Welcome to Ankara, where even the Cab drivers make you feel at home!

So I was going to go to work, gym and call it an early night….
Emphasis on WAS…

However, in true Annie fashion, I can never pass up a party.

Julia and I returned from getting our swell on, and were told that the Poles had decided to throw a party and invite us! We naturally couldn’t pass up such an offer, and celebrated to the music of beyonce. After getting yelled at by a disturbed neighbor (chill guy, it was only 9:00) we decided to jet set off to the Polish house in the first, of what would be three, confused cab driver rides. For some reason, the language of the cab driver is universal; they will always volunteer to take you where you want to go, even if they don’t know where it is exactly.

So we get to the Poles’ place, and through a haze of cigarette smoke we see turks, poles, a half Turkish/half polish girl, and three bottles of vodka and two bags of chips. It was then I knew we were in for a good night. After taking shots and saying cheers in multiple languages, and also disturbing the neighbors with Turkish jokes (I would repeat them, but I think you had to be there) we decided to embark upon our next mission….


…KAREOKE.

We all went to Overall, a bar/karaoke joint in whothehellevenknowswhere, and proceeded to start the party. When we arrived, no one was dancing, however we decided to change all that. Naturally, I performed my rendition of “I will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor (My token Kareoke Song) and taught the turks how to fist pump to techno and house music.

Then it was time to go- and we managed to convince another taksi to attempt to bring us home.

Mission successful!

I also want to give a shout out to Stephy Thrasher, because she rocks my world and is one of the smartest people i know!!

Welcome to Ankara, the city where gray is the new green!

Well, I guess it all started when two turks knocked on our door…

It was the Thursday of our first week at co-op, and we had not done much because classes were to start the following week. We had been getting our bearings, and staying in most nights working on a cursed Salvador Dali puzzle.

We heard the door ring and assumed it was the downstairs boys, so we opened the door without a thought and were surprised to see two tall dark and handsome men standing before us with equally confused faces. They came looking for Katie and Alex (shoutout!) who were co-op students that lived in our apartment one year ago. After exchanging small talk at the door, we deemed them, who we later found out were named Yigit and Mert, fit to enter our abode for tea. We planned to hang out on Saturday…but we will get to that part of the story soon.

Friday was our last day of the week for work, and we had a half day, so we went to go get our residence permits with Inci , one of our administrators. Of course, this entire excursion was a whirlwind of misunderstood languages, and at one point Inci answered a phone call and instructed me to copy down a number. She hung up and said, “That was Gokcel, they want you to call them because they planned a dinner.” This would have appeared to be a nice welcome, albeit the fact that none of us had any idea who Gokcel was and the details of this engagement were sketchy to say the very least. But, we had nothing better to do so we took the challenge. We called the number and found out that we were to meet at the external affairs office. On our way over, we naturally ran into Yigit and Mert, but as usual there are really only about 20 people in Turkey. There, we were stuffed onto one of the student shuttles and brought to, literally, the middle of the street, where we promptly dodged “taksis” to follow Gokcel and his posse to a restaurant. The restaurant played traditional Turkish music, which almost sounded Spanish, and the food was awesome. We all bonded, and interesting mix of American, Turkish and Polish Exchange students. When the meal was finished, we decided we didn’t want the night to end, so we went next door and had an epic bowling tournament.

Of course, some TOBB students happened to show up at the bowling alley, and offered to give us a ride home. By ride, we mean 5 people were stuffed in the back of a FIAT and I saw my life flash before my eyes as we did donuts in parking lots. We managed to make it home in one piece and decided that was enough excitement for one night.

Saturday I woke up dizzy, and spent most of the day running errands and lying down. We got a hold of Mert, and he said he would come over at 7:30 to go to the pubs. Yigit came to pick us all up and we went to “The Crow” which was the top floor of a 3 floor pub complex, which included Corvus Pub and Tutti’s. We consumed large amounts of Efes, the Turkish beer, and pretty soon we had a massive amount of Turks and Americans exchanging curse words in various languages. It would have been useful to have taken this language exchange opportunity to learn phases such as “How much is this, You’re Welcome, Have a nice day” but that would have made way too much sense.

