Spring Thoughts

The final days of the school year are upon us and while I've been extremely busy setting one foot after the other on a new (and insha'allah better!) career path, I am also back here once more to wax poetic.  I haven't been in the best of spirits artistically speaking, and so I am now dedicating one hour of every day to "uni-tasking".  Getting that one thing done that I've been meaning to get to.  As is so often the case, I have allowed myself to be distracted by gadgetry and routine to a point where I had almost lost touch with that which has brought me this far.
To reiterate an exercise that has kept my travel motor running since I first left home for Germany in 2005, a few special thanks are in order to those that have supported me thus far in my journey to find what it is I want to do and the best way to get it done.  To Nico Bellissimo for telling me never to forget where I came from.  To my family for always bearing with me through my mishaps in planning trips back home. To Jennifer Creamer at the University of Pittsburgh for setting me up with a contact in Istanbul that I could have previously only dreamed about. But mostly to my one and only Azra for being there with me through the trials of the past year and a half while somehow making it seem like just a few short months.
My MO has always been to stay curious and get out into places in the world where I am pushed beyond my comfort zone.  Teaching in Istanbul has certainly done that much for me, but I somehow failed to visit places in canim Turkiyem that are truly off the beaten path.  I await much from the year to come and the first half of 2014, which should be a thriller of a year.  Trips to the beekeeping hills of Artvin, the canals of Eskisehir, the pools of Pamukkale, and many more abound! Other projects I foresee being able to complete include a fresh uptake of the trumpet, improving even further my German, French and Turkish language skills, and one update per week of this blog before I try to take it to the next level.

Do one thing everyday that scares you, says Eleanor Roosevelt.  Well, spinning eight plates at once scares me and it has felt a bit like I've been doing that for the past two years, but I am going to pare those down to just a few and spin them like a master.  Wish me luck and I'll catch you on the flipside!

Interesting Places

Tell me where this is and I'll go there for immediate spa retreat and trekking!

Discovery of Faith

DISCLAIMER: Most poems that I post are meant to be performance pieces; that is, if you read them aloud they're probably going to be even deadlier cool. Thanks for reading everyone, and feel free to share!

What a scene to walk in on;
she slides the sheets up over her quivering lips
to cover that tell-tale gap between her teeth.
She's been lying with what NASA calls
Entry.Descent.Landing. to rove the
red planet that is her stain on the satin
rocks of the moon. She'll thank her
lucky stars that it was me, transplant expat,
not a hooded ninja of religion, to lay eyes.

Sequestered Expat Life in Suburbia

Thought I might get to some stargazing in the absence of being able to sleep last weekend.  Conveniently, last weekend was the peak timing to witness the Perseids meteor shower as Earth passed through a band of particularly dense comets in the ALL of space.   Only after about 3 AM did I realize that I live in Istanbul.  Fat chance, even on the dustiest outskirts of town!  I shouldn't fool you, I never grew up with firm roots in the land.  But I have often felt an intrinsic tie between my own self and the world around me.  I suppose because so much of my formative years was spent in a non-urban setting, I now feel a distinct longing for country landscapes.  Since my trip to Cappadocia in February, I've been sequestered to the suburban life

The Good, the Bad, and the Ungroomed

Wandering around my little block of juggernaut apartment buildings, I began noticing that nearly all the men in the area of  Başakşehir have grown themselves nice little mustaches.  In Turkey, it's not out of the ordinary to see a man walking around with the weight of the world on his upper lip.

Alone with the Murder

Like a sailor hauling men overboard

on decks, he lowers the latch

on the door of his 8 x 24

cargo container for the final

shut-in. Deserting

her to that rich valley between his prison cell

walls. Alone

with the murder, the dog surveys

the herculean climb to the bottom of his

potential.  Heave,

the sickness ailing him is more than

merely viral, it’s virtual; worse than the rhythmic pace of

time.

Forward the Fads! (this shouldn't hurt)

This could turn into some scary quick technology.  I don't see art spin-offs taking long to catch onto this either.  QR codes allow you to encrypt lots of information into a small 2D image.  The options are limitless and will become bafflingly complex in the near future!

Just click on it or scan it with your smartphone's QR reader app and it'll take you to my specially encrypted message for you!

