Happy Birthday to Me!

Today's my birthday, guys! Happy birthday to me!

I always strive to do something interesting on my birthday since arranging parties always seemed a little too self-congratulatory for me.

One year I went with one of the professors from my school and caught turtles in the Itchetuknee River; another I went SCUBA diving with some sharks in an aquarium in Busan. This year I'm not doing anything as interesting, unless you count being in Istanbul interesting, which, I guess, it is. I was considering having another massage or going to the baths again, but, in all honesty, I would rather not spend the money.

Maybe I'll go to the Bazaar and buy something crazy for myself. Last time I was there I bought what I thought was a Ukulele, which turned out to just be a tiny guitar (Ukuleles have four strings, guitars have six). Which I suppose is for the best because I know kind of how to play the guitar, but not the Ukulele.

I could go get a haircut – wild and crazy person that I am. Or just spend the day around town sketching architecture. I guess I am just glad to have some relaxing time to myself after the craziness of the past couple of months.

All in all, I consider relaxing an adequate thing to do on my birthday, though I would rather be surrounded by family and friends. o_O

UPDATE:

What I ended up doing was just relaxing. I've come to the point in my vacation where I would rather be home. Not because the Kingdom is so hopping or anything. But because I miss being able to sleep in a room alone or sit on my bed all day without getting judgey looks from my roommates.

I went to the baths again with my new friend Janet. I bought a bunch of crazy jewelry from some stores, and had the best kebab in all of Turkey from the stand down the street.

I have one more day left in Turkey and I intend to spend it straight up chilling.

The Joys of Following Random People

Here is a great example of why I love staying in hostels:

I met this lovely woman here (Janet) who is an artist fresh from an artists residency in Capadoccia (images.google it – it's spectacular). She said that she knew of a drum recital going on in Taskim – which is where all the Turkish people go to party/shop.

Though I'm not really that into drums, I like music and I haven't been going out that much since I've been here, so I decided to go.

To find this place, we had to go into this unremarkable building and up three flights of half-lit stairs. I was just starting to think this is how human trafficking happens when we start to hear drums.

Turns out the 'school' is just a studio space in an apartment building where this woman holds week long intensive courses on the darbuka, the traditional Turkish drum. The recital was supposed to be a celebration of the end of the course and a chance for all the students to play together.

I felt very honored to be there, because me and Janet were the only ones who were not in the course in attendance.

It seemed like a chill session more than a concert and the students had clearly not counted one anyone showing up to be entertained. The teacher had to play about an hour before the students would touch a drum but eventually we were being serenaded (can you serenade someone with a drum?) with the most intricate drum beats.

The teacher than took out what she described as a 'spike fiddle' and started playing. Now, this thing looks like a black widow spider, but sounds like an orchestra. The music sounded like it was coming from the depths of someone's soul. It had a large amount of sympathetic strings, like a citar, but unlike a citar, you play this with a bow, so it resonates deeply. I can't describe it any better than that. I just hope the sounds comes through on the video better.

I could have sat there all night and listened to her play that thing.

One of the girls in the class was really into Balkan folk music and started singing along. It was unreal this mix of cultures that worked together so well.

I ended up having a lot of fun, met some really nice people, did some yoga, and learned a lot about Turkish and Balkan folk music.

What more can you ask out of a school music recital?

Some Tips for Hostel Living

I haven't really spent all that much time in hostels, though it is my preferred method of accommodation when I actually have to pay to sleep somewhere. I am lucky enough to have lots of friends in lots of countries so I often get to stay places for free. But those few times I have had to stay in a hostel, it has been a great experience.

1. Always get to know your roommates, as much as you can.

Some people go to hostels and don't want to talk to anyone. This however, is not the norm. The quicker you get to know your roommates, the quicker you can trust them to watch your stuff.

2. Always take the bottom bunk if you can.

Though I prefer the top bunk in most situations, grabbing the bottom bunk in a hostel allows you not only to lay claim to any wall sockets nearby, but also all the space around your bunk to keep your stuff. If you are worried about security while you sleep, having a top bunk means you have to share the bed with all your luggage, whereas having a bottom bunk means it can be under your bed. Also, you don't have to climb over anyone when you go to bed or wake up. Always a plus.

3. Keep your ear to the ground.

Always listen to the gossip and the scuttlebutt (best word ever) among your fellow travelers. People who stay in hostels generally know their way around and probably know of some crazy/interesting/off the beaten track thing that you've never heard of.

4. Make friends with the people who work at the hostel.

The people who work there are great resources and generally will help you out if you ask. They, too, listen to gossip and will know the best way to do everything. Watch out, though, because they may just direct you to their own personal travel agency. This may be a good deal and it may not.

5. Never leave your clothes on the floor of the bathroom when you shower.

No matter how much it looks like they will stay dry, they won't. Just don't do it.

6. Label all the food in the fridge that is yours.

I typically go with the classics. Labels that say things like “Science Experiment” or “ Poisonous” or “For My Enemies”. I suppose you could just write your name, if you want to be lame.

