ACTION/ADVENTURE

BLOGGING because my sister isn’t here to tell this all too.

That is like probs the only reason I blog. I mean, I just need to get my thoughts out. It’s not like I have groundbreaking ideas and solutions that need to be recorded. Just my rambles that need to be satisfied.

Words that I love:
Probs
Totes
Sad.
Fun!
Idk

Currently listening to: the Adhaan from outside (What! What!..yea that’s right)

Last time I wrote it was Friday. We had finished a week of school and had gone to a teacher’s house. The next day my housemates left Bursa to go visit their families in other cities. This left Louisa and I on our own for a week. Suddenly, the hustle and bustle of school and people stopped.

But, thankfully on Saturday we were not quite so deserted so soon. The music teacher, Zuvre, took us on a shopping trip. We met at the bus station and took a bus into the city. We went to the bazaar where there were shops filled with scarves. There were also stores filled with tons of clothes! Apparently this is where all the students shop because it is really cheap! This is totes the place for me! I refrained from buying things but made plenty of mental notes. The shopping districts are really really cool here; they are outside, inside, fancy and not fancy, old and new all at the same time. So versatile.

Afterwards, we went back to her house and she made lunch. She has a year old son who of course, loved me. He was kinda a brat, but a really cute one. I played with him and he kissed me on the cheek a lot. We drank and some tea and Zuvre told us about her husband, her wedding, her life and school. We sat there and asked each other questions back and forth. Soon, it felt like we were sisters. I asked her to do my eyebrows and she began to thread them. And it really freakin hurt. She was like going crazy. Finally I started screaming and she just laughed. But then I thought that it felt really good to be yelling at someone here and for them not to care. It felt like I had found a family member. So I gave her some lotion (velvet tuberose) my mom told me to give to somebody I thought was really nice to me. She liked it a lot.

So that finished out Saturday. Ever since then we have tried to keep busy with just ourselves. We went to the market and bought food. That was a minor victory in itself.
So the mode of transportation that we have slightly mastered is the Bus. There is a bus station down the street from us. You buy a bus card and add credits to it. We jump on Bus 23 and it takes us into the city to the shopping areas. Basically we only know when to get off when we see a certain landmark. So you really have to pay attention. The bus is usually full. But whenever someone older gets on the bus, a younger person will give up their seat, from what I have seen. THANK GOD.

This practice of giving up your seat for elders has always been in our family values. And to see it here makes me really happy. Now is this an Islamic practice, a cultural practice, or just hospitality? I don’t know, but whenever you see certain things like you really do feel linked to everyone. When I was at the students house on Thursday two of the girls got up off of the couch so I could sit down. Maybe I’m just not used to people getting up for me because I’m the one getting up for someone else. But I can’t help but continue to think about small things like that. Also, at the teacher’s house we had long elaborate dinners so there were many plates and glasses and dishes to be set on the table/floor. I can’t help but to help them set the table. I mean, it’s like in my blood. They tell me not too but I feel better just participating and helping. I think with any activity or communal affair I have to help and be active. How can you stand there and not help out? Is this Islamic, cultural or hospitality? Where does it come from? I’m not sure, but it’s in me.

And I recognize it in me being in turkey. And I recognize it in these fifth grade girls, and in my roommates, and in these teachers.

I also have been reading No god but God by Reza Aslan while I have been here. The first few chapters are a great summary of early Islamic history and culture. I have read the book but I thought rereading it here would be a good refresher course and cause me to look at historical places in a new way. I think I’m at a stage where Islamic history really means something to me and feels alive. Or I really like history but this history seems really relevant to me. More on Islam in Anatolia later.

What if I name my daughter Konya? I think konya is a cool name. Animal Collective is on and I feel like dancing.