Migration in Effect

It's so hard to believe a whole month has gone by since my last post.  Well, I guess I should get started updating you on the craziness this past month, and week, have entailed.  I'm finally on my way to getting some very interesting private lessons set up with a wide range of potential clients.  Firstly, a school has interviewed me for doing exam-oriented lessons on weekends.  This would obviously be a very new experience, but I'm not sure I wanna go off the diving board and give up the free time of my wonderfully relaxing Saturdays just yet. Lastly, I happened to meet a man at the bar last week who was a student in a college in suburban Philadelphia back in the 80's.  He now manages a translation company and was on the "look-out" when we met for someone to do in-house lessons for one of the companies he works mostly online with.  This could also prove to be quite intriguing, depending on what sort of package and timeline they are looking for.

As always, I can't leave you without some of the creative writing I've had flowing lately.

Musings

A plane just flew over Istanbul in the general direction of Africa, which got me to thinking...
These initial weeks teaching in Turkey have been hectic (I can't seem to get a few of the girls in my 4th grade classes to stop pinching my cheeks and making noises I used to hate hearing my aunts make), but they've also been eye-opening. Teachers impart a small bit of themselves on their students and I have the chance to impact roughly 200 individual lives with my own particular style.
While that is a little daunting and, indeed scary at times, I am feeling a small sense of freedom to

Istanbul Update

It's time to let you know how being a teacher has been for me 1 month through my assignment in Turkey. Adjustments to come aside, I've already settled into what seems to be a workable model of assessing my students needs and working through the material outlined in my school's not-so-creative curriculum. Teachers are sometimes defeated in private schools by the spoiled nature of the children whose parents only infrequently tell them "NO." Administrators however

Dancing walls

Video editing has evolved to a mind blowing point

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Remembrance

Today I want to remember that time where I was sitting outside the front of Jamaa Badr, the large mosque in my new neighborhood of Agdal here in Rabat.

It was a pleasantly chilly evening and I was worn out after quite a long day of medina wandering and the long walk to school. I found myself a good location to have a seat outside the mosque while waiting for a friend I was to have dinner with. As I sat there, head between my shoulders, elbows resting on my knees, enjoying the November breeze, a passing woman did a double take and took a few steps back to me with her pocketbook in hand. The next thing I knew she was trying to push her zakat into my hand! I wish I had been prepared with the proper Arabic phrase which would graciously repel her humble attempt at alms. The best I could do was to pull my hands to my chest and tell her "Ah non, merci". Then I felt sufficiently pathetic enough to stand up and get over the aches in my legs before heading off to tell this story one time only.

Oh the small moments in life!

Motivational Speaker

Having heard my fair share of success stories, motivational speeches, and "take a look at yourself" talks through my time, I didn't think the pairing of a few together could be such a ground-shaking experience. A "coaching" session with a professor, a slightly inebriated "discussion" with a friend, and reading an article by a favorite musician/writer/producer of mine all about plans and paths to success and becoming one's self carried me to an internal precipice upon which I found myself saying these words to myself: "It's clear that I'm going somewhere, but how I'll get there and just where isn't so important right now" I've come across the cherished motivation that had, until recently, been missing in an otherwise enviable life-situation.
Each and every one of my interests surely has roots in a basic need that I have. I'll examine them here with the purpose of categorizing a daily agenda of sorts.
Get lost once each day: My affection for foreign-ness, whether in the form of a language or the physical terrain I inhabit, designates for me a willingness to go outside of my comfort zone. This becomes the foremost task of every day. Take a walk or have a talk in unfamiliar territory.

Learn something new each day: Reading and writing are the oldest of academic interests. These have always been included in my facebook and myspace "Interests" sections so it's safe to say I enjoy expanding my cognitive capacity so often as possible.

Get found once each day: The undying, yet intriguingly sharp, curiosity I hold for maps and geography in the more general sense has outlasted the test of time. It signifies a longing for belonging somewhere. May be accomplished by yoga, meditation, or exercise.

Make a statement: Love for music, art, cinema, and poetry wakens my sense of self-expression and opinions ought to be stated, not withheld. Whether through creation of something that wasn't previously in existence or modifying something that does certainly exist, I'll make a statement wherever I can.