7. Always bring an eye mask and a flashlight.

You never want your illumination requirements in the hands of other people. You want to sleep and your roommate wants to read? BAM. Eye mask. When you come in the room late at night after everyone's asleep and can't find your toothbrush? BAM. Flashlight.

8. Make someone take responsibility.

There is always a risk to traveling in general. But I truly believe that people are generally good and will look after you if you ask. But only if you ask. By that I mean, if you are going to leave your luggage unattended in the common room, ask someone specific to look after it for you. If you make someone personally responsible for your things, even if it's a complete stranger, it will be looked after. If you say to the general room, 'don't let anyone touch my things' there's no guarantee.

9. Always be aware.

Like I said; inherent risk and all that. Obvi.

10. Take advantage of any free meals.

Some hostels will give you breakfast and if that's the case, then eat as much as you can in the morning. If you have a huge breakfast, chances are you won't be hungry for lunch i.e.: you won't need to pay for lunch. That's two meals free.

In general, hostels are the bomb diggity, so I would recommend them to anyone looking to travel on the cheap. Sure, hotel rooms are more private, but who needs privacy when you can have sleep-over style chats well into the morning?

Social Experiment

 I am conducting a social experiment on the people of Istanbul.

This city is such a swirling mix of peoples and cultures, it's often difficult to pinpoint where someone is from. I have been addressed in the street by touts in the following languages: English (obvi), Turkish, French, Spanish, Italian (possibly because I have a sweater that says 'Italia' across the back), Greek, Arabic, Hindi (probably because of the nose ring), and Hebrew. There are probably more languages that I didn't recognize.

These next two weeks, while I'm on vacation, I'm going to fine tune what provokes these kinds of responses. Today, I'm going to try for Arabic. I'm thinking, lots of eye make-up, hijab and glittery jewlery.

What? That's weird you say? Well, how do you spend your vacations?

The Hajj

 It's that time of year again! The school breaks are upon us, the changing season is in the air, and old men are sitting around the airports in towels.

What?

I was talking about the Hajj season. What were you talking about? Witchcraft no doubt.

Yes, the Hajj is upon us. For those of you who are uninformed, the Hajj, or the pilgrimage to Mecca, is one of the five pillars of the Islamic faith. These are the five things that one must do to be a good Muslim. They are as follows:

1. The Islamic Creed, which is to proclaim that there is no other God than Allah.

   
   

2. Almsgiving, or giving money to the poor. In many islamic countries, this is part of the taxes, so it automatically comes out of paychecks.

3. Daily prayers, five times a day. This is strictly enforced here.

4. Fasting during Ramadan.Also strictly enforced in the Kingdom.

5. And finally, the Hajj.

There are actually many acts you have to preform during the Hajj, of which I do not know the extent. But on the 9^th day of the Hajj month, which started Wednesday, October 17^th this year, everyone – EVERYONE – who is performing the Hajj must be in the small town of Arafat (near Mecca) in order to do something. Something about throwing stones.

Arafat is supposedly where Adam received forgiveness from Allah, and where the Prophet Mohammad made his last sermon. It is known as a place of forgiveness.

But imagine it. Last year, there was 20 million people doing the Hajj. 20 million people in the small town of Arafat. Then, the next night, they all must sleep in another village, which is made solely of tents. They have all the modern amenities, it is said, just in tents.

There are other acts that must be performed, like the Umrah, which is what you see on television where they are walking around the Kaaba in the Grand Mosque in Mecca. The two times I have flown to City 2, there were announcements for all those going to perform the Umrah (which can be done any time of year). The announcements were concerning a distance from Mecca where you are supposed to gather your intentions to fulfill your holy duties. Since, in days of yore, one would be traveling on foot or on a camel, there was plenty of time to do this. Now, it's kind of a quick thought process you engage in before you land in City 2.

I was actually quite surprised to find that non-Muslims were not allowed, not only in the Grand Mosque, but in the entire city region of Mecca and Medina. In the past I have found the Islamic faith - and more or less every other faith excepting Mormonism - very willing to share their cultures with other faiths and peoples. Not so here. Infidels are strictly prohibited in the Holy Land. There is an invisible line after which non-Muslims are not permitted.

Obviously, I'm no expert on this, and I plan to learn more. But I'm very glad I'm getting the heck out of Dodge for the time being. If 20 million people in towels ( to approach Mecca on the Hajj or the Umrah, you must wear un-sewn cloth instead of clothes) are going to descend on this country, I'm glad I won't be here.  

Air Travel

 I hear people complaining about air travel recently – and probably with good reason – but I often find it hard to relate. Traveling in the United States and traveling outside of it are two entirely different animals. Standards for safety I have encountered abroad range from that time I was felt up so thoroughly by a security guard at Ferenc Liszt airport in Budapest I felt like she owed me dinner, to that time in Egypt, where, despite the prevalence of x-rays and metal detectors, they legitimately don't give a crap.

I can't count how many TSA violations I have gotten away with in my short life. Pretty much anywhere besides America will let you bring a bottle of water on the plane (this has happened to me in Egypt, the Kingdom, even Hungary) and a couple times I have forgotten something like a razor in my backpack and not gotten it confiscated.

