Tag Archives: antalya

Driving Miss Janey

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I recently started driving here in Mersin having purchased a brand spanking new, beyaz (of course) Nissan Juke.  I am finally an independent woman and can get out and about without having to catch 1, 2 or more dolmuş.  This has the added bonus of being less likely to be sneezed on, kidnapped or generally treated like a second class citizen while travelling on the public buses here.

Speed-Limits

Because I am a kind and thoughtful blogger I have put together a few helpful hints for those of you who intend on driving here in Türkiye:

  1. When driving on the road use your horn – all the time. It seems that we have been wrongly instructed to only use the horn sparingly.  Fallacy!  Use your horn to show how happy you are, or how sad you are, or even how horny you are (get it.  horn/horny).  Rarely the horn is used to in agitation.  Better to use your horn than your brakes (after all the horn will last longer).
  2. Pedestrian crossings are not actually for pedestrians. These black and white zebra style markings on the road is in fact a sign for us, the driver, to speed up.  If some fool does try and cross my best suggestion would be to aim right for him.  This has a two-fold effect.    You get where you are going faster; and 2.  You help him get a cardio workout.  In fact you are doing him a favour and he will no doubt smile and wave to you when he reaches the other side of the road.  This has happened to me often.  The Turk tells me it is not waving but that is neither here nor there.
  3. When at a red light you are at liberty to disregard such red light.  Instead you should think of your car as a chess piece and it is now your move.  Manoeuvre your chess piece to the front of the lights so when the lights turn green (or orange) you can shoot out like Mario Andretti.  If you do not play chess then be prepared to start using that horn (as mentioned above) and hit it as soon as the light change to show how happy you are.
  4. Left or right side of the road?   Either.  Whatever.
  5. Feel free to ignore those silly signs on the side of the road. You know the ones 50, 70 or even 120.  These signs are not actually the speed limits they are signs that indicate how many pedestrians have successfully made it to the other side of the road (true!).  The numbers never change because making it successfully across is a pipe dream.
  6. Another rule that was drilled into us while we were learner drivers and that should be totally disregarded here is using your mobile phone. In fact I stress to you that you must use your mobile while driving.  Multi-tasking is a skill that should be utilised by you.  I find that while driving you merely point your car in the direction that you want it to go and continue your chatting on your mobile or texting your cousin.  Allah will get you to your destination.  Or not.

Bonus hint – Seatbelts are an optional extra.  Merely a suggestion by the manufacturer.  And if you, like me, have a new car with that pesky alarm warning you of your impending death should you not wear your seat belt merely lock the seatbelt in place before you sit down (as suggested to me by my brother in law).

* Disclaimer:  Some days my humor is lost on The Turk and so, on his advice, I disclose that this post should not be construed as instructions on the driving laws here in Türkiye or in any other country.  You should always adhere to road rules in the country that you are visiting or live in and here in Türkiye “road rules” means “no rules” LOL!

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Snippets of Wisdom

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As an expat from sunny, organised Sydney I grew up very entitled to way things should be done.  Since moving to the melting pot of crazy that is Mersin I have had to learn, and sometimes the hard way, that shit just don’t happen the way it is ought to.  If you are making plans to move to Mersin or in fact to any city in Turkiye my earnest advice to you is this –

mersin

Nothing ever happens according to schedule

The Turkish way of life may seem crazy and hectic but on closer inspection it very much operates on a slower pace than most.  Time management is obviously a course not taught here in Turkey.  Just take it as a given that things don’t happen according to schedule and embrace the chaos.  Save your sanity.  You are going to need it.

The Turks love overcomplicating things

Speaking of schedules if it can be done quickly and efficiently then it is being done wrong and should be thrown out the window.  Who doesn’t love a little red tape with their morning kahve?  Me that’s who!  I have spent more time in notaries, the Emniyet, the Nufus, Polis and any other Government department you can name having papers stamped then running to the other side of the city to pay a lodgement fee (why you cannot pay your lodgement fee at the time of lodgement is completely beyond my pea sized brain’s understanding).  If by chance you are in the right place at the right time then you are dealing with a worker who will no doubt tell you that you do you need additional documents, or additional photos or even additional stamps, to sort out whatever it is that you’re trying to get done.

Don’t forget that everything shuts at lunchtime.  I know!  The idea of going to the bank on your lunch break just doesn’t exist here.  Instead you spend that break standing at the door of whichever bank, post office or Government department in the hope of being the first through when it re-opens an hour later.

Bonus advice –passport sized photos.  Get them.  You have them already?  Pfftt!  Get more.  You are going to need them.

