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Monthly Archives: September 2011

Almost perfect

I’ve been Stateside for a few weeks, including an initial first week in MN, which was a good idea in terms of getting over jetlag and reacclimating to la vida Americana. Overall, the US is much the same as I remember. However, I keep on running into things that throw me for a loop, and they’re not always the most logical or relevant things. For example:

When did Pomegranate-Blueberry become the new “it” flavor/scent? Seriously, when I left I think we were on cranberry, or maybe cranberry-acai. Pomegranate-blueberry was not an option for salad dressing, yogurt, candles, granola or body wash. Not that I’m complaining toooooo much, because I do love me some pomegranates, and I’ve been rediscovering the joys of blueberries since my return.

Tipping. How does it work? Tipping is something I’m always a little paranoid about when coming Stateside, because I know that it’s done for many, many services, and I never remember which services or how much is appropriate. I think, judging from reactions, that I’ve been flagrantly overtipping. Not just at restaurants, either: at the hairstylists, for the baggage guy at the airport, and for my taxi to my flat. I guess overtipping is a lot better than flagrantly undertipping though.

Store discount cards actually make a difference in the final price of one’s purchase, significantly, and are thus used more often than not. Well that’s new. The few stores in Turkey that had cards didn’t really make them worth one’s while, but I knocked 1/6 of the purchase price off my Safeway run when I picked up a Rewards Card. One sixth!

Oh boyyyyy are credit/debit cards susceptible to theft or misuse in the US. One thing I loved about my debit card in Turkey was its Chip & Pin. It could not be used without the pin number. Of course this leaves the card vulnerable to skimming still, but if the card is lost or stolen, it’s much harder for someone to fraudulently use the card. Here, if someone grabbed my card, I’d have to call Card Services immediately and embark on a long and tiring journey of cutting off that card and getting another one while ensuring that I wasn’t charged for any fraudulent purchases. I wish the States used Chip & Pin.

I am no longer relatively a giant. Most of my female friends in Turkey were, as they say, hella short. Five feet? That’s kind of average. 5’4″ is the average American woman’s height, and coincidentally it’s my height as well. I am appreciating not being the outlier here. Minnesota was even better — with all the Scandinavian ancestry, I’m short.

Accents! They’re everywhere! American English-speakers abroad tend to have a basic, broad American accent — think newscaster English — with a little twinge of wherever they’re from — a muted Southern drawl, my lengthened Minnesotan “o”s, the flat vowels of the Bronx. It’s easy to forget that in the US itself, there are fantastic varieties of American English. I have to listen twice sometimes. My ears will get used to it, slowly but surely, but until they do I find it kind of enchanting.

Less enchanting: My Turkish is messing up my English pronunciation. I’m mangling words left, right and center. Uff da.

The Taksim Starbucks bathroom code is 1237*

…and other things I learned in Turkey.

As you may have heard elsewhere, I’ve moved from Istanbul to DC — a weeklong move via Minnesota that now, at least for me myself, is thankfully over. My stuff is a different matter; hopefully the boxes will start showing up soon or I’ll basically be wearing business suits for everything. It’d be impossible to sum up nearly four years in Turkey in one pithy blog post, but I thought I’d devote some time to sharing a few of the things I’ve learned through painful experience or lucky happenstance while living in Ankara and the ‘Bul.

First, of course, is the titular Starbucks code. Starbucks branches in major Istanbul locations started password-protecting their bathrooms sometime in the past year, and printing the code on their receipts. If you’d rather not quickly down a cappuccino before running off to the Ladies’, though, you can use 1237* at the Taksim branch, and the year of Fenerbahce’s founding, which I believe is 1908 (it may be 1907), at the Kadikoy waterfront branch.

If you’re flying in to Ataturk airport and have a residence permit, you can use either the Turkish citizens or the Other citizens passport line. If you happen to land at the same time as a package tour charter flight, this can be phenomenally helpful. I’d take my advice with a grain of salt though, because while I’ve done this with no problem whatsoever, a friend recently reported getting to the front of the Turkish line only to be told she had to go to the back of the Other line and start her wait allllll the way over again. No good.

Avocados can be found fresh, ready-to-eat, and relatively cheap at the Kazanci Manav year-round except for June and July. If you’re me, the manav will run out into the street in August to let you know the avocados have returned.

Vanilla extract can now be found in some larger grocery stores in Istanbul, but if that’s too easy for you, you can buy vanilla pods on Birthday Street, next to the Spice Bazaar, and make your own with a bottle of vodka. Best start that project a few weeks before you’re planning on making a cake though.

Eminonu’s costume shop district is just west and to the left of its toy shop district, which in turn is just west of Birthday Street. If you’re looking for pirate-type swords, only one toy shop has decent options, but Star Wars-like swords abound. Buy one for all your friends!

Most bureaucratic tasks take three tries to get done. This applies to getting Internet, getting a phone line to be able to then get said Internet, renewing a residence permit (although to be fair, last time it only took me two trips! Wooooooo!), or getting small repairs around one’s flat completed. Burasi Turkiye, yaaaaa?

If you get bitten by a potentially rabid animal in Istanbul, you’ll need to get a rabies shot, which is administered at one hospital in the city, in Çapa. This is unpleasant. Try not to get bitten by a potentially rabid animal.

For all that it has 70 million people, Turkey’s totally a village. Expect to run into people you know in the oddest places, like on a ruined fortress in Van. Or in Izmir. Or basically every time you walk down Istiklal. Keeping with the village theme, everyone in your neighborhood knows your business. When I moved out of Cihangir, a man I swear I have never seen before in my life called out my name, asked if I needed help with my suitcases, and asked after a friend of mine who had moved from the neighborhood six months earlier. I visited another neighborhood I’d lived in a year after moving out, and the restaurateur across the street came out to ask what I was up to and when I’d move back.

Americalife has been on my mind a bit more than Turkeylife the past few days, so I’ll close now so I can start my next post, Things About America That Keep Weirding Me Out. I’ll work on that title.