleb, a warm, creamy and sweet milk drink. It was so fabulous that I had to try the Turkish version once I got back home, so I organized a posse of my sophomore girls to go try it with me. We went and found a local vendor and sat outside his little shop and drank the salep (as it is spelled in Turkey) while we shivered in the cold. It was perfect.

What is salep, you ask? Well, salep is made from salep four, which--ready for this?--is made from orchids! I had no idea! (See the botanical picture below.) Anyway, they dry out the orchid tuber and use the flour. For the foodie geeks out there, salep flour apparently has some nutritious starch-like polysaccharides--plus the guy at the stand told us it helps with lactation. (I'm glad there were Turkish women there to translate--the body gestures would have been interesting for that one.)

Some folks also say that the name salep comes from an Arabic expression ḥasyu al-tha`lab, which translates to "fox testicles"--a great way to explain the appearance of the orchid tubers. And the word orchid in Greek--get ready for some more news--also means...testicles! So of course salep is also considered an aphrodisiac. I am going to try asking for fox testicle milk next time and see what happens.


Salep is made by adding water to the salep flour, and then adding milk and sugar. The result is a thick drink with the consistency of warm milk thickened with cornstarch, with cinnamon (optional) added on top. Or maybe it's more like warm, slightly thin, vanilla pudding. Apparently there is also a salep pudding and salep ice cream made from the powder.


There is a downside though...the popularity of salep has led to a serious decline in the population of wild orchids, and it's now illegal to export true salep out of the country. Why is everything yummy bad for the planet?? Anyway, I had better enjoy it while I can...even if it makes me feel a little guilty.

You can see me and the girls here outside the shop. I have to admit it: I've been to several cafes around town to compare the best...I'm still not sure who wins.

Bowling in Isparta

My students compose about eighty percent of my social life these days--I'm not embarassed to admit it. Recently, a small group of my freshman girls and I went bowling downtown. I have to say that Turks are not renowned for their bowling talents. I rolled a 105 and had a score that was about 20 points higher than anyone in the alley (there were seven other lanes). One of the other girls in my group rolled a 28, and that's only because one of our teammates accidentally bowled for her one round. It was almost amazing.

After we went bowling, we played air hockey and I screamed and yelled and made so many insane gestures during the game that my students and I were laughing so hard that we couldn't breathe. Finally, we went out for some fabulous hot chocolate, served with fresh whipped cream and nuts inside (yeah, nuts--it's great!).

It was the most fun I'd had in weeks (I don't get out much). I have to say, I really love my students.

Gluten-free Pasta

A couple weeks ago, something really special happened to me--one of my best friends, Melanie, sent me a gluten-free package in the mail full of pastas, baking mixes (brownies here I come!), and aluminum-free deodorant. Woo hoo!

Usually the Turkish post is quite good, but I have heard of some packages getting completely hijacked. For example, one of my colleagues sent himself a box of American paraphernalia to share with his students (magazines and the like) and ended up receiving a box of pots and pans, in the same box. Someone had literally opened his box, removed all the materials, and then refilled his box with pots and pans.

I mean, do they have a stock of these things for such situations? And what exactly was so contra band in that box that they had to empty it? And why not just keep the box--why send him kitchen ware as some kind of consolation? Or...is that the Godfather equivalent of the horse head in your bed here? This might be something to look into...

Anyway, I was getting nervous three weeks after she'd shipped it, but when it finally arrived I almost cried. (Actually, I think I wept a little. Seriously.) I ate the box of crumbly gluten-free cookies within one week (showing immense restraint), and I have been eating a small square of Swiss Dark Chocolate every day since (I still have 1/3 a bar left--even more immense restraint). I've made a yummy creamy mushroom pasta dish, and tonight I had a simple tomato and spinach topping for my fake fusilli.

But one of my favorites was something I would almost never have back home, but was oh-so-good here. And that's gluten-free mac and cheese, baby! Pictured here, in all its glory. I sat in front of my bedroom window on a cloudy day and enjoyed every bite.

Just goes to show you never know what you'll miss or crave when you're far from home. The best part of all though, I must admit, was the birthday card Melanie and her two-year old made for me. Thanks, Mel, for sending me a slice of home--I needed it. I have to admit it; I miss you all way more than gluten-free pizza--and that's saying something.