Sunday morning we woke up, bright and sunny, to board a bus and go around Ankara with our Friday night friends. This was awesome because we wouldn’t have known the places to go otherwise. We began the day at Anikabir, which is Ataturk’s Tomb. If you know one thing about the Turks, they love their founder. I was naturally the most embarrassing person of the day and kept getting in everyone’s way and messing up pictures (like the one I have posted- I didn’t know everyone else was standing inside the stone!!) we then got traditional kebab in Ulus, and climbed Ankara castle. Naturally, there were asian people on one of the towers, and as we were meeting the minister of sport on top of the tower that dropped down a hundred feet, the asian group busted out into the acoustic guitar dance party of the century. I ran over to that tower and joined in on the festivities, but alas we had to go and see the Anatolian civilizations museum, which was really cool! We were going to climb the Ankara Tower, but it was too cloudy to see anything, so instead we all went to kizilay for a beer…or two…and bonded over the music of pink floyd and international politics.

Woo………I hope all weekends are like this!

My first class is in a couple of hours, wish me luck!

peace,
G

Welcome to Ankara, where every day is trash day!!!!

not my photo...by the by, ill upload some soon tho.

So we have completed a week in Ankara and much has happened already!

there have been numerous elevator incidents, confused stares, stray dogs barking, and ignorant american activities, but it has all been very exciting!

we made our way to Kizilay, the downtown area, a few times now. However, because we are silly americans, we just decided to get on a random bus and hope it takes us to somewhere interesting. Apparently you need tickets to ride the bus, but we have taken to the approach of displaying a handful of change and motioning to all of us, in which they usually reply by rolling their eyes and just telling us to get on.

Kizilay is a really cool area, there are a ton of shops, cafes, and who knows what else. We managed to wander our way into a mosque which was also really cool, because I had never been near one before (not for any personal reason, i just have never had the chance).

Periodically throughout every day you can hear the call to prayer broadcasted throughout the city, its then when it always hits me that i'm living in such a different nation, with unique traditions, morals, and a wholly different culture.

we started work this past week. All the americans have recieved much attention. They call us "natives" as in native speakers. Well, by all of us, i mean mostly everyone else. Alot of the students and teachers have not really known what to do with me or approached me because they usually think i am also turkish. Even in the city, they will speak to me in turkish as if i am showing the americans around. I have learned a few turkish phrases, and they say my accent is good, so i'm going to learn just enough to say "these are my american friends, but they are practicing turkish so i can not help them translate." boom, im in. god i love being ethnically ambiguous.

the food here is delicious, and we still have alot to explore and understand (including dubbed french....films..lol) but its been a blast so far!!!!!!

gule gule

Annie G

The Night Julia became an illegal immigrant...

In short, we are alive.

But here is the long version.

After several cry fests, fireworks, and hugs goodbye in Foxboro, I met up with Mackenzie at the airport to begin our sojourn to Turkey. The bags were checked, the milanos packed in my carry-on, and I was already tired. We were off to a good start. The flight to Munich was relatively uneventful, albeit delayed. The flight to Ankara lasted about 2 hours and consisted of about 10 people on the flight. Of course, out of those 10 people, I sat behind the man who was ripping the most foul farts known to humanity. Finally I got off the plane in turkey, breathed, and made the trek to the apartment. This consisted of one person total that understood English, a bus ride, a taxi ride, an embarrassing walk around the entire university, and then a walk from the university to our apartment.

that’s when the fun began.

