If I Could Turn Back Time

The Powers That Be here in Turkiye took it upon themselves to ignore the way the rest of the world operate and have done away with turning back the clock announcing an end to daylight savings.  This means that we are forever on summer holidays which is nice I guess but for today, and perhaps for a few of us dopier peeps, it also means total chaos as we try and decipher what time it really is.

cher-gun

Right now in our house every single clock says its 6:16am … except that it is actually 7:16am.  The reason I know it is 7:16am is that my FIL has already started screaming for his breakfast and, despite the fact that every single clock in our house says its 6:16am and we all should be slumbering it is daylight outside (albeit a little overcast which will no doubt burn off into another stinking hot day).

For sure this bureaucratical bundle of bok will cause chaos over the next 24 hours (or 23 depending on which clock you are looking at).

Turkiye is now at Greenwich Mean Time plus 3 hours.  So for those of you in the UK you are now of course 3 hours behind, for those of you in Down Under you are 8 hours behind and for those of you in the US you are … fecked … and I’m not just talking about your presidential candidates.

And why did they do this you ask?  Officially it is to save on electricity (truely this is the official word).  Unofficially I wonder if this is a religious decision to bring Turkiye in line with Saudi Arabia and Mecca for prayer and Ramadan timing.

Just to prove that this is a real kerfuffle think of Cyprus.  Northern Cyprus is 1 hour ahead of Southern Cyprus.  What about Nicosia?  It’s a half / half city!  And what if you live in Northern Cyprus and work in Southern Cyprus.  Or go to school in Southern Cyprus?  Can anyone say cock-up???

Regardless whatever time you think it is check with someone who does not spend their life attached to a phone or a computer because I reckon they are the only folk who actually know what the feck is going on around here!

Update!  Daughter’s new Iphone 7 did NOT change time.  She has just dragged herself out of bed wondering what all the fuss is about.  “You people are all technologically stupid”!  Direct quote.

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Syria’s Children

His name was Aylan Kurdi. Do you remember him?  His name is Omran Daqneesh. Will you remember him tomorrow?  All of Syria’s children have names and we should never forget them.  But we will.  Of course we will.

OmranSure we were all rightfully shocked and saddened by what has happened to both of these little boys.  Social media was again abuzz as photos of Omran dazed and bloodied spread around the world.  “How could this happen again?” we all yell from the comfort of our homes.  News anchors were crying on the television from the safety of their newsroom.  People were tearing up on the radio at the thought of poor Omran and his family.  How could this happen again?  Again?  Seriously?  Don’t tell me you didn’t know.  This has been ongoing since 2011.  Omran and millions of others are being bombed every day.  I know real life is distracting and there is a lot of other juicy news stories to cover but please don’t be so shocked by what has happened to Omran.  He is just one of millions of people who have been displaced, injured or killed in this awful conflict.  Tomorrow there will be another little boy just like Omran but perhaps he won’t be as newsworthy.

Today Omran is safe but what exactly is safe in a war zone?  Thankfully the five year old was reunited with his mother, father and three siblings but eight other people were not so lucky and perished in the air strike that destroyed his home and his life.  Will his family stay in Aleppo or will they, like millions of others, attempt to leave Syria in the hope of a better life?  And what life would they have outside of Syria?

AleppoBorders are closing to them.  Options are limited.  There is so much anger and hatred.  Today there are tears for Omran but tomorrow there will again be calls to close borders and to “send them back where they came from”.  Tell me where the feck are they going to go back to?  Omran no longer has a home.  Aylan’s family made the decision to leave in the hope of a better life.  Aleppo is in ruin, hell most of Syria is under siege.  What hope do these people have?

The Syrian civil war began over 5 years ago and thanks to internal fighting, the constantly shifting alliances between the Assad government, rebels and Islamic extremists and the ever flourishing ‘war economy’ over 13.5 million Syrians have been displaced either internally or are refugees outside of Syria.  Turkey is the largest host country with 2.7 million Syrian refugees, Mersin has over 300,000 refugees.  What if Turkey decided to shut its borders or to turn these people away?  How many more deaths must there be?

