Tag Archives: culture shock

Headlines and News Bulletins

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They can make a strong impression on us as tourists but where is the line between scaremongering and truth?

I try to keep away from the political side of things with my little blog because I am really not knowledgeable enough on any subject to give anything but a nonsense reply however I have received so many emails from you guys asking for advice about travelling to Türkiye, and in particular, to Mersin.

Turkiye

While it is not for me to give you advice what I will say to those who are thinking of cancelling their holidays to Antalya or Bodrum is this – the distances between these areas and the Syrian border is massive – like the distance between London to Germany.  That’s a couple of countries and even a little water in distance isn’t it?  Over 1000 kilometres or 20+ hours of driving in Türkiye.    To those of you visiting Mersin and its surrounds we are still 150 kilometres from the border with Syria however most of the issues with terrorists are happening in the far east, some 500+ kilometres from here.  If you are, however, travelling to Eastern Türkiye I would suggest that you check with your country’s Consulate before making any travel plans but remember people a terrorist attack can happen anywhere at any time.  America, the UK, Tunisia, India and even Australia.  Nowhere is really safe anymore in the world.  I guess the question you ask yourself is this –  “are you going to let them control your decision, your lives?”  Noone can decide that but you.

What is going on exactly?

The past few days has seen Türkiye launch strikes on several different fronts and you need to note the distinction between the different strikes that have been made.

Firstly Türkiye has launched attacks against ISIS targets inside Syria in retaliation to a bombing last week in the city of Suruc which killed 32 people and also the shooting of security officers at the border.  Simultaneously they launched attacks against the PKK (which has been designated a terrorist organisation by Türkiye) in Iraq.  These attacks were in retaliation to the deaths of two Turkish polis officers on Wednesday.   The Government also feels that the PKK is exploiting ISIS efforts.

Where do we go from here?

Türkiye has agreed to allow the US access to their air bases to co-ordinate strikes inside Syria and Iraq and has requested talks with NATO over the security of the area.  Well I am sure this will open up a can of whoop ass on someone.

Over the past few days Türkiye has also arrested over 850 terror suspects.  This is great news although I have to wonder why, if these terror suspects were already known to Türkiye, why where they not arrested earlier?  Am I wrong?  Did these 850 terror suspects suddenly appear out of nowhere?  Hardly.

The current operations underway is obviously an effort to destabilize the country which is at this time without a proper parliament.  Will the efforts succeed or will it bite the instigator on the ass?  Time will tell.

*Sigh*

Ultimately as a tourist visiting Türkiye, your personal safety is your utmost concern.  Keep a close eye on news reports.  Register your travel plans with your Consulate and remember you are the only one that can make an informed decision as to whether or not you should travel.

Turkey map

Be safe guys.  Türkiye is a beautiful country and I am sure you will have a wonderful holiday when you visit.

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The Return of the Turk

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I had many, MANY comments and remarks regarding this recent post about The Turk.  Most of the comments were very positive but there were a few that, well frankly, scared me out of my socks.  Internet trolling at its very best.

Now I want to start by saying that I don’t make this shit up!  It is just too ridiculous to even contemplate so, after a short drumroll – rat tat tat tat – I give you a new story.

The Turk left Sydney at 6 am on Tuesday morning – so about 9 pm Monday night Turkish time.  He was upgraded – lucky buggar – and spent the first 13 hours of his journey sequestered in business class and enjoying all the luxuries associated with such a class.  After a 4 hour stopover in Dubai he continued his flight onto Istanbul arriving shortly after 5 pm last night.  Yes Australia is a long way from Turkey – and he’s not even home yet.

He gave me a quick call from Istanbul saying he was feeling a bit poorly.  He had a headache and had had a bleeding nose on the second part of his journey.  Well me being me I immediately started to have a freak out but he told me he was fine and was waiting on his connecting flight which was to have him arrive in Adana at 10 pm.

His brother Akan went to Adana to meet him while I stayed home and made lamachun and salads for his arrival.  11 pm came and went.  Midnight came and went. 1 am, 2 am – they both came and went.  His brother’s mobile was turned off.  The Turk’s mobile was not yet connected so that was not working.  Where the feck was he?

