First family escapade with William

We planned a long week-end get-away before William was born thinking we might need it at around this time... and how right we were!

Despite the fact that Robinson Club Nobilis had been recommended to us by a single Mum friend who had been there last year with her nearly 2 year old daughter and her parents, it was our first try at an all-inclusive holiday, so we didn't want to commit too much time or money to it before we knew what we were getting into and whether or not we would actually enjoy it.

Well, our Turkish escapade to Antalya was fantastic!
The organization was par to none and the flowers, the sun, the pool, the food, the clown shows and kid-disco in the evening for Emma and the pulley, the games, the staff... really, it was all good.
Except next time we are not flying at 5h30 am!! and we'll make it longer!

Pics of our holiday click here

Never say never

Who would have thought that I'd be missing Izmir?

Certainly not me during (at least) our first six months there!!!

But it's true, I miss Izmir.
Maybe 'cause I never got to properly say good-bye (I mean, I was all wrapped up in going back to Geneva to have Emma, so you can't really blame me for not fully realizing I was going to be moving again, and to a place I had never been to be before - my first visit to Vienna as a toddler does not count!)

I miss the sun!!! the mild 14°C winters and the blue skies (today it snowed in Vienna!)
I miss the green beautiful garden all around our house and the incredible colours and light



I miss the fact that there were hardly ever any traffic jams - although the turks are crazy drivers!
I miss sitting on the terraces of nice cafés chatting or gossiping with friends
I miss being part of a group of women like the International Women of Izmir (IWAI)

I miss going to Bostanli market on Wednesdays with the ferry boat and all the yummy veggies and fruit, olives and nuts that I used to buy there!
I miss Kemeralti Bazaar were I could browse around and enjoy a "çai" or a coke in the shade

I miss the spacious huge house we lived in (although I don't miss the nutty cleaning lady Hamide)

I miss delicious Turkish breakfasts and weekends in Istanbul or Alaçati

(More Alaçati pics)

I miss walking Balou around the flower scented grounds
when all I needed to do was slip on a pair of sandals and a light sweater (that would be a dream now with Emma, instead of pulling on her hat and fitting her hands and arms into a warmer coat or sweater before zipping her into her fleece nest)

I know, I know, you're thinking: "the grass is always greener..." right? But actually, no matter how unhappy and lonely I was in the beginning in Izmir, I never got nostalgic about Geneva. I never had moments of imagining Geneva and Vandoeuvres and missing our life there. I can't say that now about Izmir...
I guess maybe I wasn't quite ready to leave. I think maybe I had just began to feel at home there and I imagine that it would have been nice to return there with baby Emma and introduce her to the friends that were there during my pregnancy.

Also, I have to admit that unfortunately a lot of the good things about Izmir were lost on us for a while there in the beginning. It took us a long time to shift mindsets and stop wanting things to be smooth in the way we wanted them to be. It took us a long time to stop fighting the way things were, a long time to appreciate the smiles and the effort and care less if the actual service/end-result was not always top notch. This in turn meant that we could not enjoy Izmir for what it was, and truly enjoy its positive if sometimes quirky sides.
A lingering feeling of untied knots....

Anyway, back to now: it would be good to spend less time wanting something else than what Vienna has to offer and be able to enjoy it for what it is before another semester goes by... even if discovering the city is made more difficult with a babe and the winter climate.
And if ever we return to a developing country again, especially one with 14° winters, I'll be happy with the septic tank after Vienna's waters and winters.

Oh Boy! it's a Girl! Not?

Since the moment I was noticeably pregnant, not once has someone here asked me "Are you expecting a girl?" Quite the opposite in fact, most people greeted me with "You're expecting a boy?"

Having picked up on the fact that (for most) it was clearly a desirable thing to have a boy, (and noticed that announcements of us expecting a girl were either met with apologetic mimics and shrugs as if implying "better luck next time" or reactions of surprise as if their "guessing method" could not fail them) I took these "affirmestions" (a boy right?) to be rather sexist wishful thinking.

Granted, some people "guessed" the gender of baby according to the shape of my belly (to be honest, I'm still not clear on this- what shape is supposed to indicate what?) but no matter the "method" applied, the guessing always seemed to lead people to believe we were expecting a boy.