Yes we should all be shocked and saddened at the photos of Aylan Kurdi and Omran Daqneesh.  We should be embarrassed at the world and at each other that this is humanitarian disaster is still happening in 2016.  Omran’s life will never be the same.  His family’s lives (who are now in hiding in fear of Government backlash) will never be the same.  And for those of you who think they are better off staying in Syria and that the borders should be closed?  Have a good look in the fecking mirror you asshole.  You should be ashamed of yourself!

Photo credit:  Reuters

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My Precious, My Kimlik

Nerd Alert – I find myself constantly referring to Lord of The Rings in this post.  My apologies.

I wanted to do a post about obtaining my Turkish citizenship but as it would no doubt be longer than my collector’s edition of Lord of The Rings (a total of 1,215 pages for those interested) I kept putting it off in lieu of, oh I don’t know, having a colonoscopy or maybe root canal surgery or even spending an evening having my finger nails pulled out by the likes of Sauron, Osama Bin Laden or Donald Trump.

The ringAnyway, so I kept putting it off waiting for hell to freeze over but as we are now in spring and we have already hit the 30’s a few times here in Mersin it is clear that the second coming isn’t going to be knocking on my door any time soon and so … I give you … the story of my citizenship.

Before I go any further let me get the important stuff out of the way before I start banging on with my unnecessarily long diatribe.

You will need:
• Passport
• Birth certificate
• If you are married to a Turkish national, official documents confirming the identities and family ties of the spouse and all underage children (can be obtained from Nufus ofis)
• Marriage Certificate (in my case)
• Certificate of your ability to speak Turkish (well I think we all know that I did not have that document)
• A medical certificate confirming that you are of good health (obtained at any hastane)
• Four passport sized photographs (bollocks!  Get 10 and then get another 10)
• Completed application forms (we obtained from Emniyet but as mentioned now issued by Nufus ofis)

All documents issued overseas must be translated and notarized.

There will also be unannounced polis checks made to your home, polis reports made back in your home country and fingerprinting done.  It is very thorough.

My one piece of advice to each of you currently thinking about or obtaining citizenship here in Turkey is perseverance is the key.  Be prepared to chase up the documents.  Be prepared to make a nuisance of yourself.  Be prepared to smile despite the fact that you want to rip off someone’s head and be prepared to be in their face as often as you can to ensure that they won’t forget about your application or put it to the side while they watch YouTube on their computer.

Timing wise Mersin seems to be dragging its heels with other cities churning out an approval at a much, MUCH, faster pace.  For me citizenship took nearly 3 years but I understand that some cities can knock over a citizenship application in only 6 months.  Lucky bastards!

Alright.  Pull up a chair, pour yourself a glass of whatever makes you feel good and … let’s go!

When I first applied for citizenship here in Mersin, nearly 156 weeks ago, I applied at the Emniyet.  Since my application the system has been streamlined *cough cough* and now you apply directly to the İl Nüfus ve Vatandaşlık Müdürlüğü (City Population and Citizenship Directorate).

After six months we chased up the application and I have previously written about that incident here.  Another couple of months passed and I was called in to the karakol (police station) for what an interview that will forevermore be called as “The Inquisition”.  In the meantime I had polis attend at our house twice to ensure that The Turk and I were in fact in a real relationship.  All seemed in order.

Right now my application seemed to be coming along nicely however not fast enough and I had to apply for an extension to my Residence Permit (one more year I swear).

Coming into my second year my frustration levels were rising and The Turk was not interested in chasing up the application anymore.  I was at the end of my tether when we got the call from the Nufus ofis.  An interview date with the Vali (Governor) had been set for six weeks’ time however as I had already arranged a trip during that period we were pushed back for the next possible date … a further 8 weeks down the track.  I was happy with that because it gave me time to throw myself into learning the language and so I spent the next 14 weeks having Turkish lessons so I could wow the Vali with my excellent language skills.