Had he had a heart attack and was in hastanesi?  Had the plane gone down?  Had they had an accident driving home through the torrential rainfall that we had over the past 24 hours?  Holy crap!  He hasn’t signed my kimlik documents!  Yes I am sorry to say that that went through my head.

By 3 am I was completely having a meltdown.  We had not had any electricity for most of the day (and all of the evening) so I couldn’t even check on the internet if there was any news that I could integrate into my over active imagination (nightmares of flights over Ukraine come to mind here).

3.35 am and Akan’s truck pulls into the driveway.  Where the feck have you been?

Oh we went for corba!

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God give me the strength.

Anyway this morning he hands me a Duty Free bag.  Exciting.  Presents.  I know what you’re thinking.  Jewellery maybe or some French perfume?  Nope.  Three bottles of good Aussie plonk.

I know I might complain about The Turk a lot of the time, alright all of the time, but … he really gets me.

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Songul’s Tepsi Kebab

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December has arrived with a bang and I am pulling out my long-johns (I don’t really have long-johns) and turning up the heat here in Mersin.  The skies may be blue right now but there has been a load of snow up in the mountains behind us and enough rain to keep me indoors watching old movies and contemplating cleaning the house.

snow in mersin 2

Along with the cold weather in Mersin the menu changes to suit.  It’s starting to get too cold for a barbeque so our meat dishes need to be cooked indoors (which kind of ruins my fun).  Our garden is overflowing with Swedish chard so no doubt I will be making borek for lunch over the next few weeks.  We also have leeks, which will mean lots of soup, as well as celeriac which is another weird vegetable that I had never heard of before arriving in Mersin.  These days I serve celeriac mashed with garlic which is delicious.  Finally there is Quince everywhere so I can make my father in law’s favourite dessert and every single pomegranate tree is overflowing with ripe fruit right now so Daughter can usually be found with her cousins pilfering the fruit from the neighbour’s trees and leaving their sticky hands everywhere.  Yummo.

Last night my sister-in-law and her family came over for dinner and so I needed to prepare a dish large enough to feed 7.  Answer?  My sister-in-law’s favourite – the Tepsi Kebab or Tray Kebab.

What you need:

2 finely cut soğan (onion)

4 cloves of crushed sarımsak (garlic)

1 bunch of maydanoz (flat leaf parsley)

Cay spoon pul biber (red pepper flakes)

Cay spoon kimyon (cumin)

Tuz (salt) and karabiber (black pepper) for taste

Tereyağı (butter)

1 tbl Kırmızı biber salça (red pepper paste)

½ kilo kıyma (mince meat)

Like most Turkish recipe’s you need to get your hands dirty so mix all the ingredients really well and I mean really mix them together – your hands should be bright red along with your cheeks due to your efforts.

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Finally I press the mixture onto my kebab dish (or pizza dish or even a large oven dish) and add a couple of teaspoons of butter to keep the dish moist.  I also cut up pieces of chilli, tomato and onion for presentation.

Cooking time varies.  I prefer a low oven (say 150-160) for 30 minutes so it does not dry out.  Once it is cooked my kebab is placed on the table (in the pan) along with lavaş (flat bread) and salads.

Alright it might not look sensational but it tastes delicious!

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Afiyet olsen.

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Wankyu Gida … um?

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Quick one folks.

I came across this sign today and … well … we all know my Turkish is abysmal but “Wank in food”?  Is that really what it is trying to say?  Makes you wonder what their special sauce might be.

Anyone care to translate?

DSC00142

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Rage against the Latrine

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Warning – excessive use of Game of Thrones memes following.  Continue at your own risk.

I am well versed in the art of the squat toilet and it is an art form indeed.  I know that the squat toilet can be grosser than gross.  I know there will be a bucket or a hose and I know what to do with it.  I always BYO my own paper, never trip over the step and always remove my mobile before pulling down my jeans.  Hell I even carry my own sanitizer, as it is highly doubtful that there will be any soap – a nightmare for any self-respecting germ-a-phob such as myself.  Yes sir, I know my way around a squatty.  Nothing is going to phase a squatty pro like me but last night my worst nightmare came to life.  A nightmare so terrifying that you, gentle reader, will run, not walk, from the next squat toilet that you come across.  This story proves that there is no rest in a rest room, no dignity in the long drop and nothing but crap in the crapper.  This is my story.

