I<3Turks

Let me just say that the hospitality here is amazing, and the people are so friendly and warm. I'm having an amazing time enjoying myself in this culture, and even though silly religious people and war make a sad Meaghan, those are only small aspects of my time in this culture. Everyone with whom we're staying and everyone whom we've met at the university have been more than nice. I'm particularly lucky to be living with Gözde, who offers me water (you can't drink the water here, she says, and I'm not about to test that), her coffee, and all manner of food from the kitchen, as well as just here knowledge of the area, like shopping and dining.

We (Gözde, Dilek, and I) went out to dinner earlier, and because it's Sunday and places are closed, we ended up at the mall, which is apparently the fourth largest in the world. We went up about seven escalators to find the food court, and then I had pide, which is sort of like pizza. He said that if I didn't like it, then I don't pay a thing (but why on earth would I not like pizza, especially with that cheese--kaşar--on it that I loved in those wraps the other day!?). I paid 9,95YTL for it, and because there's no 5 kuruş coin, the guy offered me çay or kahve if I wanted it, which I politely refused, mostly to be polite. We got baklava on our way out, which we had seen on our way in, and I said that I was paying, but they wouldn't let me. I don't mean that I politely offered, I mean that stubborn Meaghan decided that she was paying for the damn sweets, and I was legit denied being allowed to pay. I want to cook a big meal and buy some water or coffee or something for them before I leave, or take them shopping and buy a cute dress or whatever, but I don't even know if I'll be able to pull that off. Mostly, I wish that they would come stay with me in the US sometime, which would be wonderful.

We ate baklava whilst watching Son Osmanli (The Last Ottoman) in Turkish! It was a very nice film, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I even had a bottle of fruity mineral water stuff that was like a way not-sweetened with high fructose corn syrup soda, and it was delicious.

All in all, everybody offers everything everywhere. We're going to bed soon, and waking up a smidgen early so that I can collect myself and Gözde can finish her drawings, which I can't help but think that I may have caused to be unfinished...

I can also totally officially speak very broken Turkish. =D

Input: AC 100-240V -, 50-60 Hz, 1.5A

I am scared of electricity. I managed to shock myself (pretty badly) when I first tried to plug in my adapter. Something about placing mine hand over some poorly-placed metal parts...

Whenever I place anything into an outlet here, the outlet sparks. This is freaky. Not to mention the fact that the voltage is different here and I'm terrified of starting a fire or melting everything.

Funny story, this.

We were advised not to bring our computers, but as I was travelling on, I brought mine. A few others did as well. We definitely made the right decision, and everyone else realises this and uses our computers. I'm quite fine with this. Cristina, for instance, is paying me in Q-Tips, as I managed to forget to bring a bunch, and those little swabs are valuable. I don't mind so much, except when either my computer or my charger randomly disappears.

Theresa was using my charger last night--she asked--and I went to sleep not worrying about it. This morning, she asked me if, perchance, my computer wasn't holding a charge. I told her (with the old Girl Talk blasting in my left ear from my shuffle...) that, to the best of my knowledge, my computer was, in fact, holding a charge. Sometimes, it got confused about whether it was charged and the time remaining to charge, but I attributed that to all the programmes running.

She seemed perplexed, and then began to describe a small problem.

After our trip this morning, we were back at the residences examining me charger. To the best of my knowledge, the cord right next to the magnetic part that plugs into my computer had, well, melted.

Hm.

It was most definitely not charging. After some frantic internet searching (Apple, yoru products are both beautiful and intuitive, but your website is the most convoluted and difficult to navigate page that I have tried to use since ACES, and why the hell don't you have e-mail customer support!?) we managed to find Apple retailers in the area and made a plan to search them after lecture. The cord cost $79, but unfortunately and for some unknown reason, 89€. Theresa offered to pay and I didn't even refuse and wait for a second offer to accept.

We searched a few stores to no avail, although I was able to explain what I needed. One kind man gave us directions to a store that would have it, and I actually understood them and got us there. We found the adapter and bought it, and I felt like I had a late birthday present.

It's so cool! The best part is that it's the European version, but the way that it is designed to interchange a long power cord or a short, straight-to-outlet plug, I can interchange both my two European plugs and my two American ones, saving me the trouble of buying the $80 international adapter kit thingy.

I stuck it into the plug by my bed, and within 10 minutes it wasn't charging anymore (the light just turned off, which means that the plug wasn't connected to any power source...?). Luckily, it works in another plug in the room, which means that I'm now scared of the plug by my head. Also, I managed to read the inside of the plug by my head, which said that it was 250V, and the adapter runs on 100-240, but the straight-to-outlet part says 250, and I bought them here, anyways! Stupid electricity. Heaven forbid anything be standardised internationally.