Of course on the day I was crapping myself because my language skills sucked and by the time I went to meet the Governator (typo but I’m keeping it) I was so nervous I nearly vomited.  It was crystal clear that I was going to fail the Turkish component of the interview (particularly after the earlier mentioned Inquisition) and they wouldn’t sign off on my application.  Instead they would hate me on sight and immediately throw me out of the country!  Well.  Seriously.  No issue.  Other than a hearty merhaba the panel of professionals that held the interview (there were 3 at my interview plus the Governator) didn’t even look in my direction.  The entire conversation was held in Turkish and was entirely held with The Turk.  Everyone shook hands and we left.  All the paperwork was now to on its way to Ankara for a final decision.  (I will say that I understand this is not a normal interview.  I will say that everyone that I have spoken to has had extremely different experiences when they have had this final interview.  I feel that perhaps the sun was shining down on me that day.)

Woo hoo!!!  Any day now peeps!

NOT!

Time passed and again I needed to renew my Resident’s Permit … again.  So frustrating!  It was then that I put The Turk on notice.  I’m not going through the rigmarole of renewing my RP a fourth time.  If I do not have citizenship by the expiration of this current RP I was moving back to Australia.

And that brings us to December last year when I returned from a girlie weekend in Germany and was asked at the airport to provide my kimlik (Identity Card).  Ummm?  Huh???  WTF???

That Monday we attended at the Nufus ofis with a spring in our step and requested an update.  There was much excitement when we walked in and they congratulated The Turk on his perseverance (hello what about congratulating me for putting up with all this shite?) and they handed to us an envelope.  I felt like a presenter at the Academy Awards … “and the winner is …”  Inside was the Onay Duyu Belgesi (Certificate of Approval).  Wow.  Thank you.  Only 1095 days after my original application peeps!

And this is when it all goes south …

We were told that the polis would attend at our home again in the next few days and once that was done the kimlik will be issued.  Hold on a minute!  I was told at the airport that the kimlik had already issued and this document that I am holding in my hot little hands is a Certificate of Approval.  Are we in the Twilight Zone?  No, you are Turkish now but we just need to follow procedure.  Of course.  We waited four weeks but the polis did not appear.  The Turk started returning to the Nufus each week to try and move the matter forward but to no avail.

In the meantime an expat friend here in Mersin who had lodged her citizenship application approximately the same time as me (did I mention it was nearly 3 years ago) also received her Onay Duyu Belgesi in her precious envelope and within a week she had received her kimlik!  What the holy hell?

Another couple of weeks went by.  Anything?  Nope.  Nothing.

So we went back.  And this is what happened:

Go to the Nufus.  Sorry.  Polis check needed.

Nope.  On the advice of my kimlik holding expat friend I confirmed online that the law has now changed and a further Polis check is not necessary.

Back to the Nufus.  Dude the law has changed.  Check it!  No, he tells us.  It has now changed again.  Seriously?  In the space of 3 days?  Sorry.  Wait for Polis check.  Dude I’m telling ya check it again!

OK yes you are right.  Go to Emniyet.

Went to Emniyet.  Sorry.  Go to the Nufus.

Back to the Nufus.  Waiting on Polis check.

Are you fecking serious?  The stupid is so stupid that it actually crushes you until you become as stupid as the stupid!

 

The finger

We began to experience life at the rate of several WTF’s per hour and The Turk just couldn’t take anymore.  His sanity was being held together by duct tape and chewing gum.  I wasn’t sure if he would go postal or would have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot (which would no doubt delay the issue of the kimlik yet again) but instead he sensibly went to see our local Belediye Başkanı (mayor) here in the Village for a little advice.  The mayor rang the patron at the Nufus who confirmed that the kimlik should have already issued.  Feck my life!