Queuing is not a thing

Ahh how I miss the simplicity of the queue.  Particularly in places like the Emniyet where you may step up to the counter in the Foreigner’s Office only to be inundated by a crowd of sweaty men (generally it is always men) who will yell over you to get their point across.  My advice?  Don’t stand there patiently waiting your turn while the crowd drifts along.  Use your elbow and throw out a curse word in your native tongue on occasion.  It may not help but you will definitely feel better.  Learn to do as they do or you will never see the light of day again.

Personal space is but a pipedream  

Remember that scene from Dirty Dancing “This is your dance space, this is my dance space”?  Yep it doesn’t exist here.  Everything is their dance space.  Your dance space just doesn’t exist.  Sure come and sit next to me.  No don’t be silly, of course a little closer is fine.  Stare at me intently.  Who doesn’t appreciate that?

Family comes first (and sometimes second and third as well)

This is the most important point to learn if you wish to survive here in Mersin (or Turkiye).  If you are fortunate enough (or unfortunate enough depending on how you feel at the time) to be married or living with a Turkish man (or woman I don’t discriminate) remember that their family will become part of your existence.  The love of their family, the strength of this bond is one of the most intense emotions I have ever witnessed.  They idolise their mothers.  She can do no wrong.   Learn to embrace that now or pack up and move back to your point of origin.  Expect them to be on your doorstep at the crack of dawn, to tell you how you should clean your home, how you should cook your meals and how you should raise your child.  Oh and buy yourself a couch that opens to a bed – you are going to need it.

Is there anything you think I have missed?  Let me know below.

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Too Different

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I’ve talked before about holiday romances, Turkish men and the heartache that they can cause.  In fact my Love Rat post was, and still is, the post with the most views since I began this little blog.  I want to declare right here, right now, men are just men.  They are not from Mars.  They are not made up any differently to us they just have an extra chromosome (and an extra rib).  To put it simply: there are some good ones and there are some bad ones.  They can be your best friend but they can just as easily break your heart.

love rat 2

With summer now at an end the Turkish forums are full of love rats and stories of woe.  Yes there are love rats here in Turkey but they are also located in France, Italy, the US, Australia – hell they are everywhere!  But this story is about my friend Evie who knows I am writing this.  She wants people to read it, to not make the same mistakes.  She has/had a love rat and and that love rat that just so happened to be … Turkish.

I met Evelyn (Evie) at a shopping centre here in Mersin about 6 months ago.  She had moved here from northern England to be with her handsome and *cough, cough* somewhat slightly younger man that she met whilst holidaying in Antalya in June last year.  After many emails, Skype dates and telephone calls Evie packed up her life and moved to Mersin.

It has not been easy for Evie.  She did not speak Turkish at all (I feel her pain).  She could not work as she did not have the right visa and she found it incredibly difficult to make friends here.  I totally related with her after all Mersin is definitely no tourist destination and expats are as scares as hen’s teeth.  As we were both in the same boat Evie and I quickly developed a close friendship and she became a frequent visitor to our home here in the Village and I at her home in Pozcu.  Her fiancé, Mehmet (name has been changed to protect the not so innocent), seemed nice enough I guess.  Definitely younger and it was clear to me that perhaps the infatuation did not run as deep as it did for Evie.  It certainly made for a difficult visit when she brought him over one night before The Turk left for Australia as The Turk is quite intuitive and could see right away that Mehmet was not deeply in love.  In fact when they went outside to smoke on our terrace their conversation that began in low voices quickly escalated loudly enough for me to go out and investigate.  Needless to say The Turk was not impressed with Mehmet.

Two nights ago Evi arrived on my doorstep unannounced.  It was pretty crazy at our house with The Turk having taken ill back in Sydney but Evi needed my help NOW!  Mehmet had gone.  Where?  She did not know.  All of his personal effects were gone, most of the furniture was gone and the rent had not been paid on their apartment for the past two months.  She had left that morning to go to the shops at Mehmet’s suggestion.  She had been gone no more than 3 hours.  How is this possible?  She was bereft.  Her heart was broken.

Right now I am steaming mad.  I am mad at myself for not saying something to Evie when I first had doubts.  I am devastated that my friend has had to find out that the man that she loved was not who he seemed and that the love that she thought they had meant little or perhaps nothing at all to him.  Evie was planning her wedding and Mehmet was planning his escape.

Over breakfast this morning she asked, “How could I not see him for who he was?”

It’s simple.  L.O.V.E.  We’ve all been there.  You meet someone.  He sweeps you off his feet with the romance that has been missing in your life.  Walks along the beach.  Whispering sweet nothings in your ear.  The best sex you have ever had!  Oh yeah!  Seni cok seviyorum.  I used to laugh at The Turk when he threw “I love you” at me every 5 minutes when we first got together.  But he still managed to cast his spell and I was smitten.