We entered the apartment that we were assigned to, only to be hit with a smell that can be likened to the scent of a dumpster full of Chinese food on a warm summers day. We will later find out the source of this stench is attributed to all of the rotting food left in the fridge. The smell was exacerbated by the fact that there was no working electricity throughout the entire apartment. We managed to meet up with Warren, and found out that the boys were accidentally given our apartment and vice versa. Because of this, we decided to move our bags from the smelly 4th floor to the 11th floor.

This is the part of the story where Mackenzie got stuck in an elevator, and, in turn, we met all of our neighbors.

We finally get out of the elevator in time to return to the university to meet up with Julia. By the time we get to TOBB, Julia is not there, and we hear that she has lost all her baggage. We exchanged worried expressions, until we finally saw Julia’s smiling face through the door. And by smiling, I mean not smiling. Unfortunately, reeling in the madness that was lost baggage claim, Julia forgot her passport and important documents in the taxi cab that brought her to the university. It was at this point we recognized that Turkey was severely rejecting our presence.

We finally went back to the apartment, and worked on an appropriate Salvador Dali puzzle until our hunger overwhelmed us and we wandered out onto the street in hopes of finding nutrition. Of course, this adventure was in vain, and we ended the night watching the trashmen take away garbage bags as we spun around on the adjacent playground, cursing our existence.

Off to a rockin start.

DESTINATION: Turkey

So for those of you who don’t know, I have decided to embark upon another adventure and blog about the chaos that will inevitably ensue. As many of you know, my last adventure was in the country of Armenia. So what better country to travel to next than Armenia’s arch nemesis….Turkey! Yes I have accepted a position at a University in Ankara, the capital of Turkey. I will be here until July 1st, then I will be internationally homeless until July 5th when I do a dialogue of civilizations in France to complete my college course credit. Basically, I’ll be out of the US of A until mid-august, so try not to be too bored without me!!

Is it still OK to read SEVENTEEN Magazine...at 21?

So now that I'm 21, I'm a real person. I mean, I guess your a real person at 18, when you become a legal adult, but in my world your not a real person until you can go to a bar and get shitfaced. That's responsibility.

But I am sad. Being 21 may seem like the best thing in the world, but nay, I was unprepared and now there is nothing I can do about it. Time has flown by so fast, and I can no longer get away with the old crap I used to.

Which brings me to Seventeen Magazine. This was a slumber party staple since 4th grade, reading about how to make boys like us and what nail polish color is in season. This magazine was a young girls bible on development and sex, even though looking back on it now, it is completely absurd and at times wholly untrue. Regardless, this was our bible.

And I figured it was obviously targeted for teens (seeing as the title itself specifies an age range). So with a title like 17 , it is understood that anyone 17 and under could partake in the fantasy of it's glossy pages.

When I turned 18, I figured I could still hack it, what's one year?
At 19, I reasoned that still being a teen, I was still able to pass the seventeen magazine height limit.
At 20...well I was too broke to spend money on shitty magazines.

And now I'm 21, and as I pass by the magazine rack at the convenience store, I wonder if I could get away with it? I mean, in truth, its only 4 years behind me...and I always have been a little immature.

And in truth, there is nothing in that magazine that would even really interest me anymore, but it's the principal of the matter. Why must certain things have age ranges? Why can't it be socially acceptable to play midnight games of manhunt and watch are you afraid of the dark at sober slumber parties (which sounds wicked awesome right now)? Why do playgrounds have age limits (ok, I know the answer to that one, but don't let pedophilia ruin my point)? Why can't I wear lion king onesies to school, or spend all day in my pjs (granted I do both anyways)? What I'm really trying to get at here....is why do we have to grow up? And when did that shit go down?

I am going to sit here in my snuggie and ponder a little longer, but please let me know what you think.

Peace,
G.

My how the time flies...

Wow, so since I last wrote i have aptly adapted back into the US of A. Although, i have the itch to go abroad again, but that's all i'll say about that for now...

oh, and I'm running for Mayor of Huntington Ave at Northeastern University! Vote for me!!!