The next day we again attended at the Nufus where we by-passed all the plebs and went straight to the patron.  He took us over to the appropriate desk jockey and instructed him to issue the kimlik immediately.  Five minutes later … Sorry.  No polis check.  Come back after polis check.

Now being a patient, gentle sort of girl I generally don’t worry about the little things but when the imaginary people in my head start shouting, “no fecking no you feckity feck!” I know things aren’t really going the way they ought!

I looked around for a nice strong looking pillar so I could smash my head into it but instead we went back to see the patron, who took us back to see the pencil pusher, who grumbled under his breath like a petulant toddler until … finally … it happened … nearly three years but … I got my KIMLIK!!!!

Yes peeps to quote the fabled Mr Frodo Baggins, “It’s done, it’s finished”.  No more do I have to enter the gates of Modor.  I had returned the ring to its rightful place and I can now rest easy.  I wanted to high five the pleb/desk jockey/pencil pusher/sulky child but thought better of it.  I walked out of the Nufus ofis with my head held high and a great big smile on my dial.

Its done

I am a Turkish citizen.  The short line at the airport is now MY line!  Oh and I am no longer a yabancı and woe be it to anyone who dares call me one!

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My New Motto

I am going to try and keep my posts nice and light for the next few weeks.  There is so much going on over here right now with protests, bombings, the parliamentary elections and the humanitarian crisis so rather than focus on the negative and start sprouting off about things that I cannot possibly fully understand I will move forth with this motto – “If I don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all”.

This will have a two-fold effect on my life (and my sanity).  I won’t get grey hairs (read that as more grey hairs) and also I won’t have the internet trolls pestering me anymore.

So watch out for my next uplifting post on unicorns, kittens, ridiculous happenings in the village or perhaps another expose on the Turkish moustache.  To give testament to my new motto I have included this photo of a kitten to give you a clear indication of what will be posted in the future – unfollow me now.  You have been warned.

 

DSC02162

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An Update

I know a lot of you are hoping for more information on the refugee situation here in Mersin and Adana.  Right now I don’t have any new information regarding support or assistance required.  I have referred most of you onto groups in Bodrum who are giving support on the ground there but here in Mersin I have had quite a bit of difficulty finding someone who can provide me with more details.

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A big thank you to all of you who have shown support to the refugees.  There has been a lot of action in and around the refugee centres and it makes my dark, mangled heart a little brighter to see how much is going on, and how much you guys care.  Around the world there have been protests, there have been a huge influx of donations and there has been a lot of amazing humans coming together to help those who really need it.  Right now.

I will give you more information about Mersin and Adana when, and if, it comes available to me.

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Now what Gentlemen?

Yesterday the world was introduced to a little boy named Aylan Kurdi.  We have learnt a lot about Aylan in the past 24 hours.  We learned that he was born in Damascus and grew up in Kobani.  We learned that he and his family were fleeing their home (Kobani is currently under the control of ISIS) and were attempting to make their way to Canada where Aylan’s aunt had emigrated twenty years earlier.  We also learned that sadly he, along with his mother and his brother, perished in the waters off Türkiye while attempting the dangerous crossing to Greece in a small dingy.

aylan 2

The outcome to this tragic story is a positive one.  The world has finally opened their eyes and their hearts and acknowledged the plight of the Syrian refugees here in Türkiye and the neighbouring countries of Jordan and Lebanon.  We, the people, want to see changes made and we are pointing our finger’s at the leaders of those countries with closed doors.  Yes that is you Mr Tony Abbott with your “Stop The Boats” policy.  And you too Mr David Cameron calling these refugees “pests”.  Finally I have not forgotten Mr Barack Obama.  How much blame can we put squarely on his, and his predecessors, shoulders?  A lot I would wager.  Do not stand idly by.  Open your doors to those in desperate need of help.

To these three men (and to the leaders of all countries unwilling to help in this world crisis), I want you to do something for me – close your eyes.  Just do it.  Close them.