Earthquake in Turkey

An earthquake with a magnitude of 6.0 just hit the eastern part of Turkey, leveling several villages clustered around the epicenter in Karakoçan near the city center of Elazığ. According to recent updates, 57 were killed and 71 injured (changed from 41 dead earlier today and 100 injured).  My heart goes out to those affected by the quake.

To read more, check out an article here.

More on the Armenian Genocide

I've read a whole lot of articles lately about the Armenian Genocide decision that was narrowly passed yesterday by a House Panel, 23 to 22. I'm trying to figure out how best to distill everything for those of you who aren't as likely to read all the articles, but might like to know a little more about the situation. Now, I am no expert, mind you--so remember that as you read. But I do feel a little bit responsible to introduce you to some of these issues since I'm here, and you're...well, there. (Excepting my ELF counterparts, of course).

So, I am hoping I was pretty clear in my last post, but basically, here's the issue with the genocide decision. The problem is that historians do not completely agree on whether or not the enormous amount of Armenian deaths that took place during 1914 and 1922 (approx) were a genocide or not. Genocide requires a premeditated intention, wheras Turks argue that the deaths were casualties resulting from an internal civil war and the numbers of those who died were inflated by biased historians.

But let's look at the history. During the end of the Ottoman Empire, various political groups formed a coalition called the Young Turks, which were working towards the reformation of the Ottoman Empire's administration, particularly in response to the authoritarian Sultan Abdul-Hamid. The term Young Turks generally referred to members of the society that were liberal progressives and opposed to the status quo, and many members of this coalition were not only politicians, but also artists, scientists, administrators, etc. The Young Turks were led by three men who were sometimes referred to as the Three Pashas (Pasha=a civil or miltary official).

The Young Turks envisioned a secularist, constitutionalist state (unlike their current Islamic empire, ruled by a Sultan), ruled by a select group of elite individuals (not necessarily elected democratically, though). Their political activism and intellectualism helped pave the way for the revolution eventually brought about by Mustufa Ataturk, the founder (and national hero) of present-day, secularist and democratic Turkey.

During this tumultuous time (around 1913), an umbrella organization, the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP, )operated at the center of several progressive groups, including the Young Turks. It is CUP's agenda that is under a lot of scrutiny today. At one point, over 20 Christians were a part of their organization. But later, some historians say that CUP began to distrust the Armenians, who were also Christian, accusing them of siding with the Russian cause.

It was the Young Turks who were in power when Turkey aligned itself with Germany in World War 1, in March of 1914. The Turks attempted to attack primarily in the East, hoping to capture what is now Baku, Azerbaijan, in an attempt to make a major blow against the Russians. They were defeated. Most historians agree that during this time, there were some Armenians who formed guerilla groups within Turkey and cooperated with the Russians, including the brief takeover in 1915 of Van, an eastern Turkish city near the present-day Iranian border.

And then the big event happened, in April 24, 1915, a day Armenians commemorate year after year. In response to these small pockets of Armenian rebellion, several hundred Armenian intellectuals were rounded up, arrested, and executed. This was the beginning of what the Armenians refer to as the Armenian genocide.

What happens next is where the debate starts. According to many historians, Armenian soldiers were rounded up and sent to labor camps or murdered. Armenians were forced to turn in their weapons and their material wealth, and most had to flee their Turkish homes. Many were driven into the mountains where they starved or froze to death.

But the question is this: Was this an intentional campaign ordered and executed by the Young Turk regime? Or was it the result of a nation in war-time chaos, disparate groups acting out against the Armenians without any specific "intention"? Remember that intention is required to qualify the deaths as genocide.

Turks do not deny that Armenians died during this period. What they fight against is that pre-meditated intention; or in legal terms that we're familiar with, they argue that it wasn't first degree murder. There is also debate about how many Armenians were actually killed, as the number would determine the label as well. If there were many less murdered than the Armenians claim (they say that about 1.5 million died as a result of a Turkish campaign), then it's much easier to argue that the deaths were not a systematic attempt to wipe out the Armenian population, but the results of the civil war.

The American ambassador to the Ottoman Empire during that time had this to say about the situation: “When the Turkish authorities gave the orders for these [Armenian] deportations, they were merely giving the death warrant to a whole race; they understood this well, and in their conversations with me, they made no particular attempt to conceal the fact.”