Yes, in this country one could say that a female child is more likely to become a "cost centre" whereas a male child is more likely to earn money and contribute to the family's welfare... but I personally believe it has more to do with an inherent belief that a boy is simply better. As simple as that. Umph. I won't even dignify this with further anything.

Anyway, the other day in a shop, once again me and my belly were greeted with the smiling "it's a boy?! when is he due?" I replied my usual "hayır, Kız" (no, a girl) and was met by exclamations of surprise bordering on skepticism.

Since this time the people asking me were of female gender and old enough to have (had) children of their own, I asked what was so surprising about there being a girl in my belly. Their English being as good as my Turkish, I didn't quite get the answer... but I did catch the word for "girl" and it was was accompanied by horrible grimaces, distorted faces and hands messing up hair - not nice. Whatever....

A few days later, when asked when "he was due", I took the opportunity of an English speaking Turkish woman's presence to question her about the mystifying grimaces and assumptions I had encountered.

She laughed and said: "in Turkey people believe that a baby girl steals her mother's beauty, whereas a baby boy makes her more beautiful... so you see, it's a compliment, because you look nice."

Typical...

According to baby gender folklore and 38 fun ways to guess your baby's sex I should indeed be expecting a boy....

favorite things & bad timing

One of my favorite things now days in Turkey is the yummy fresh fruit and veg.

I loved smelling the sweet strawberries at the market as early as April - and they taste wonderful.

It's a treat having cherries, melon and watermelon in May and delicious apricots and peaches in early June. Believe me, there's nothing like juicy and sweet fruit when you're pregnant to your eyeballs!

The thing is, often we realize what we like and enjoy when faced with the opportunity or threat of having to leave them behind, give them up, change ways...

Recently it seemed more than likely that we would leave Izmir and Turkey (all the yummy things above, but also the huge house, garden for the dog, shared pool on the grounds, sunny weather and basically the fact of having been here a year which means we know a few nice people and places...) for a place I've never been to but that

• looked like this when hubs went to visit (talk about a change in climate!)
  
• is often thought of as being extremely modern and liberal and brilliant for women and mums (not your typical idea of Turkey)
  
• but that didn't really inspire me after I had read this and this (unfortunately by the same author which doesn't give much perspective... but hey reading her was really dissuasive!)

Clearly it's not all about leaving Turkey, after all we will be leaving some day, and probably sooner rather than later, but right now there's also a strong timing component.

I think it's safe to say that, no matter the destination, moving with a newborn (packing or living out of boxes, temporarily living in a furnished flat while trying to adjust to feeding at all hours and sleepless nights, knowing nothing and no-one in a new city, house-hunting...) is about the most repulsive idea I can come up with at the moment.

Moving is stressful.
Having a baby is huge.
One at a time is enough.

Timing is key. Can we at least wait until bebek is say, 4 months old?


moving Stockholm yummy fruit leaving Turkey destination unknown and bad timing

The most expensive shoes in the world...or Don't mess with Turkish Customs

Who would have thought hey? Simple Birkenstock for my preggie feet going for 29,95 Euros on TobiasMayer.com. They would have cost me less if I had flown to Germany and brought them back to Turkey myself!

Until this incident, I had had no trouble having books from Amazon & Nespresso coffee delivered to my door here in Izmir. At most I had to pay a few Liras for postage.

I had heard stories of people who had ordered vitamins or food supplements from abroad, being asked to explain exactly what the package contained at the post office. No surprise - anything edible is always suspect.

But Birkenstocks? Really.
How are they any different from books? They are lighter & cheaper and they were ordered from Germany as opposed to the UK. And probably my mistake was to have them delivered by DHL - which was free by the way, since my order was for 5 pairs.

What happened? Well, they got stopped in Istanbul. DHL called me and told me they were at customs but that I could clear them.

-Agh, how does one clear customs?
-You must come here.
-Oh. Only I don't live in in Istanbul, but in Izmir....
-You can clear them in Izmir, do you want them sent to Izmir?
-Well, yes, my order was supposed to be delivered to me at my door in Izmir.
-We need you to pay 115ytl for the plane transfer and send us proof of payment and the transfer application form by fax.
-Huh?!?