Think of your family.  Tony with your daughters, you too Barack.  You both have amazing girls, so beautiful, smart and strong.  David I don’t know too much about your family but I bet they are tucked away somewhere.  Imagine you are sitting with your wife and your children at the dinner table, or watching television, or perhaps playing in the garden with your pet dog.  Without warning gunfire is heard and you yell to your family to take cover.  The smell of tear gas is wafting through your open windows.  In the distance you can hear the sound of mortar shells exploding and the screams of terrified people as they run to safety.  Your daughters rush to their mother and begin weeping.  Your wife tries to console them but she too is shaking with fear.

You receive a text message.  A friend has sent you a warning.  You need to leave.  There are bad men coming.

You and your family are on the run now.  You don’t have time to collect your belonging.  You leave your home with the just the clothes on your back to keep you warm.  You keep moving.

Not everybody was able to escape in time.  Stories of those left behind filter through the throne of people also leaving the city. Stories of savage rapes, of massacres, much worse than you had dared to fear.  You pass decapitated bodies discarded on the streets.  You can still hear the bullets and the mortar shells in the distance.  Keep moving Tony!  For your children!  Keep moving Barack!  David!

You cannot go home but, for now, you and your children are safe.

What do you do gentlemen?  Do you look to your neighbours to help you?  Do you hope that they will give you food and a warm bed?  Of course they will.  We are all human.  We help our neighbours in a time of need.

You stand at the door to your neighbour’s home.  The door is bolted.  Your wife is crying, tears streaming down her grimy face.  Your daughter’s are terrified.  Afraid that they will be sold into slavery or worse.  You bang on your neighbour’s door.

“Please let me in.”

“Nope.  Sorry.  We don’t want you.”

“But I have nowhere else to go.”

“Tough”.

Now what?

Hug your daughter’s tonight gentlemen.  Kiss your amazing wives.  Know that they are safe with you living in a country that has so much to offer and maybe, just maybe, think of Aylan and the thousands of children just like him.

Open your doors gentlemen and let these poor souls in.  They just want to be safe, for their families to be safe.  Just like you.

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Humanity is Lost

I had an early dinner last night with some friends high in the hills behind Mersin.  In our group were 3 little boys who ran around having fun and just being kids.  They laughed, they played, they ate a hearty meal and then they left with their families to return to their warm, safe homes.

Aylan

I too returned to my warm, safe home where I sat on my terrace and opened my social media.  The one photo that was shared over and over again, the photo that filled my newsfeed was of a young boy, in a neat red shirt, blue pants and tiny, tiny shoes, no older than those that I shared my dinner with, lying dead on the beach in Bodrum.  It seems that humanity has lost folks.  This is it for all of us.

Just take a moment to look at the photo.  Really look at it.  This is the world we live in.  This little boy has been identified as Aylan Kurdi and right now should be safe in the bosom of his family and not lying in a body bag waiting to be expatriated back to his homeland for burial.

Aylan along with his mother and his brother perished as they attempted to cross the Mediterranean Sea between Bodrum (Türkiye) and Kos (Greece) in a small dingy.  They have become a statistic, one of more than 2,600 people who have died trying to cross to Europe from Türkiye in 2015.  This is the most deadly migrant crossing point in the world and this figure is only going to get higher.  Those who do make it across to Greece then find themselves in another country that is unable to cope with the sheer volume arriving on its shores – let’s not forget that Greece is in the midst of an economic crisis.  But they are still the lucky ones as they are in Europe now and their dream for a new, better life for them and their family is possible.

In Türkiye there are over 1.7 million Syrian refugees currently seeking asylum.  When the fighting in Syria began Türkiye opened its borders with the expectation that the conflict would be short lived and the refugees would return to their homeland.  Five years on and the conflict is ongoing, if not worse, and each day brings more waves of people fleeing for safety.  The Turkish Government is working furiously to support the refugees but the huge cost is taking a toll on the country with resentment building between the Turkish people and the Syrian refugees.  Turkish people are well known for their generosity but with so many Turkish families living below the poverty line there is building anger that any Government funding be directed towards helping their own people and not those who should not be living here in the first instance. Türkiye also has the constant struggle with maintaining its borders, ongoing issues with its neighbours, the very real threat of terrorism and the recent disruption to the cease fire with the PKK.