Compare this to the one time my mother and I were traveling to Peru and they looked through her entire carry on for about twenty minutes until they found a nail file. Which they confiscated. Or the time, in Japan, everything was removed from my bag and x-rayed separately  I spent a long time standing awkwardly while they went through my things, feeling like I should be explaining why I'm bringing a bag of cheetos into the country (they were for a friend!)

In the Kingdom, there is separate security for women and for men. The men go through the metal detector like normal, and the women are diverted into this little hut off to the side. Inside, you have to pull aside not one, but two sets of heavy, light-blocking curtains to reach the inner sanctum.There, bored female guards will half-heartedly wand you over in case you are keeping a switchblade in your knickers. Incidentally, if I was keeping a switchblade in my knickers, they probably wouldn't have found it.

I have walked in several times to find the guards either cheerfully chatting with each other, sitting back and relaxing, having lunch, or, most recently, listening to their ipods (HARAM!)

No one can come and check on them because their bosses are all male. These ladies have figured out a pretty sweet racket.

These airports also have x-ray machines as you come in the door (not that they ever stop anybody from bringing in anything) and “family sections” which is where it's okay for women to be. There are also “single” sections which are for single men. To be fair, men are only allowed in the 'family' section if they are actually with their families.

As a lone female traveler, or really as a female in the Kingdom in general, I have to be careful where I sit, even in the 'family' section. Sitting by myself is always an option, though not as good as sitting relatively near other women. It should go without saying that sitting next to a man is not even an option.

On the plane, before take off, they recite a prayer that the Prophet Muhammad used to say before he traveled. There is, of course, no alcohol on any Kingdom Airline flights.

This in-depth description is in honor of my vacation I am taking for the rest of the month of October. I worked a grueling five days this month and I deserve a vacation!

I'm starting to feel like I take vacations professionally. Paid vacations.

All sarcasm aside, the last week has been hell on earth. Sometime since I left everyone has decided to start hating each other. When I arrived back, I was immediately treated to a dozen side conversations about one person or another. I felt bad even listening to people tear into each other but I hadn't been there so I had no idea if it was justified or not.

Tempers flared the other day on the bus and there was snarling all the way home. It was so vicious that my mp3 player couldn't drown it out and I had to distract myself by trying to learn the Arabic numbers using licence plates.

I know them perfectly now, in case you were wondering.

I got my own dose of annoyance when the job of editing and producing the bi-weekly newsletter fell entirely to me. Typically, we have a team to work on it, but they were all too busy this week.

I didn't mind at first and I was kind of looking forward to it. It may have even been out on time if anyone had sent me anything they were supposed to. On Wednesday COB (the newsletter should have been out already) I was still missing the main article that my supervisor said she would send me at 9 am. Plus, I designed all the banners and titles myself in illustrator and my supervisor takes one look at them and crinkles her nose, asks me if we can do something about the ugly colors.

After a week of this crap I was done and so glad someone had talked me into leaving for the vacation instead of staying in town and... I don't know, screaming at the ceiling?  

The Funeral

 I haven't updated lately because I have busy with the business of my Grandmother's funeral.

Its a mixed blessing, I guess, because on the one hand, I miss her very much and I can't believe she won't be around to see me achieve everything she wanted for me in life. But on the other, even at her funeral it was obvious to see the legacy she has left behind. Our family is tight-knit and loving and the church – where she spent most of her time and energy, raising money, organizing committees, and just being a general bad ass – was packed with people whose lives she had touched.

There were two(2) priests officiating because one was the regular priest and one had grown up with my grandmother and wanted to do his best for her in anyway he could. His eulogy was so sweet and touching I nearly broke down. I know my Yiayia would have been so proud of him and of everyone there. If she attended the funeral, I know that she would have been thrilled at how it went.

After the funeral, and the burial, and the reception afterwards, we – all the cousins – went to her place to look through her things. My Yiayia was forever trying to get people to take her stuff. She was a practical woman and knew that, being 88, she wasn't going to need the stuff for so much longer. Her greatest wish was to see the things she loved in life go to someone who would care for them.

We felt... uncivilized, I guess, going through her things but, to be honest, nothing would have made her happier to know that they were going to a good home. We anicipated problems but, in the end, we are all family and we didn't have a single argument.

I took some books that she left me and some more books. And a ton more books. She had a billion books about Cyprus that no one really wanted and I, thinking about a possible future grad school thesis, didn't want them to be thrown out. They were all these independent publications that I wasn't going to find in a University library.

She had about 30 copies each of the Iliad, and the Odyssey, with about 10 copies each of the Orestia and the Oedipus Cycle. I, unfortunately, have all of these books (except the Iliad, which I took a copy of) so I couldn't take any. But my brothers and my cousins took some so there were less left in the end.

Going through her things reminded me how very alike we are and how much she loved us all. She had so many pictures everywhere of all of us and she had lovingly saved more or less anything we ever wrote her. She was so proud of the people we have become and I hope I can live my life in such a way that I continue to make her proud.