Anyway, after being assured that all I needed to do was transfer the dosh and send back their application form for the shoes to arrive the next day, I figured that: a) sending them back to Germany was going to cost me at least as much and b) get them to me much later (especially if I had to have them re-sent to Geneva).

I'll spare you the details of:
-10 phone calls to customer services referring me to 5 different phone numbers of which only the last one worked
-as many emails
-no information as to which of the 3 airport terminals I was supposed to go to to claim my stuff
-a mountain of paperwork & "to and fros" from the customs office, the cargo office, the Turkish Airlines office...
-paying more dosh to cover handling fees, tax and photocopies of my passport and resident permit
-being insulted, hung up on and scolded by customs officials ("don't debate with me!") for asking why I had to pay out more money when I had already paid X amount and had been told that was all
-and finally being saved by bureaucratic overdose by a broker who was no doubt afraid I was going to go into labor right there in the customs office if I didn't calm down...

A bloody nightmare.
I can assure you, if ever you are told that your goods have been stopped by Turkish Customs, (which basically seems to have a lot to do with luck, not with the declared value or weight of your parcel) don't hesitate for a second- send them back! Whatever your goods, they are not worth the time, energy, money you will need to recover them.

Better book yourself a plane ticket to go and pick them up yourself and enjoy a weekend trip to somewhere nice as well!

Fair is fair - Four Reasons Hotel in Bodrum: Review update

About a month ago, we spent a weekend at the Four Reasons Hotel in Bodrum. No doubt one of our last escapades as a twosome not taking a break from parenting. ;-)

When choosing a hotel we don't know, we often read travellers' reviews... and logically, we also write them.

So shortly after our return, I wrote a post on this blog reviewing the 4Reasons (or the fact that 2 were missing in my opinion) outlining the inconvenience we had experienced.

We also sent in our feedback ("Great! but wait for 2008!") to tripadvisor.
Our review was posted on May 17th and is currently the first one you see of the 8 available reviews. It's also the most recent.

So now that you have the background, here's the update:

On May 28th, we received an email from one of the owner's of the 4Reasons Hotel offering apologies and two days of free accommodation at their hotel.

Better late than never. Although I doubt we'll make it back there with all that's going on, I just wanted to say that we appreciate it and also that giving your feedback makes a difference, both to the customer and the business.

So next time you feel you've overpaid, been ripped off, or badly serviced, let it be known!

Click on the letter to enlarge

Four Reasons Hotel in Bodrum: Review

A couple of weeks ago we decided that a week-end in Bodrum might be nice before the summer crowds move in and before my preggie tummy gets so huge it becomes unbearably uncomfy to drive that far in a sitting position....

We booked a room at the Four Reasons Hotel* found on the small hotels of Turkey website **

On the positive side:

-a nice view, the pool and the rooms were just as beautiful and simply decorated as shown on the websites
-the hotel manager spoke excellent English and French (and no doubt Turkish)
-service was good, breakfast (my favorite meal in Turkey and looks like I'm not the only one!) and dinner were yummy

Less impressive:
-the directions & map from their website were absolutely useless in getting us there
-the promised wireless connection remains yet to be found
-they've lost Serenity, and they might have misplaced Attitude too....


You see the 4Reasons' name not only plays on that of the world famous hotel chain, it also hints at four pillar qualities (Serenity, Quality, Design, Attitude) the hotel promises visitors. These are very visibly stamped on the hotel wall as you arrive, as well as on the hotel website, brochure, etc.

The marketing background of the owners makes it hard to believe they promise these unwittingly. Nor is it possible they are unaware of currently and regrettably failing to keep this promise, since they were staying at the hotel at the same time we were.

What am I talking about? Well, imagine being woken by bulldozers at 7h30am on Saturday. How's that for Serenity?

After breakfast (luckily, lower down by the pool the noise was minimal) we mentioned this little inconvenience to the hotel manager who apologised and said he would have a word with the workers. He later assured us that we would be able to enjoy our grâce matinée the next day and that work would start much later on Sunday morning.