I have always been quite opinionated about refugees and asylum seekers in Australia.  The Turk had to jump through some pretty big hoops before he got residency and I believed that anyone wishing to enter Australia should jump through those same hoops but since living in Mersin my eyes have been opened to the suffering of these people running for their lives.  My selfish behaviour, and the behaviour of so many of us all over the world, is the reason that little Aylan Kurdi lost his life yesterday.

Did you know that in Australia boats filled with refugees can be towed back into international waters by the Australian coastguard?  How about the fact that David Cameron has said that the UK cannot take in any more refugees?  Is Aylan one of your “pests” David?  Probably not eh?  Did you hear that in Germany a planned asylum centre was burnt down?  In Macedonia there has been fighting at the border crossings.  In the Czech Republic police have been marking and numbering the refugees with washable ink (hello WW2) and, of course, in the Mediterranean the bodies of baby boys are being washed up on Turkish beaches.

Feck people.  We are all living on this earth.  Together.  What is wrong with all of us?  We failed this little boy and we failed his family.  He is lost to the world now but perhaps with this sad photograph doing the rounds on social media the doors will be opened for others that are running for their lives.  I know my opinion has changed.  Perhaps yours will change too.

For those of you who want to help the Migrant Offshore Aid Station is dedicated to preventing migrant deaths at sea and Save the Children is distributing essential items such as nappies, hygiene kits and food.  Give what you can.

From Save Kobane: Even the sea could not carry the heavy burden of this child’s lifeless body, so she returned him to us, to be a testimony of our failure as human beings.  

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“Grow The Feck Up”

There are days when I just cannot do it.  I just cannot “adult”.  It’s a thing you know.  I used to go through it on a Monday morning when I would be getting ready for work.  I would morph into the petulant child.  I become bitter and mean.  I would stand in my living room in my pyjamas and I would stamp my foot.  I would sulk all the way to work while sitting on my bus.  I did NOT want to “adult”.  Now it happens to me when I have to go into a Turkish Government office.

adult

You may all recall my recent yabanci post; well this is my follow up.  Shortly after that post we lodged my Residency Permit for renewal.  Now I am not going to bore you with all the idiosyncrasies with your RP.  Go to YellAli or Doc Marten for all the information as these are my “go to” websites.  Anyway, we lodged my RP.  We had everything that we needed.  We went over the documents – twice.  The Turk checked it.  I checked it.  His brother checked it (the smart one).  It was perfect.  Done and dusted.  The appointment date was easy to get and I went for my appointment on Tuesday morning.  I knew I had to “adult” but, as mentioned above, I spent my morning sulking, stamping my foot and, well, sometimes I can be just damn difficult.

And I know I have to be on my best behaviour when we get there.  I know that I need to smile and say teşekkür ederim and wish them a merry day despite their gruff behaviour but, honestly, when you know you are going to be ignored, talked about, ignored and spoken to in a manner that is nothing short of condescending and finally, ignored, it makes it very hard for me to “adult”.

Before we stepped through security The Turk whispered to me, “Don’t act like a bitch.”  Awwww.  He knows me so well.

Up to the 3rd floor we went.  We found our door – can you feel the excitement?  The Turk knocks.  In we go.  We stood at the counter while three men sat diligently ignoring us while updating each other on their scintillating personal lives.  We stood.  Patiently.  I counted to “87 Mississippi” before The Turk clears his throat to get their attention.  We have an appointment.  Without even stopping their conversation, without even looking up, one of them did the head flick (you know the one) and “tskked” us before flicking his wrist indicating we go to the desk on the right.  At this point I laughed out loud.  I had to.  How fecking rude is that?  Would this fly in a Government department in your home town.  No it fecking wouldn’t!  I stared at him and said, “Well aren’t you an ass”.  Of course, no one understands so that works out well for me.  The Turk gave me the death stare that would make Emperor Palpatine tremble in his hoodie before turning to the appropriate desk where sitting behind it was a woman who had, by her appearance and demeanour, obviously just caught her husband in bed with a supermodel.  I mean she was practically catatonic.  You could literally taste her despair and melancholy.  Seriously her aura would be a big black cloud of death!  For the sake of this post she will be known as Misery.