Be selfish: It's true, I'm human. Never before having had to take care of my actual basic needs before, living here in Morocco on my own has taught me how doing so can be fun. Under that constant state of care, it is easy to put others' moral opinion first and then to mold your own standing. But I'm learning that I can continue to have fun and be respectful of others while searching for an option in my daily choices that suits my needs rather than compromises my welfare.

It is to be noted that I definitely had motivation during my first five months in Morocco, but the motivation was moving me to be more and more dislocated and floated in a solution of uncertain circumstances. My internship in Turkey is to be credited with sparking me to take myself more seriously. Again, thank you for reading and stop by again.

Tatlı rüyalar

In other words: sweet dreams. Six weeks later and I'm back in Istanbul. It feels like so much longer, in truth. Istiklal Caddesi is one of the livliest places you can visit on a Saturday night and finding yourself alone there is alright, just as long as you really know how to people watch. Musicians will play, and wanderers will gather to listen! Dogs will be walked and couples will stroll as late an hour as 2 o'clock in the morning! Party-goers will shout and fashionistas will strut!
I won't say goodbye, because I don't feel like I'm leaving this place. In fact, it has instilled itself in me. Unfortunately, these feelings don't ward off the pit that opens in my stomach when I think on those I've met and that which I've seen here. There seems to me to be no shortage of good times to be had. Shutting off my mind is the problem and I can't be sure how well I'll sleep tonight seeing as my two roommates have managed to occupy all four beds.

Come back again and read my thoughts in a few weeks

Feeling Alive

Seeing your breath for the first time will make you feel alive. Last night in Istanbul, we ran through a rain storm to drink Efes and mojitos and returned in worse rain to go back to the hostel, that's where I first saw my breath in the air for the first time since last winter. World House has cool staff and nice clients, but apparently girls might flip over the cleanliness of the bathrooms or the smell of the beds. I recommend it for its location and price(near the Galata Tower for just $18) When we make our way back to Istanbul next time, we'll see the monuments like Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque and such.

The ferry ride to Bursa passed without event, except that Dounia is deathly afraid of water, or at least moving on it! The cold in Bursa was a different kind. One dry kind that slowly slips into your bones and then takes a good hour to shake off. We waited here in that cold for about an hour enduring the animalistic stares of a gaggle of Turkish boys at the bus station. I'm writing you now from my room in Ersin's house, my host who picked us up. He's an ex-AIESECer who now works for Bosch. A fluent German and Italian speaker, we get along just fine the two of us! He's also a great host and contact to have. He'll loan me his cell to use while I'm here in Turkey! This is gonna be one of the most useful tools here since even on this very first night, I've met close to thirty people at a goodbye party for another intern!

If you wanna play a fun little game, try to name all the empires that started or made their way through Turkey...(hint: the Ottoman capital was BURSA!)

Komsomida Qimchi Brothers

I wanna share a story with you that I found pretty cool.
I'm here in Morocco, studying abroad and what not, and living in this big house the floor below me are two young Korean men, Andy and Jake for comfort's sake. We were in the process of throwing one of them a birthday party, when suddenly I was feeling very thankful. Thanksgiving was indeed approaching and it dawned on me that I could share some tremendous music with these fellows while thanking them simultaneously.
So I jetted upstairs to grab my laptop and jetted back downstairs to play your song Komsomida from The Bruce Lee Band S/T album. They were so inspired by the tune, they actually let their emotions show and burst into laughter and smiles. We then spoke some broken French and English to get the point across that there was more to share!
Andy and Jake have been good brothers to me during my time here. They've let me in on their movie-downloading ring and I've enjoyed several as-yet unrealeased motion pictures. I've even tasted the spicy Kimchi dish! Simply delicious!

Anywho, I hope you won't be working terribly hard through the holiday season and that the time is filled with joy for you and your family. I'm off!