To cut to the chase, on Sunday we were woken at about 7h45am. As far as I'm concerned, 15 minutes does not count as sleeping in Thankyou very much.

We again enjoyed a lovely breakfast but were frankly disappointed.
At checkout when asked how we had enjoyed our stay, (by the manger but with the owners present) we once again commented on the noise explaining what a shame it was that although the season had begun the bulldozers were still at work (and on a week-end!).
Regrettably, no gesture whatsoever was made in terms of a discount or any kind of client compensation. There goes Attitude....

Now I don't know about you, but when I book a hotel, I read reviews. When I am treated with a pro-active-client-service-attitude that can turn an unfortunate incident into an opportunity, I will whole-heartedly recommend the venue, write a raving review, go back and take friends and family with me. In fact, I will probably remember the place more positively than had nothing remarkable happened in the first place.
A lost opportunity my friends....

It's easier to claim Serenity, Quality, Design, Attitude than it is to live by them. On the other hand, the bulldozers should be temporary, Attitude can be regained and hopefully the rest will remain the same....

* click here and here for more about the 4Reasons Hotel
** Small Hotels of Turkey also publish a book on a yearly basis called "The Little Hotel Book"

Pregnant in Turkey

One of the cool things about being pregnant in Turkey is there doesn't seem to be a limit to the number of ultra-sounds you, the patient & mom-to-be, can have.

According to the various books, articles, blogs etc. I have read (& stuff other women have told me) in most of Western Europe and the UK, the standard number of ultra-sounds is 3 (one per trimester). Further up north (in Holland & Sweden) 3 seems to be a max. In fact, after they've confirmed you are pregnant, they send you home and tell you to come back once you're ready to have the baby... if, that is, you're planning to deliver in a hospital or clinic and not at home (not my cuppa personally, but whatever).

In Turkey, -at least, in Izmir, as a foreigner with a terrific (lady) Ob-Gyn who speaks good English and specializes in IVF babies (not our case)- we get to "go to the movies" (dixit an enthusiastic hubs who otherwise is as allergic as they come to hospitals) and see our "bebek" once a month! How's that for entertainment!?

Seriously, it's pretty cool. Not that I can compare with a previous pregnancy or anything like that. Just that I kind of look forward to seeing little arms and feet waving. After our first memorable visit (12 weeks, at which point our bebek not only actually looked like a human baby for the first time, but also gave us the ultimate pleasure of jumping up and down and doing a little jig!) I was so looking forward to the second one, (16 weeks) that I felt as though I'd been stood up when the little person slept through the whole appointment. The nerve, I tell ya!

OK, so they don't have insurance companies running their health policy either. And maybe not everyone has an ultra-sound this often. But your monthly appointment doesn't just last 5 minutes flat, with 20 patients waiting outside, and that feeling that really you can read up on your pregnancy on the web or contact a mid-wife instead of bothering the doc.

Our doctor here is available and a caring human being. And, should you have the slightest complication, your Ob-Gyn calls you at home to ask how you're doing. Not just once either. And you can call her on her mobile phone when you're not sure you're OK. And she drinks coffee, sometimes answers her mobile phone in the middle of a sentence, calls her assistants "kids" and has McDonald's for lunch 'cause she's just walked out of the OR where she delivered another baby. She has bad hair days, too - but she'll notice what you're wearing and compliment you on your looking nice today. And... she still has the time to do an educational show on national television about IVF and reproductive health in general. And... she has kids of her own.

I know a few people who have become doctors and who really wish they could spend as much quality time with their patients - but they would have to bill them a bomb and would get in trouble. I know of patients who think their doctors have muted from human to something akin to a mechanic for homo sapiens.
A few people I know have benefited from "medical handling" similar to this one, (in Serbia and Russia) and can compare it to medical experience (treatment for illness or pregnancy) in Australia, Switzerland, the UK, France or Holland. Without a doubt, they all preferred the perhaps less glamorous, sometimes bare and unadorned structure with a human touch to the fancy clinics where the doctor can hardly remember your name and you are beginning to wonder whether you have been swallowed by a file/case/number.

