Istanbul, not Constantinople
Turkey may be technically part-European, and the cosmopolitan centre of Istanbul and the beaches of Bodrum may look incredibly like Paris or Ibiza, but outside the tourist spots it's a different world. Mosques sound the call to prayer five times a day. People slaughter sheep in yearly festivals. Families live in the same house or block of flats.. It's a traditional, family-oriented, slower-paced world that's a refreshing break from Western culture.
Find out more about Turkish: TV Music Sayings Driving
The view from Birgul's window. Her family is Alevi, a mystic branch of Shia Islam. Like many of their neighbours, they don't go to the mosque or pray five times a day. But there's still a beautiful mosque in their run-down neighbourhood, which belts out the call to prayer five times a day. Go figure. (The call to prayer woke me up at 6am every day - click here to hear a sample, along with views of Istanbul's most famous landmarks)..
Me, my friend Birgul and her family sitting around the dinner table (the stuff in the bowls is corba - Turkish soup - which is the best in the world)
L-R: Birgul's brother-in-law, her sister, her dad, her mum, her other sister, Birgul, me.
A typical Turkish breakfast, in the one heated room on a traditional round tray. We ate over the tray without plates (less washing-up - yay!). Kahvalti consists of tomatoes and cucumbers, cheese and ham, olives, jam, butter, pogaca (the brioche-y things in the middle), and cikolek (dry cottage cheese from the east of Turkey). Cikolek tastes amazing with fresh bread.
The coal stove (sobah) that heats one room in the house where everyone socialises and sleeps. It's also great at keeping bread and tea hot, boiling water for baths, warming and drying clothes, and burning garbage (including plastic. oops).
Me and Ilknur, Birgul's cousin. We're sitting on the sofa bed I slept on every night. I'd also slept on it most of that day because I was sick with food poisoning. Not pleasant when the toilet is a hole in the ground, but Birgul's family looked after me like one of their own : )
Me and Birgul messing about - this is in the non-coal stove room, where her brothers sleep (brrr).
Birgul and her brothers, Mustafa (left) and Emrah. Emrah's an absolute sweetie, he went out and bought me aspirin when I was sick.
Birgul's mum (right) and aunt. Birgul's mum, a migrant from the east of Turkey, hasn't had a day of school in her life. Birgul has a university degree, which shows how much has changed in a generation.
It's not just things like the call to prayer and the hole-in-the-ground loo that tell you you're in a completely different culture. Turkey has plenty of fun and hilarious cultural differences that make being in the country a joy and/or a pain (and, if you're like me and you used to teach English there - Birgul is an ex-pupil of mine - a huge nostalgia trip).
Turkish TV is very much like French or Italian TV - in other words, absolute crap. You can choose from 4 types of show: awful game show (see left), awful music show (see 'music'), the news ('Finance Minister caught with holes in socks!!' - yes, really), or awful soap operas (involving violin music, unnecessary close-ups and lots of people crying).
Turkish music can be beautiful, with instruments like the saz (right - click
here for typical music with saz). It can also have a lot of whiny singers, with an unfortunate abundance of moustachioed old men in 70s lounge suits.
Here's an example of Ibrahim Tatlises, whose looks are enough to spark a 'Saddam is not dead' theory.
There are as many
Turkish sayings as there are occasions. You're never stuck for something to say - it's great! Someone sick? Say 'gecmis olsun' (may it pass quickly). Working? 'Kolay gelsin' (hope your work is easy). Travelling? 'Iyi yolculuklar' (happy travels). From engagement to death to people visiting to giving a gift, there's a stock sentence. But don't congratulate someone if she has a baby - the proper response is 'Masallah', to deflect possible harm by the jealous evil eye (the amulets pictured left are for the same purpose).
Turkish driving is utter insanity. Birgul and co picked me up from the airport and missed the turnoff to get to her house. Her brother was about to reverse back to it down the freeway when I yelped. So he carried straight on (phew). Pictured right is a 'dolmus', a Turkish bus which doesn't leave for its destination until it's full ('dolmus' means 'stuffed'). Most of them have 'Allah korusun' ('May God protect') written on the front, which means the drivers are free to run stop lights and flatten pedestrians, knowing the Almighty is looking out for them (gotta love Turkish fatalism).