Though the CUP party was eventually dismantled, some of their philosphies formed what remain the current Turkish approach towards Armenia. Kazim Karabekir told Russian peacemakers that Armenians would not be allowed back into Turkish lands as they had died of "a rebellion of their own making". Another disturbing quote comes from a Turkish historian who specializes in the Armenian conflict, Taner Akçam. Akçam identified four definitions of Turkey during Ataturk's rule, which he posits have been passed down through generations. The second of those rules is: "Turkey is a society without ethnic minorities or cultures." Akçam is one of the few Turkish historians who believe that the Armenian deaths should be labeled a genocide.

Part of the Turkish-Armenian reconciliation would involve both countries opening up their archives, really examining both country's records, and coming to an agreement about exactly what happened. Armenia will likely not be satisfied until this issue is fully settled, but it's quite possible that Turkey would never admit to genocide, no matter what the evidence. But while 20 European countries do refer to the deaths as a genocide, I still think that the House Panel was unwise to proceed with the vote at this moment. It's important to let Turkey and Armenia work through this process without too much American intervention. I personally think this is a task for Armenian and Turkish historians to sort through--not one for politicians to decide.

That said--I won't deny that Turkey's relationship with its minorities is disturbing at times. I will never forget the other day when I did a lesson on the civil war. I talked about slavery and the struggles African Americans went through to fight for their freedom.

One of my students mentioned the deaths of the Native Americans in our country, and then said: "Teacher, Americans sure have a lot of problems with their minorities."

I laughed, thinking about how simple the statement was for the complexity of our ethnic reality in the States. "Oh and Turkey doesn't have any problems with minorities?" I asked, thinking of Turkish tensions with Jews, gays, Kurds, Armenians, etc.

My students just shook their heads and said no.

"Oh really?" I said, then stopped, not sure what to say. "That's...interesting."

And they all laughed knowingly--as if they were all in the joke, but could never admit the truth out loud.

Speaking about the Unspeakable

They only bring it up in hushed voices, if at all. You're not really supposed to talk about it, and someone might say one thing in front of one group of people and then admit an entirely different opinion to you over tea in their office, behind a closed door. There's one word that you don't mention around here outloud, and that's the word "genocide." You don't talk about the fact that in 1914, many historians say that there were approximately two million Christian Armenians living in Turkey, and that by 1922 there were fewer than 400,000. Were 1.5 million Armenians murdered in Turkey  from World War 1 (1914-1918) through the early 1920s? Armenians want Turks to finally accept the blame.

A House panel is voting today on whether or not the death of those 1.5 million Armenians will be referred to as a genocide by the U.S. If the vote passes then it'll go to a full House vote, meaning it could be implemented into American foreign policy. Turkey has warned the U.S. that if this vote goes through, already weakened ties will be further strained with the U.S., a threat that has defeated the measure when it's gone to the House in the past. But Obama's silence on the issue (unlike Bush and Clinton who did not support the label) confuses Turks and Americans alike--will he support the measure or will he refute it? Is it possible that the U.S. would be willing to weaken its ties with Turkey over a simple word?

I'd understand if you thought as I did before I came to Turkey: What's the big deal? It's just a word. It was during an atrocious war and the dissolution of the Ottoman empire--it occurred even before Turkey, as we know it today, was an official nation. (Or maybe you don't know even that much, and your protests stop after "It's just a word.") But the fact is that Turks are very proud of their heritage and don't want such a horrifying historical act--a genocide--applied to them. Who wants to be compared to a Nazi?

What is genocide, exactly? According to Oxford (and it's all about semantics in this argument), genocide is the "deliberate killing of a very large number of people from a particular group or nation." So the question everyone is asking is, was the death of those 1.5 million Armenians deliberate or not? Was there a planned attempt to wipe Armenians off the Turkish map? Or was it the unfortunate, but accidental result of a devastating European war and the dissolution of an Empire?

A New York Times article says that it's considered a crime in Turkey to "even raise the issue of what happened to the Armenians" because it "insults Turkishness." I can't verify the legality for sure, but it is certainly an offense of the highest order here in Turkey, and an issue that (as a foreign teacher) you really don't want to bring up to anyone, unless you want all of your university to know.

