I love backgammon (or tavla in Turkish). I had no idea how to play before I came to Turkey, but now I’m fully onboard. It is the perfect activity for a sunny day at a waterfront bar or cafe. I play all the time and no longer consider myself a novice, but true aficionados . . . → Read More: Backgammon – Tavla
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In a previous entry, Christmas and Mermaids, I briefly introduced a legendary voyage through the North-Southeast Atlantic into the Bahamas. This entry also comes from that memorable time on the sailboat High Cotton. On our way between ports we would often anchor in the small cove of an uninhabited island, as there are countless in the Bahamas. One particular day we had a short day-sail (not sailing overnight) and anchored in a particularly beautiful spot. While Captain Frank (my father) relaxed in his usual oragnatan-like fashion, Cabin-boy Eric and I decided to lower the dingy in the water and investigate the booty of the nearby cays (islands). We snorkeled, fished, and were chased by an massive iguana whose name I forgot (any help Eric?), all the while collecting anything edible or interesting. This included a coconut. I had been waiting for coconut palms, I love coconut. We had just arrived to the Tropic of Cancer, into the the tropics where coconut palms grew. Thus, when I found this coconut on the middle of an island under a tall palm, that when squintily gazed up at against the baking noon sky looked like a coconut palm, I thought my patience had been rewarded. I threw the coconut in the dingy with the rest of the loot and we headed off. I get the Look a lot. I’m talking about a particular look that Turks give me when I do something outside of the strictly defined social norms here (my English roommate Steve also reports getting the look in abundance). It is not a tame look. The Look is a mixture of disbelief and disgust; if someone gave you this look you’d think they had just caught you with your junk in the apple pie. “Charlie, what have you been doing?”, you may be asking. Nothing bad, I promise. Ok, once I was beating a dusty carpet off my balcony over a crowded street and got yelled at, but I didn’t get the Look. This is because what I was doing was common, though inconsiderate. As an English teacher in Turkey I have met many Turks, and through the lessons you come to talk about a vast array of topics; here is a small assortment I’ve collected regarding the perception of America. In fact, at this point I need to disclaim that I’m an American and that my English roommate, Steve, who is also and English teacher, is the source of many of these jewels; apparently the Turks are bashful about mentioning some of the following nuggets to my face, and after reading, I think you’ll understand why. Continue reading America: Omnipresent, Omniscient Super-Villain In the winter of 05/06 I spent two months living on a 35-foot Pearson sloop named High Cotton (a sailboat, and the fact that the company that made it was the same as my last name is a coincidence – to avoid any confusion) with my father, Frank, and my good friend and nautical subordinate, Eric. The trip, which I will likely write more about later, was epic. Living in Izmir, Turkey, I spend my free time trying to tame the local language. I would take classes, but the cost and the incompatibility with my work schedule precludes than plan. So I’ve followed the course set in Teach Yourself Turkish, by David Pollard. I find it to be easy to follow and effective. Only rarely has the knowledge I’ve procured turned out to be some anachronistic Ottoman slang, most of the time it is relevant, contemporary Turkish. I also use flashcards extensively, it’s all about verbs and nouns, baby: they are the building blocks of the sentence. You may be just throwing out words with the hope that the recipient is intelligent enough to piece together your gibberish and understand you, but usually, an extensive vocabulary gets the job done. Anyways, as any native speaker of English who is abroad will tell you, people looove to speak English to you. Anything from the helpful waiter to the obnoxious solicitor hawking his wares, I mean really, I either need a spatula or I don’t, you saying ‘spatula for you’ isn’t going to push me into an impulse-buy. At first I was annoyed; how am I to learn Turkish when everyone is desperate to practice there English with me? I’ve come to accept some facts: Continue reading Türkçe Pratik Yapmalıyım In Turkey, a traditional method for remembering the recently deceased, which I really love, is that of the mourning-donut (Lokma in Turkish). When a beloved family member dies, it is customary for the surviving clan to set up a booth/tent on the sidewalk and give away free donuts for a few hours. Meet Charles Perth Pearson. My history with Charles Pearson began in high school Spanish class. I was a lanky and awkward sophomore and he was a junior with a godfather like grip on the school. At this point in my life I was still trying to identify myself as a person and a . . . → Read More: Bienvenido Charles Perth Pearson! |
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