My most recent post discussed the hava (weather).  It has been cold, not polar vortex cold but cold enough for me to go all nerdy and proclaim “Winter Is Coming” a la Game of Thrones.  See what I did there? Throne?  Toilet?  It will become clearer.

cold 2

Last night and despite having succumbed to Daughter’s sickness I found myself at dinner with some Turkish friends at a lokanta down by the sea.  It was really no hardship as we had been without electricity for most of the day and we also had no running water so cooking dinner was going to be a bit of a trial anway.  By the time we got to the restaurant the downpour had become a monsoon and it was colder than Joffrey’s blackened heart so I did what I always do to fight the cold – ordered a bottle of red.  Dinner was excellent and I enjoyed myself immensely forgetting about my sinus headache and the gale that continued to howl outside.

After quite a few glasses of wine it was time for me to visit the iron throne and I toddled off in my high heels to locate the bathroom behind the lokanta.  I opened the door and my first reaction is my normal reaction when I see a squat toilet.  “Ewww”.  My second reaction was to hold my breath as I stepped in and locked the door behind me.  I did what I needed to do, made slightly easier in the high heels funnily enough, and turned to flush.  The hole below me began to groan, a strange groan akin perhaps to Hodor fighting against a Lannister – “HODOR” – and I stepped back to make a break for freedom.  As I took that step in my heels I slipped, whether it was from the rain or the urine soaked tiles I will never know, but I found myself on all fours facing, but thankfully not actually in, the squatty.  Phew.

hodor

As I took a moment to regain my composure the toilet gave another groan, this time it was the groan of the dying Oberyn Martell as he took his last breath (I mean honestly his head looked like cantaloupe that had fallen from a horse and cart!).  I stared at the squatty as the groaning intensified and suddenly, to my horror (and taking into account that my head was no more than 30 cm from the gaping hole) my “sacrifice” along with everyone else’s began gurgling up intent on escaping from its excrement stronghold.  It was Mt Etna coming to life!  Dear God in heaven help me!  I scrambled to my feet ignoring the thoughts of the germs that now were embedded in my hands from my fall and I fumbled with the door handle as the slow moving mountain of shit continued to escape from its volcanic dungeon.  Holy shit!  Literally, there was shit everywhere no doubt a casualty of the flooding that was happening outside the lokanta!  The ground became a brown carpet of evil and I threw myself against the door, yelling at the top of my voice “Bok! Bok!”  I ran into the open air gasping for breath and staring at the shit that was now slowly oozing through the doorway and wondered why I never have my camera when I really need it!

game of thrones

The owner came running and it did not take him very long to realise what had happened.  He began to holler at me, at his staff, at Allah and anyone else who would listen.  Not really sure what I could do to help I left him to it and skidded across the courtyard back into the restaurant leaving my shitty foot prints trailing behind me.  I stood in front of my friends completely soaked, freezing cold and partially covered in shit.  Instead of sympathy they reacted in exactly the manner that I would expect all friends to react.  They laughed.

Finally and continuing with the Game of Thrones feel I have going I add one final meme.

cold 3

I thought it was funny.

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Today’s weather forecast is … crazy!

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Oh my fecking God!  Yes it is a little chilly outside but, please, people, calm the feck down. Let’s not lose our head about this.  What is cold anyway?  To those of you visiting from the UK it is in fact rather pleasant in Mersin at the moment.  Yes there is a chill in the air.  There is a fresh layer of snow on the mountain range behind us and yes it was raining earlier in the week but is it cold?  Ummm, I really don’t think so. 