Sure, it means that you're not always seen on time and it can take some getting used to. But hey, I was worried about having "bebek" here, and now I'm thinking that my extremely competent Swiss made Ob-Gyn is going to seem a tad like clock-work after a pregnancy the Turkish way.


A BIG thanks to Isla, who noticed I was pregnant before anyone else and who took me to Irenbe after my first experience with the "gentleman-professor-Ob-Gyn" who nearly made me wish I wasn't pregnant in Turkey.


OB-GYN pregnant pregnancy ultra-sound baby foreign land

Grrr....

I know there are lots of places in the world where women are treated like less than poo (I recently heard shocking figures about France!) but this really gets to me!
I think even dear old Ataturk is turning around in his grave...


Sorry, folks, I know you're expecting an up-date on baby stuff, and I promise, I'll get to it. Right now, just know that all is fine and we are in good health at the beginning of week 14! Yay! And so far, despite the agression inducing thyroid replacement hormones I've been out on, not a crumb of violence in this home!


domestic violence

Side effects...

I forgot to mention that my sense of smell is unbelievable.
I'm pretty sure I could compete against my dog if, uh, we could uh, possibly compete... if you see what I mean.
But seriously, se-ri-ous-ly, you cannot imagine all the stuff I can smell and could really do without.
The weird thing is, my brain automatically tries to identify the smell and so when someone is talking to me I'm now wondering what they just ate/drank instead of listening to what they are saying. Agh, the mysterious ways of the brain; I guess instinct gets the priority route, whereas cognitive gets second place.

I'm sure it's great once you get used to it, but right now, I'm NOT enjoying: food shopping, going to the market, pollution, any kind of handy-work, smoke, the 7 day deodorants they sell here, public toilets (even from afar), picking up my dog's poop, newly-packaged-anything, the to-be-sold-and-sacrificed calves and lambs showing up on along the roads and in front of malls in preparation for the Big Bayram.**

What next?! (if you don't know what I'm on about but would like to, read this)

** Big Bayram or Eid-ul-Adha: the Festival of Sacrifice celebrated throughout the Muslim world, "in commemoration of the command given by Allah to Prophet Abraham (may Allah be pleased with him) to sacrifice his first born son Ishmael to Him. The fulfilment [sic] of this noble command of Allah by Abraham signifies his faith in Allah (...) In addition, like the pilgrims in Makkah (Mecca), the Muslims, who can afford to do so, offer domestic animals, usually sheep, as a symbol of Ibrahim's sacrifice. (...) Some of the meat is given to the poor -- often one third. The rest is shared among the family, relatives and friends." (source http://www.religioustolerance.org/isl_feast.htm)


first trimester pregnant in Turkey side-effects smell pregnant

Istanbul

Istanbul was great.
We were there on our own, not playing guide to friends, nor sharing our stay with business related matters. Also, having been a few times now, we've been to all the main tourist must-see locations, so we could just wander as we pleased.

It felt like autumn - it was chilly and windy and leaves were falling- not spring-like as it is in Izmir. Don't get me wrong, I definitely appreciate the warmer climate, but it somehow feels weird for it to be greener than ever in November. So I enjoyed the wind and the leaves and the Istanbul autumn sun.

It was urban. What is that supposed to mean? Well, there are lots of different cafés full of people reading weekend editions, sharing brunch and a chat. The streets were busy, young and old, fashionistas and devil-may-care, students and families strolling, window shopping and sitting on benches. I love urban trekking; discovering the contrasting neighborhoods and districts of a city, its shops and cafés, museums and buildings, parks and squares, and people from different walks of life. Istanbul is superb urban trekking territory.

Wherever you turn, there's a feeling of history mingling with modern chaos. Old crumbling buildings, renovations going on, trendy shops and bars siding with older börek shops or incense vendors, entire shops dedicated to baklava and other honey coated pastries next to up-market deco shops, banks next to knick-knack vendors, mosques and ruins. Buildings from the nineteenth century are by far not the oldest. Some are in superb condition, other are a threat to public safety, especially in a region often visited by earthquakes. The fact that they have not managed to turn it into a homogenous picture perfect newly renovated postcard gives it a rough class in my eyes. It's still a mess, and far from the polished glamour so many cities of historical importance seem to ooze, but it feels real.

