merhaba.

Merhaba from my borderline-swanky dorm on Bilkent University’s campus in Ankara, Turkey, where sprawling steppe-(ish?) mountains and wild brawling cats are currently having their way with the world outside my window. I arrived Saturday for my year as a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant to BUSEL (the university’s School of English Language) and graduate student in the Media and Visual Studies program. What was initially promised as a small-town solo teaching position has morphed into an experiment as a “speaking skills instructor” at Turkey’s wealthiest elite private university in the capital alongside 40 other recent American college grads (virtually all of whom are from elite private universities themselves.) The idea is to nudge the begrudged Bilkent undergrads towards fluency so they can comprehend the university’s English-medium classes. This, apparently, is not an easy task, but our two-week-long orientation program is doing its best to prepare us for the worst. And give us a crash-course in Turkish, which so far is quite difficult for me to understand aurally. And make sure we’re not planning on bringing up the Kurds/Armenians/Cypriots any time soon. And keep us on a steady dose of Cipro.

Nestled atop rocky hills covered in a mix of dry, scraggly vegetation and dust 20 minutes outside the city, Bilkent is a strange world in itself. Although the university is supposedly non-profit, virtually everything affiliated with the campus – the furniture factories, textbook printers, restaurant suppliers, construction firms – is owned by Bilkent. Hundreds of classy, modern buildings are spread out across three “campus” areas connected by a seemingly random bus schedule, and although the city is facing a severe drought, disconcertingly artificial arrangements of pine trees and flowers are drenched in water from Bilkent’s own private reservoir.



from atop a bilkent hill, drought-stricken ankara in the hazy distance. . .



while water flows free on main campus.

Most facilities, such as the gyms (not to mention the library’s current periodical room, to my delight) are fancier than those at Pitt. The weather, however, is harsh and dry and the landscape somewhat desolate and bare; a walk from one campus to the other involves crossing a ravine scattered with brush and olive trees.



the ditch between my apartment (middle campus) and job (east campus). . .



and the road i take to cross it (!!)

My 3-connection flight was uncomfortable to say the least thanks to an unexpected bout of poison ivy on my feet (picked up the eve of my departure) combined with the brilliant idea to break in a brand-new pair of Doc Marten shoes. Since then, my mood has drastically wavered between extreme highs and lows which, like any foreigner fumbling about in a new culture must find, are largely determined by the successful-ness of small tasks. Get lost, take the wrong bus, and end up on the edge of a desert-y embankment for an undetermined period of time, bad; bus driver takes pity and energetically teaches me Turkish for an hour, good. Blow out the power in my room, feel constantly nauseous, get yelled at for accidentally standing in the express line at the grocery store, and watch as faucet water turns from orange to brown, bad; get mistaken for a Turk and actually answer a question in Turkish correctly, good! The water quality in general is poor due to the drought, the apartment I’m supposed to be living is currently a slab of cement, and I don’t feel as though I fit in with the other Americans; on the other hand, the program is cushy and well organized and I’m excited to start my grad classes and travel. I have a cell phone. My life is still very "American," although Turkish hospitality has begun to peek out via kindly security guards, store clerks, and receptionists; learning Turkish and getting a handle on how to get around Bilkent/Ankara will help wean me off my current dependency on strangers. (Never have I felt so embarrassed for my inexcusable ignorance of a language.) I'm also expecting major changes once the students arrive on campus and my classes (both those that I'm teaching and taking) begin.



luckily there's always fellow-fulbrighter laura to bring a little raki over to my apartment. . .



for our first home-cooked dinner of bean salad and yoghurt.

Friday afternoon my “colleagues” and I (all 40 or so of us) are going on a weekend trip to Cappadocia, and during a short holiday in the beginning of September I'm taking a long train ride to meet my high school friend Bryan in Izmir for a trip up the west coast, so excitement approaches. . .more soon.