Kabiiiir

Given the long history between me and my stomach, I'm not surprised that I made it through this day. The holiday called Aid al Adha, where the entire Muslim Nation slaughters sheep in sacrifice to God, was certainly a shock to my system.
I thought I had become accustomed to most things around here, but waking up this morning to the two sheep on my roof being prepared was eerie. There was a feeling in all the house of tense excitement. Visiting neighbors and good friends would remark on how it sort of felt like Christmas.
I found myself culturally interested in watching the King of Morocco cut the sheep and also the gutting of the sheep on our terrace. I did help in the clean-up process, sweeping and rinsing off the rooftop.
The iron taste in the meats was still there. We had the lungs, heart, liver, and stomach today. Fat was used to flavor everything but the stomach, which stood well enough on its own merit and texture! Right now, my eyes feel like they are drying and falling out of my head and my stomach is just turning over and over in efforts to pass the tough organs.
Mutton comes tomorrow after cous cous for lunch. I may try to be out for a large portion of the day! ;) It's a fantastic tradition, but all the same, I'm simply not accustomed to so much meat.
My good friend and neighbor Kaamilah was facing honest fear when we began eating the stomach. She had just come from a decent nap on the couch dreaming about her previous 19 years or so of virtual vegetarianism!
I leave you knowing that everything's gonna be alright. Mostapha, formerly Sam or Edna, the fish needs a change of water, but he's going strong too. Til next time.

The Riff

Riffi Berbers are supposed to be some of the toughest people in Morocco, but in my trip to the North of Morocco, I'm pretty sure I didn't run across any of them. Instead we saw people with a lot of peace on their faces. People who had less on their minds or just a more ordered way of keeping those things in stock. Rabati people are hardworking stress machines. Up there near Tangier, mountains and skies and sea all mix for a great melange of landscapes.

Ceuta was a shock of infrastructure and order, the lack of which I had become surprisingly quickly accustomed to. The border control was odd since there was roughly 200 meters of no-man's-land. Also, thanks to our procrastination, the authorities were quite skeptical of our reasons of staying. We never took the ferry up to the mainland, because of the pricing. But we did see great and beautiful things on the bus rides from Tangier-Ceuta and Ceuta-Tetouan. The clouds were trying to claim their spot on the maps and steal a piece of history.

Taxi drivers were always a source of entertainment this weekend, speaking Spanish, English, Arabic, and of course French. Tetouan's beach town, Martil, is one of the best known beaches in all of Morocco and even on that cloudy Sunday, was impressive. We crossed two camels on the beach and their tenant.

Turkey Day is tomorrow. I thought I'd be in Agadir on the beach, but it looks like I will, in fact, celebrate with friends and colleagues in Hay Riad, Rabat. Saturday is the Eid Al Adha, Festival of Sacrifice to honor Abraham's sacrifice of his son. I hadn't made the connection between the two holidays until just yesterday in a conference call with friends back home. The holiday will pass nicely, I hope!

Marrakech aftermath

On a passé le weekend a Marrakech. Fia j3e!
I've never seen such people in such a market! Jemaa El Fna was BA enough to give you dreams. The lighting in that square is phenomenal thanks to the smoke pluming up high into the night's heavens. From one of the many rooftop cafés, one would say the ascension is like an escalator in a mall of wonders! HAHA.
Yeah sure, beware guys following you through the medina. This is becoming as common sensical to me as stepping around a raging fire. You avoid that which makes you uncomfortable. Be sure to go out of your comfort zone though, when you see cats eating the stray heads of chickens or if there is a monkey on your shoulder!
Don't forget the inevitable charm of Marrakesh's rich history and it's oh-so-calm riads(bed & breakfasts). One hidden gem I got wind of was near the Palace Bahia. A half Moroccan-half Italian man named Younness owns this tranquil, well-kept, beautiful and blessed riad and can put all your worries at ease. We simply knocked on his door to see if we could find a guide, but it turns out we made a friend that I personally hope never to lose. He made us the hospitable Moroccan green tea and called a friend of his to give us a guide of the monuments. Younness has been the world over, seemingly; with plans to go to Madagascar in the making.
Simohammed, our new-found guide, had acquired a British accent from time spent in London. He also happened to have a motorbike accident the morning of our proposed meeting. What he did is indicative of the kind of person Younness is and the company he keeps. Simohammed called a friend of his and sent him on forward to our meeting and said only, "I have something important to take care of, I'm so sorry I can't come." He disregarded himself and gave us the help we needed.

I can only say that I am glad to have been in great company during this fantastical weekend and to have known some locals who genuinely care about their fellow man(as can be found so rarely around this Big Blue Marble((earth)))