There's an air of creativity and vibrant energy. Cafés, jazz clubs, garden lounges, saunas and shops are sprouting where you would never guess to look; behind the doors of a crumbling building and shabby entrance lies a café in the premises once occupied by the Italian Labour Association (Società Operaia Italiana), on terraces, roof tops, in court yards, basements, dead ends, you name it. Istanbul is vibrant with (chaotic) life.

People have gotten their tushes into gear and are being very creative in making the most out of things. Better still, they are often doing it with taste and not in view of making a quick buck on a tourist's need for a toilet-stop. I don't mean to sound patronizing, but it's definitely a welcome change, and I fully appreciated it. There's loads to discover in Istanbul and the fantastic thing is you have to look for it, it's not just being served on a plate according to some proven marketing recipe. In this respect it kind of reminds me of Belgrade; both cities manage to preserve some form of authenticity amidst the trendy urban imports, which makes them all the more enjoyable. Perhaps working on a budget has something to do with it?

more pics of Istanbul


Kanyon Shopping Mall Urban Shopping Istanbul Review

Potato Pita

In utter despair of the heating ever coming on again, I resolved to try heating myself from within. No, not in a spiritual way, or by doing exercise, but via good old carbs.
I tried J. 's recipe of Bosnian Potato pita.

Although tasty, mine looked nothing like her pics.

If you can do this without the phylo pastry tearing when folding the pita into "loose cinnamon bun shapes", let me know!

Off to Istanbul for a few...

P.S. the heating is now working!!!

Cold and intoxicated

Since I'm on my own - hubs being on a business trip including most of the week-end - (lucky him) I've decided to share my oh so positive thoughts with, well, whoever is reading...

I am FREEZING!

It's 8° degrees INSIDE since the heating is not working.
Tomorrow, in my best Turkish, I will try to get it to work. I'm a much happier person with a warm tush. But tonight, I'm practically sitting in the fireplace.

Now, I know 8°C isn't that cold, but try sitting at 8°C degrees for hours and then tell me that it's not that cold. And yes, had we moved to Russia, it would be much colder, but when I was last there, the heating worked.

Thankfully, at the moment, the electricity is on, which means I have light, water, and TV! Hurrah! My standards are getting lower by the minute.

On top of that, my dog has once again managed to swipe a whole slab of Swiss chocolate, if you please. He is now having a hard time digesting it, resulting in a farting bout that is truly unfathomable. So not only is the air cold, it is also smelly. His toxicity also means I cannot let him be the warm and wonderful foot-heater he can be. Umph.

That'll do for now.
Tomorrow is another day....

living in Turkey smell rant farting dog

When it gets cold...

It's the time of year when it gets cold and the rain is swishing around on the roads and gathering into enormous grey puddles that splash all over the sidewalks and mingle with the seawater the waves have landed on the shore. But I don't mind, 'cause inside my car, the heating is on and Jamie Cullum's mellow voice sooths the air, my windscreen wipers are on full blast, and I feel warm and safe in a island of mobile warmth and cosiness.

...walking into a warm, heated home, where you can finally remove your shoes, scarf and coat, and your skin swells with pleasure and your muscles relax - it's just an unbeatable feeling, don't you think?

I love being inside under a warm blanket, with my thick, scruffy, pink socks and a cup of tea when it's stormy and pouring with rain.

I love how, no matter the cold and the rain, there is a place you can go, light a fire, turn the heating up and listen to some music. Doesn't take much, but it's enough to make you feel totally protected and isolated from the aggressive cold and wet just meters away. Mmhhh...

Which is why, when it's 15°C inside, the hot water is cold, and the electricity is out - the darn weather wins and you actually feel more exposed than you did minutes ago driving along the wet streets and looking forward to coming home. Doesn't take much but when it's not available, you really miss basic comfort!!!!