Right now I am wearing short sleeves although I admit you definitely need a cardigan at night.  Around me though people are dressing as if we were dealing with a polar vortex, discussing whether they need to dissect a Tauntaun (sorry nerdy Star Wars reference) and deciding whether to wait it out in the New York library with Jake Gyllenhaal (well alright if you insist).  Sorry folks it is just cold and it is not really all that cold for that matter.

day after tomorrow

You know once the weather changes here Turkish people literally lose their minds.  They verily believe that if it is not 400 degrees then you need to layer.  Actually even if it is 400 degrees you still need to layer but not with the same intensity. Cover your back!  Cover your neck!  Do you need a scarf?  *Sigh*

Flash back – middle of summer and I take Daughter and her cousin to the park.  Daughter is running around in shorts and a singlet and Tatli is wearing  – a singlet.  A t-shirt.  A long sleeve top.  And she is carry a jacket with her.  A jacket!  She must keep her jacket with her at all times.  OMG!  It is literally – literally – 400 degrees in the park and Tatli has a jacket!  Calm the feck down people!  Daughter is drenched in sweat in her singlet and is throwing water on herself at any opportunity yet she’s the crazy one?

Truthfully though right now Daughter is sick.  I am told by my kardeş (sister) that it is my fault because I have allowed Daughter to go outside in 25 degree heat wearing her short sleeve school shirt and without woollen stockings.  Diagnosed with akut bronşit (bronchitis) she has spent the past few days in bed.  Actually that is not accurate.  She has in fact spent the past few days lying around on the couch, surfing the internet and watching old episodes of Pretty Little Liars.  She has been prescribed a butt load of medicine (which she is, of course, taking reluctantly) although the clinic doctor is well aware of how I feel about enjeksiyonlar (injections) so he refrained from prescribing the Turkish equivalent of a headache tablet – the all secretive aşı (vaccine).  This “vaccine” is suggested every single time I go to the clinic.  What is this secret shot?  God only knows but I can assure you I am not pumping Daughter with some unknown aşı by our neighbour whose official title is “village injector”.  Trust me Doc once the antibiyotik kicks in you certainly don’t need the magical aşı pumped into your ass twice a day for a week!

So yes it is a little chilly here. Will Daughter wear a jacket next week?  Probably.  Is there a Snowpocalypse forecast?  No, but if you are coming to Mersin in November, bring a cardigan alright?

Rant over.

Education Turkey style

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The Turkish education system is screwing with me.  Literally!

The village school just decided in all its wisdom to amalgamate the morning and afternoon classes.  This means that all of Year 6 has been allocated an afternoon session which means my entire life has been uprooted.

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The past twelve months have been early morning starts.  I am used to the early morning starts and after 3 months of holidays I had to re-adjust to these early morning starts again.  Up at 6.00, breakfast, dressed and Daughter out the door in time for school to start at 6.50 in the morning.  I will just say that again yes 6.50 ante meridiem.  For me an early morning start meant washing done early, house tidied early, out to do the shopping or run errands – I even had time to blog – while Daughter was at school and, be home by 1 pm when she walks through the door.  I was totally motivated to get things done.  It also gave Daughter lots of time to hang out with friends after school, get her homework done and spent 2 hours a day with her tutor.

Now our carefully made routine has been thrown thoughtlessly out the window by an unthinking school board. I understand why this situation has come about.  In Turkey the Ataturk Reforms put in place that primary school education must be available for all in Turkey and that it is compulsory between the ages of 5-16.  Compulsory it may well be however if there are not enough schools these ridiculous plans are put into effect and, like Daughter, children found themselves either up at 5.45 or (as is the case now) does not get home until after 7 at night when it is pitch black outside thanks to the lack of street lights.

The village school is adequate.  I cannot say much more than that.  We opted to put Daughter in the village school to give her the opportunity to learn the language without the pressure that an özel okul (private school) puts on kids and to make friends with other children in the village.  The teachers worked very closely with Daughter to help her transition into a new learning environment and I cannot fault the assistance that the teachers have given us.  She is currently taught Turkish, maths, science, social studies and foreign language (English) although she spends half of the English lesson teaching English to the teacher!  She also does religious studies (definitely a bone of contention with her and a situation that brought us up to the school more than once).  Oh and did you know that Turkish primary students are not taught about any other country until high school?  I imagine that this is to teach them about national pride (Turkish are very proud countrymen) but to watch Daughter draw a map of the world as home work recently and she had to label “Türkiye” – Turkey, “Avrupa – Europe”, “Aysa” – Asia and “Amerika” – America.  Frankly the lack of detail made me feel a little ill.  I questioned where Australia was but apparently Avustralya didn’t even make it into the equation!   Umm Hello??  I made Daughter go back and draw Australia in and put a big ass arrow on it!  *sigh*