Documents were handed over and hurried conversations were had.  Not to me of course but between The Turk and Misery.  After a few false starts (that had us running to the other end of Carsi to obtain additional documents) Misery gave us the all clear and said we were good to go.  The new ikhamet should arrive in 4 weeks.  Yah!!!  Petulant child clapped her hands and skipped out of the building.

Friday morning we were called back into the Government office.  “Don’t wanna”, said I as I wanted to go to the beach with my friends.  Again my other persona of petulant child appeared.  I stamped my foot.  I sulked all the way there in the car.  I was NOT going to “adult”.  We got there.  Before we walked through security The Turk warned me, “Grow Up”.  Alright that was a lie.  What he actually said was, “Grow the feck up”.  (see how I keep this PG-13 after all feck is much nicer to read than FUCK isn’t it?).  I sighed.  Okay.  I can do this.  Taking The Turk’s excellent advice (and knowing that I wanted to get this done so I could go to the beach) I put a big, fat, fake smile on my dial to which The Turk sidelines me with, “Is that your Bitching Rest Face?” Yes.  Yes it is!  We were first through the door on Friday morning.  First through the security check and the first ones up on the 3rd floor.  We were ready for anything.  We sat.  We waited.  It was soooo fecking hot that my ass was sweating freely but I still kept Bitching Rest Face on my dial.  Finally we were called back to see Misery (who was only slightly less miserable in our second encounter).  She pointed at the last page, “Işaret”.  Signature.

Oops!

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Just a Bit of an Anti-Climax

So for approximately 36 hours I was an outlaw.  I lived on the edge.  I fought the good fight.  I took the red pill and I got a glimpse as to just how far that rabbit hole actually went (sorry nerdy Matrix reference) but, well, now it is all just a little anti-climatic because I am back baby!

MatrixBluePillRedPill

After being locked out of blogger heaven the “powers that be” or the glitch police or the little internet gerbil allowed janeyinmersin.com to return to the web-o-sphere.  From what I can determine certain words send up alarm bells from websites run from within Türkiye and they automatically get blocked under Article 90 of the Constitution.  Obviously all my posts about dragons and wizards fall within that category.

For the foreseeable future, however, I will keep my blogging to stories about kittens and sunshine and unicorns.  That should make the “powers that be” happy.

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BLOCKED!

Yep it seems that my humor definitely does not translate into Turkish because as of last night JaneyinMersin.com has been blocked in Turkey.  I am up there with Twitter, Blogloving and FunnyorDie.  Frankly I think this is the highest accolade I have ever received being blocked by a Government!

internet-protest

Hopefully in the coming days sense will prevail and the powers that be realise that I am but a stupid Aussie who runs off at the mouth on occasion.  They will see that I am merely an over opinionated, middle aged woman who could hardly be a threat to national security.  I mean really!

Look don’t get me wrong perhaps it is not the Government that has blocked me, perhaps it is merely a glitch in the system and I will come back online completely on my own and if that is the case then … oops sorry to the powers that be.

So for those of you “outside” I will continue to blog in my sporadic way but for those of you within Türkiye, well you can’t read this anyway so doesn’t really matter what I wanted to say does it?   LMAO!

Oh and just to really be difficult go ahead and share my blog to your friends so my voice gets carried just that little further today.

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Loving this blog? Please help me build my audience and share with like minded people who, like you, love this beautiful country called Turkey. You can also subscribe or like me on Facebook for all updates.