Quarterly random bits

Before heading back to Geneva for 10 days, and since we’ve been in Turkey for four months and a bit, I thought I’d share a quarterly review on random bits and mysteries that remain to be resolved:

1. The average Turk is generally rather laid back in terms of timeliness (yavaş, yavaş), quite gentle and soft-spoken… Except behind the wheel. Watch out! Bye bye Dr. Jekyll, Welcome Mr. Hyde! Honk-Hoooonk! The relaxed Turk turns into speeding lunatic who has to overtake the car ahead even if he'll be turning off the main road 20 meters later anyway. Huh? It's like: "Hurry up so I can go home, lay back and relax!" Still a mystery to me!
   
2. Turkey is a control freak’s paradise; you’ll be able to let your controlling instincts run wild and no one will get offended when you remind them to come/go finish the job/ - in fact it’s the only way to get things done here.
3. When speaking with locals or ordering in a restaurant, remember Greek salad is not Greek, nor is Moussaka. And Baklava is certainly neither Greek (μπακλαβάς) Serbian (баклава), Romanian (baclava), nor Lebanese (بقلاوة).
4. Do the sales people realize that helping and encouraging you to buy from the shop is part of their job?
5. Luckily, the ones that are helpful really go out of their way to give you a hand!
6. Any given supermarket or market has at least 300 different white cheeses which are totally indistinguishable from the outside (all square blocks in saran wrap)
   
7. Petrol is the most expensive on earth!
   
8. When stopped by the police, or by an annoying promotion-person just say “turkçe konuşmiyorum” (I don’t speak Turkish) and you’ll instantly get an apologetic smile and a wave to move on.
9. Advocating the use anti-perspirant /deodorant that promises 7 day efficiency is a very near sighted strategy... (euh, gross!)
   
10. Ataturk is never a subject to joke about

More, with a fresh perspective, when I return!
I'm so happy to be going home!!!!!

Turkish tax strategy

Turkey, like many countries was having a hard time getting their tax money in - and they came up with a pretty innovative strategy in my opinion.

Because they didn't have the trusted manpower to check the country's businesses' bookkeeping, they implemented a pull strategy by encouraging the consumer to pressure the business.

In a restaurant or shop, it was common practice not to receive the bill, to keep income off the books. So the government decided to refund a percentage of the VAT to individuals at the end of each year -provided they could show proof of expense- for purchased clothes, food, medical goods and school supplies among other things.

By asking for the bill and claiming a refund on part of the VAT she had paid on goods during the year, a friend of mine in Izmir was refunded about 400 YTL (about 200 Euros) per year. Not bad. I can think of a few things I'd rather do with that then spending it on VAT. And it's all in the interest of the country.

The system worked well, and so gradually the state has reduced the percentage of VAT they refund - perhaps a bit quickly in my opinion, for it will take a while for the tax evasion process to "un-become" the norm.

Now-days, although you still get asked if you want the bill or not (and get offered a discount in shops if you don't want it) a larger proportion of the population has gotten into the habit of automatically pressuring the business into good bookkeeping simply by asking for the bill.

tax tax strategy VAT KDV living in Turkey expat musing

Greatness is...

I'm all for cities marketing their historical or cultural attributes.

Although a commercial pole, Izmir, for example, attracts tourists on the way to the ancient city of Ephesus (about ninety minutes drive away). Izmir itself, allegedly one of the oldest cities on the Med, looks anything but ancient with its concrete bay and mushrooming hill side houses, since it was reconstructed after the "great" fire of 1922. But greatness (or would that be grandness ?) is often associated with historical heritage... So how could the Grand Efes Hotel, in its perfect early 70's style (currently being revamped) be anything less than at least 100 years old ?
(Click on pic to enlarge)

A brave new world

Waking up this morning, I still wasn't sure whether what I was about to do would make me feel like a cowardly drop-out, or a braver, more in-touch-with-myself-person; the kind that can be a good friend to herself.

A month ago today, I started Turkish classes at state language school here in Izmir with a group of foreigners. From the start, I found the schedule too intense (4 hours a day, 5 days a week plus 2 hours a day getting there and back) and the general rhythm not to my taste. The fact that everyone but me was actually living with a Turkish boyfriend, husband, father, mother, aunt, or had a doctorate in Turkish lit. didn't really help.