It is clear to me that once The Turk returns from his “holiday” (read that as luckily visiting Australia when he had his heart attack) we will be visiting the private schools to decide which school is best for Daughter and, as a bonus, the private schools have normal school hours albeit longer school hours although I haven’t made that public knowledge just yet.  Yes private school education is definitely on the cards now and, perhaps with the normal school hours (and longer hours) I can take back control of my now out of control life.

Right now the only good thing to come out of this ridiculous change in our routine is Daughter getting a decent breakfast and lunch prior to going to school.  It also means I don’t have to yell at her to get her ready for school.  Today she turned to me at 10 and said, “Well I guess I better start getting ready.”  Um – OK!

Kurban Bayram

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Today marks the eve of Kurban Bayram and its 4.5 day celebration.  All the households are busy with preparation for the celebration.  I am frantically cleaning as I know there will be a constant flow of guests through the door.  Daughter is crazy excited as there is no school until next Wednesday and can currently be found downstairs with her cousins while trying to round up My Hurley Dog who appears to be chasing kittens around the garden.  The Turk’s sister is arriving tomorrow with her family as well which means a very full household for the next week.

All this plus a sneaky expat get together on Saturday night means I will probably not be around for the next few days.  For those of you who are unaware of Kurban Bayram I wrote a piece last year (link below) which sums up my thoughts on this celebration.

To all my readers I say Kurban Bayramin kutlu olsen and I will be back on board next week.kurban bayram

Incidentally I don’t think the sheep are really all that happy about Bayram.  Pretty sure about that actually.

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The Turkish Moustache

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With The Turk currently Down Under having something akin to a heart attack I sit here in Mersin thinking about what could have been.  Not with him – I know how that story goes – but with other, more glorious, men.  I think we have already sufficiently covered my Brad Pitt fantasies.  I also have had similar fantasies with Liam Neeson and, OK look, I am going to admit it, Sean Connery.  I know he is old enough to be my father but damn “Sir” you are still fine!

With all this spare time and taking into account the fact that Brad is newly married to my nemesis, Liam is no doubt still grieving the loss of his gorgeous wife and, well, I think I need to pass on Sir Sean (unless you are reading this Sir Sean then “I’m willing if you are”), I decided to do some research on hot Turkish men.  Actors or musicians, after all I do live in Turkey and need to start being slightly patriotic (although admittedly the men mentioned above are not Aussie).  As an afterthought but certainly no less smashing I shall now mention Hugh Jackman and will also throw my hat into the ring for one of those young, delicious Hemsworth boys.

After making my decision to undertake this important research to bring you, my dear readers, the hard (cough, cough) facts, I set forth on this tough assignment by doing a Google search on “hot Turkish men”.  The search engine gave me 4.8 million results.  Hmm I was no doubt going to be very busy.  I then got side tracked and found myself doing a Google search on Brad Pitt.  This brought up 6.9 million results.  “Stop it Janey!  Back to the task at hand!”

I want to start by saying that I definitely have a type.  I like a man that is dark (well duh!), rocks facial hair and works well with his hands.  I should have an abundance of choice here in Turkey then shouldn’t I?  But I find myself in a bit of a dilemma.  The question that has given me many a sleepless night (not true) is this – what happens when you put a moustache on a hot guy?  I will tell you.  That hottie turns into a nottie!

exhibit a

Meet Ibrahim Celikkol.  Hottie right?  Yes please.  He is an actor who has starred in many television shows over here in Turkey but what happens when you put a moustache on this hottie?  1970’s porn star!  This guy is obviously an amazing actor or is paid a lot of money to sport that particular mo’!