What remains in question: Were there actually over two million Armenians in Turkey before WWI? Is that number correct? Some historians say there were many less Armenians in Turkey than that at the time. And how can one prove if it was systematic, or the fault of a destabilized country, the masses acting separately from  any premeditated dictate from above? And does Armenia deserve that moral high ground when they drove one million Azeris (residents of Azerbaijan) out of its disputed region Karabagh? Will the U.S. also pressure them to budge on that issue? Azeris are closely tied to Turkey (they call themselves a sister country) and the Azeris I know refuse to do anything but spit out the word genocide like a swig of bad tea.

But the facts are recorded in history, label or not: Women were raped and murdered. Armenians were driven into the mountains and left to starve. Dissenting Armenian intellectuals were rounded up and executed. Members of the army were disarmed and transferred into labor batallions where they were either killed or worked to death.

This is no easy deicsion. If the House of Reps votes yes on this bill, it severely threatens its relationship with an important ally, and bows down to a claim in a way that may be overtly politically motivated since historians are not all in agreement on this issue. I honestly think it would be a foolish decision, despite what I might think about whether or not it was a genocide. The event happened in the past, before Turkey was an established nation, and I'm not sure I see the point in the U.S. getting so intimately involved.

Yet to vote that the deaths were a genocide would also provide a vindication for millions of Armenians, who have a very strong lobby in the U.S., and who still feel pain over the suffering their ancestors went through.

It will be interesting to see what Washington decides...and how the results trickle down to my little university. Until then, I had better stop writing about the issue from my office...it makes me a little uncomfortable, if you know what I mean.

For more info, you can read a historical account (I'm not saying it's unbiased though) from the NY Times here.
Here's a more recent account of the decision in the Wall Street Journal.
And more articles in a Turkish online paper here and here.

My life in Orange--

I started teaching an English poetry course last term and taught my students Shakespeare and the British Romantics. My students were a little bit bored with the Romantics by the end of the term, though they kind of got into it at the end, when I had them choose their favorite poem and poet and research them for their final.

I decided I wanted them to really get into poetry in a new way. I'm doing a couple of different things this term and so far am really excited. We're working with the modernists--whose language play is interesting and exciting--and other contemporary poets whose poems they can get fairly easily, or with just a little explanation.

The students also present a poet each class, which helps them have a little more ownership. I also try to mix in an easy to understand contemporary poems with some of the less simple older poets, like Emily Dickinson. For example, we're reading "Taking off Emily Dickinson's clothes" by Billy Collins while reading Dickinson, an event that made my students giggle and blush like twelve year-olds. (One of my students said, "I can't keep reading teacher!" as he read the part where the narrator's hands part the fabric "like a swimmer's dividing water." I mean, read it here. It's SO tame.)

Anyway, at the end of my last class, I did an activity. I cut up a bunch of oranges--which got them really excited (free food!). Then I gave them each a wedge. They were so confused and curious. Then I had them look at the orange and describe it, and think of metaphors, i.e. "this orange is like a smile," "this orange is like the sun," or "this orange is sweet and juicy."

Then I had them eat it and do the same. The metaphors again were pretty weak, but they started to get the hang of it and what I was asking them to do. They started to take risks, which is what the poets we're reading were doing. I was asking them to go outside of themselves, to take leaps, to use their imaginations in ways no one has ever asked them to before.

Turkish students are often very poetic anyway (more than my American students ever were in general). They often surprise me with their metaphors. In response to Emily Dickinson's "Hope is a Thing with Feathers" my students had to write a poem with an opening line that was "_____ is a thing with ____" where they chose an abstract idea such as love, and compared it to an animal or insect. One of my students wrote: "Life is a hungry pig..." which blew me away. Have you ever heard such a comparison? I loved her poem.

Anyway, the exciting part was when we got to the orange peel. Suddenly--I don't know if it was the progression or just the emptiness and inherent melancholy of an empty peel--but their metaphors became fantastic. They were talking about how the orange peel was like a cradle for a baby...and then it was like a family without a baby because the peel was empty. The orange peel was like humanity, a shell we use to protect ourselves to hide our sweetness inside. They went on and on...I wish I could remember them all.

It was so beautiful to be in that room with them, talking about how small things can be breathtakingly beautiful, how the most mundane object can be a metaphor for the most complicated feelings or experiences. It was a new way of thinking for them, and so profound. So now their homework (besides the assigned reading) is to spend their free time looking around at the ordinary things--a lamp post, a piece of trash at the bus stop, a pencil on the floor--and make them extraordinary by looking at them deeply, by seeing what meaning they can give them, what the object can inspire in them.

I think that's going to be my new homework for life.