The first week was exhausting as they always are. After that, most afternoons I felt so tired and heavy with indigested novelties that by the time I got home, the last thing I felt like doing was getting my head around more Turkish and doing my homework. Some days, I actually took afternoon naps I was so tired! Why is this so hard? Has my brain reached it's maximum capacity of foreign languages? Frustration at constantly trying to keep up was brimming and sapping ever more energy. Why am I doing this? Yes, I want to learn the language, but can I keep a minimum of a life too?
I hung in there.

At the end of September, I took the oral and the 4 hour (!!!) written exam, which completed level 1 and enabled me to continue on to level 2. I passed it with a pretty good score and felt almost disappointed.

On Monday, level 2 started. The size of the class had doubled but was one person short for them to split the class in two. I found myself even more frustrated due to the lack of time for each of us to practice speaking and ask individual questions. With an even larger number of people whose knowledge of Turkish way surpassed mine, keeping up was more than a headache. I felt totally miserable at the perspective of going on with the "up at 6 to enjoy 4 hours of running after comprehension before trying to figure it out at home" routine.

Waking up this morning I thought: "I've got to make learning Turkish a bit more pleasurable and find a format that's more in tune with my current level and pace or I'm going to end up hating the language".
The little devil on my shoulder piped up immediately: "You drop out. How do you expect to learn if you give it up after one month?"
I felt queasy. I'm really shite at letting go/ giving up/ leaving. Like a dog with his bone. Somehow a part of me still adheres to "you go on no matter what". Even if it's stupid, fruitless, bad for me, whatever. Up bringing, has a strong hold no matter what you learn later in life. Plus I'm stubborn.

I went to school but not to class. I waited for the break at the end of the first hour and spotted the teacher.
Couldn't you find the class? (Ouch!)
Actually, I was waiting for you. Can we talk?
Off we go to an empty class room. I explain that I'm feeling really frustrated while constantly striving to keep up with people who practice Turkish all day long, that he's a great teacher but that the format is not working for me, that I learn better when I'm happy and comfortable, and does he by any chance give private lessons?
Hurrah! He does. And he will. And he lives not far from us, so there's a no-more 2-hour-traffic-jams bonus.

Here's to making things easier on yourself 'cause you can, and 'cause it's OK.

Thanks to my honey for knowing the devil on my shoulder and helping me make the good guys win.

stubbornness expat musings foreign language learning Turkish

Learning Turkish

Turkish is an agglutinating language, which means it makes the bits in your brain stick together and become something akin to Russian kasha.

This is how it works:
Where English and other languages, need seven or so words to say something like "I will not come to the Cinema", Turkish only needs two ("sinemaya gelmiyorum").

This is because Turkish agglutinates all the bits to the verb or the noun or both:
In the example above, the negative (m) is stuck onto the root of the verb (gel) and before the subject (here first person singular indicated by "um"). The preposition "to" is the "ya" at the end of the word cinema.

This all sounds pretty simple until you start trying to identify words as someone is speaking. You might get one or two words, but they could mean a number of things -or potentially the exact opposite- depending on what is stuck on to them.

To add to the fun, the basic word order is "the woman the book read" which again sounds simple enough, cause the book can't read the woman, but wait until the sentence you are trying to understand involves two people and try to figure out who is doing what to whom!

Unexpected use of prepositions with verbs (for instance "I like *from* my friend", which literally comes out as "friend mine from very like I") combined with no distinction in between masculine and feminine (no gender whatsoever) completes the scrambling of neurones.

On the positive side, most of the endings rhyme with the word you're adding them on to and there are only six letters in the Turkish alphabet which do not exist in the English one (of which three vowels, but Turkish has no Q, W, X) so at least I don't have to learn another alphabet!

Fun, huh?


learning Turkish expat musings living in Turkey

Power cuts & flooding - final episode

... at least I hope this is the end of it, although by the looks of our parquet...

Anyone interested in setting up a gym for ants?
I'm pretty sure we could incorporate some kind of roller coaster and actually make it into a fun fair...In fact, if things keep up, we could extend the invitation to larger beasts like squirrels and stuff

Vive la vie en Turquie!