Exhibit B

Burak Özçivit.  Again Wowza!  Young, handsome, great hair!  He reminds me a little of A.C. Slater but put a moustache on that mug and what have you got?  Freddie Mercury’s much younger cousin.

exhibit c

Look at the brooding hotness of Murat Ünalmış.  And then throw not just a mo’ but a full fledged beard on this hottie and he turns into what?  He looks like the guy that I brought my tomatoes from this morning.  Hold on, I think it is the guy I brought my tomatoes from this morning!

Last one I promise

exhibit d

How about Tolga Karel.  I think he is a reality tv star here.  Survivor or something.  Good looking guy.  Then there is his mo’ shot –this is a professional photograph.  He chose to rock that mo’ and undo the buttons on his denim shirt (do people still wear denim shirts?).  His stylist dropped the ball on this one folks.

The list keeps going.  As I said I am a big fan of facial hair but here in Turkey the moustache must be a sign of power, of virility, manly men undertaking manly tasks sporting manly, man hair.  Honestly they are all sporting the whisker here.  Someone please write to Gillette and ask for, like, 10 million free samples of their best blade.  That should be a good start to ridding Turkey of this evil appendix to the hot Turkish man.

Just to prove that it’s not just a Turkish male that cannot pull of the mo’ here are photos of my Brad, Liam and Sean rocking the mo’.  Brad – so wrong it’s not even right, Liam – there were some bad photos but then I can’t do that to my Liam and, finally, Sir Sean – a mo and a turtleneck.  Help me please.

rocking the mo

There are some honourable mentions though in the hot Turkish men Google search.  Starting with Kivanç Tatlitug.  Seriously, I could not find a bad photo of this guy.  Is it just me or does he remind you of a Turkish Brad Pitt.  Building up a sweat with this one.

Honourable mention Kivanç Tatlitug

How about Caglar Ertugrul?  He could be Jake Gyllenhaal’s long lost brother.

honourable mention Caglar Ertugrul

Come on people.  Give me some names.  I am happy to do the research for you guys, to bring you the best of the best to drool over but I am going to need somewhere to start.  But he has to be hotter than Kivanç Tatlitug.

hottie Kivanç Tatlitug package

Just putting that out in the universe.

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What’s Mine is now Yours

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Now I don’t know what the correct etiquette is in this situation but let me tell you a story and perhaps you, my dear and favoured readers, can give me some advice.

Over the past six months I have been photographing my zeytin ağaci (olive tree) in my garden with the intent of showing my olives growth, change of colour, harvest and finally the curing of my olives.

The past few weeks I have been keeping a close eye on the olives as they were looking pretty good and, in fact, I asked The Turk prior to him leaving for Oz as to when I should harvest.  “Give it two weeks,” was his reply.

Done.

So today I went out to my olive tree, my big beautiful olive tree and … my olives have been pilfered!  How is this possible?  How did I not notice that the olives were gone?  I mean I must be pretty oblivious sitting here typing away on the computer and not hearing or seeing what is no doubt going on right under my nose.

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I feel violated.  Robbed of what could potentially be my best blog post.  I had researched the best way to cure olives and also researched some quick solutions for curing (including fast curing in the oven).  I was going to bring you some amazing pieces about my olives but now I have hiçbir şey (nothing at all).

After some nosing around I found out that my sister in law harvested the olives last weekend and has already begun the curing process.  Next year then.

But let’s just look at my olive tree over the months shall we?  April – little tiny buds.  Spring has sprung and the olives are just starting to push through to reach that precious, precious sunshine.  May – I can see it, there will be olives.  They will no doubt be delicious because I am going to cure them and make them my own.  June – yep, keep it coming little olives.  I see you are trying your hardest to be the biggest, juiciest olives ever seen in the Village.  July – I think you WILL be the biggest, juiciest olives ever seen not just in the Village but in all of Turkiye.  Champion olives!  And finally August – you will soon be in my tummy!  Or not!

Don’t fret though gentle readers I still have my biber salçası (pepper sauce) that is currently drying out in the sunshine upstairs.  I will give you a blow by blow account of that soon enough (assuming someone doesn’t swipe my sauce under the cover of night).

So what do you think I should do?  Let it go?  Say something?  I am at an impasse.  I know, I know I will have many opportunities to cure my olives and I appreciate that my sister in law was trying to help but I really wanted to try and do this myself.  Bilmiyorum.