Two different cultures, two different countries.  Just too different.

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Simarik

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Have you ever found yourself staring into space, daydreaming perhaps, recalling a song that will transport you to a memory, moment in time, of love, happiness, sadness or even fear.

When I travelled to Turkey in 2000 I met The Turk but I also found myself obsessed with a pop song by the Turkish pop sensation by the name of Tarkan.  Tarkan had a hit song that summer called Şimarik (actually Şimarik is a repeated hit for Tarkan every summer and even today will be heard at least twice during a night out – I am sure he could retire on the money made from this song alone).  Şimarik means naughty in Turkish and this song definitely was integral to many people (including myself) doing some very naughty things during the summer of 2000 in Bodrum, Turkey.

When I first heard this song I loved it.  I didn’t know the name, I didn’t know one word from the song but the beat was mesmerizing and I found myself dancing night after night to the tune while holidaying in Turkey.

Returning to real life meant no more dancing on tabletops, no more sunkissed days and hot, sweaty nights and instead I could be found sitting behind my desk, arguing with lawyers and clients day in and day out – depressing really – but then that song, that tune, that beat would enter my mind and I would close my eyes, even if for a moment, and think back to the music, the dancing, the sunshine, food, lifestyle, hell it takes me back to one of the best holidays I had ever had!

In 2002 the a rather bland version of my favourite song appeared on Australian Radio being sung by an Australian actress / singer Holly Valance.  “Kiss Kiss”, was definitely a lot easier to sing along to but did not hold the memories of the original song for me.

Now that Youtube has been reactivated in Turkey I typed Şimarik and watched the film clip for the first time ever.  Yikes!

I thought he was hotter.  Everything gets better when you look back on it but I really thought he was hotter!  I think it’s the nose.  here is a photo of Tarkan with no shirt on.  Much better!

tarkan 1

Oh you wanted one of his face?  Sorry, I didn’t realise 🙂

tarkan 2

Slightly jaded now (really shouldn’t have watched it on Youtube).  I still don’t know the words to Şimarik but when that song comes on the radio I find myself humming along remembering that fateful summer when I first met The Turk and pretty much every summer since.

Do you have a favourite song, a song that takes you back to a special moment?  As long as it is not Celine Dion, I’m all ears, send me a link.

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The Village

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I have now been living in the Village for 10 months and have decided that it is not really a köyü (village) it is more of a şehir (town), in fact that way that it has been growing you could even say it is a suburb of Mersin proper, an outer suburb but a suburb nevertheless.

When I first started coming to the Village 13 years ago it really was a köyü.  There was more farmland than houses, more farm animals than people but in the following years the urban sprawl that is Mersin has spread and, like a disease, taking over the quaint köyü and turning it into part of a spreading metropolis.

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Although we are still surrounded by farms the view of the sea has disappeared behind apartment blocks 5 stories high.  There are still farm animals but they are a rarity now (except for my damn nemesis that lives behind us) and what was once grazing land just west of us is now streets full of little houses (and some not so little) being built at a speed that astounds me.

It is lovely and warm now (in fact I would go so far to say it is hot) which means I spend more time going on walks or riding my bike around in the köyü (or şehir).  I did not realise just how big the Village is.  To ride my bike around the whole köyü would take me a good hour or two and walking would probably take me a full day (taking into consideration stopping for chats).

I often ride my bike from Atasyolu to the north right around to the deserted beach east of the Village.  The Turk and I sit at this beach and dream (well he dreams and I lie on the sand and enjoy the sunshine).  He wants to win the lotto and buy the land here, turning it into a resort (so, you know, adding to the urban sprawl).  The beach really is exquisite, so clean and the sand is like soft, white snow.  This beach could give some of those resorts on the west coast a run for its money.  Again anyone who does eventually get their hands on this land (assuming we don’t win the lotto) would definitely be onto a winner particularly if the Council start to realise just what a beautiful spot it is and utilised the potential instead of squandering it by allowing industrial filth to be built there.

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Honestly just look at this beach!  It could be Fraser Island – in fact here is a photo of The Turk on Fraser Island a couple of years back.  Amazing!  This beach east of the Village is pristine beach.  Unpolluted.  Unsullied.  A dream come true.  The Turk and I can sit on this beach for hours and not see a soul.

Not Turkey I repeat not Turkey!

Not Turkey I repeat not Turkey!

 

Frankly it is a little sad that the modern world has caught up with my quaint köyü and tainted it (slightly) for me.  But such is life is it not?  If you don’t keep up you will only be left behind.

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