We determined that the probable cause of the meltdown was the fact that she covered the computer in pillows and didn't like the distracting sound of the fan, so when that kicked on to cool the hot circuit-board, she pushed the computer farther into the pillows, overheating something or other and melting the electricity...? Who knows. I do know, however, that I have wicked cool European plugs for my Mac right now, which makes me wayyy cooler than most US Mac users.

HARDCORE 4 LIFE

Time for a hyperactive entry. To-day, we went to a small town to meet the mayor, who is apparently responsible for pulling some strings so that we would have somewhere to stay during Expo time. Most of the girls came in dresses to look nice, and on the bus before we were leaving, we were told that we were also going hiking, to which AJ said something to the effect of, 'That's what you have to expect on this dialogue: dress for meeting a mayor AND hiking.' Indeed. We ran and changed, but I just grabbed a change of clothes, and I ended up using only my shoes, because why not hike in a soy-silk dress?

We bussed to the small town, another of which I don't know the name, los torros something? Ah, Torres de Berrellén. They mayor gave us a lovely little tour. She was a very tactile person, which I love. She thought that I understood much more Spanish than I did (I'm quite good at, if no understanding, knowing when to nod or comment in order to look like I understand...), which was both a compliment and then an awkward conversation.  The town was colourful, and an old male villager kept inviting us around to places as well. I noticed that his frail hands were gnarled as he curled them around each other behind his back. His partially-toothless, almost guileless smile was so sincere as he informed us of a plethora of things that we could never understand, as they were all in Spanish...

We also saw some graffiti. I need to devote a whole post at some point to street and aerosol art.

After a lovely complimentary breakfast of coffee and pastries at a local taberna, we bussed again to Montecayo, which is the largest peak of the Iberian range of mountains. We heard all about the mountain and its history, its flora, and more things in Spanish.

We also saw some goats. Maaa! Maaa! There was a chick fight.

Minimal hiking, some trees and water--it was pretty much just like home, except with less water. There were even ladybugs everywhere, like swarming on the screen door for a month in summer.

We drove a few metres to the monastery. There, we got a terrific tour from a woman who was self-conscious about her English-speaking abilities, but they were top notch. Also, she was adorable, which made any forgotten words totally excusable, with her cute searching in the air for them.

O, silly religious people. Seeing the stones marked with 'A,' 'R,' and a key was interesting. Also, there used to be stairs. 

Other than that, the monastery was a gorgeous, austere place until the monks decided that less austerity was probably not going to be that distracting, and they Baroqued-out.

All in all, I think that the concept, like that of organised religion, is laughable.

I did, however, learn some new things:

--Monks are even more ridiculous than I thought.

--No talking, except for in two separate areas.

--Confessing all your sins means the sins of talking in those areas, eating, and even snoring, which everyone knows are all sins.

--If you have sexual thoughts, then you have to make yourself bleed to forget them.

--Were I a monk, I'd die of blood loss in less than a day.

--Just like Santa Claus, god and big brother are watching you all the time.

Newburyport boardwalk, circa 1993

Children chasing pigeons is a timeless classic across the globe. O, did these little Spaniards make me smile. They were giggling uncontrollably. Life is beautiful.

Having no expectacions crossing the pond, everything here is wonderful and interesting to me. It isn't 'not what I expected' and it isn't 'unlike typical Spain' because I have no notion of those things. I like this very much.

To-day we visited the pilar, which is the place that the virgin appeared in the first century on the same day that in 1492, Christopher Columbus doomed the advanced civilisations of what is now modern central and south America (named after Amerigo Vespucci). There's a 9-day long fiesta around 12 October here. O, Christianity. There is a huge basilica in the centre of town which is apparently also a pilgrimage site. O, Christianity.

I was actually a little saddened to see such a beautiful church. Churches, to me, are quiet, anxious places in which I never feel quite right (unlike cemeteries, which always calm me and in which I could spend hours). The basilica saddened me because I knew that there had been a beautiful mosque standing there before it, and the church part was just sort of heaped on top. I suppose that that's what happens when one religious group ruthlessly attacks, invades, mirders, and drives out another in the name of the same god, but it still can't help but get me down.

I did kiss the feet of Jesus (don't worry, I put my hand over his feet and kissed that--this isn't the Blarney stone) for all who would have liked to do so in my family, so if you're reading this and won't ever pilgrimage to Zaragoza in your long lives, then consider it done. I was thinking of you.

Before all this, I was approached by one of those beggar women who aggressively reads your palm and then asks for money. I knew what was going on, and was sort of amused by the whole thing, so I let her, instead of practising my 'No, lo siento. No me gusta. No, gracias' as I did (many times) later. I actually understood most of what she was saying, which was nice. I'm a beautiful, strong woman who will have three boys. Score. As she was holding my palm (I like light touch in a calming way), she would kiss her other fingers and point to a part of me like my palm lines or arm, and say, 'Aquí es una mujer fuerte. Aquí es...' She blessed me and gave me a huge spring of rosemary, which 1 I love, 2 is now scenting my clothes, and 3 was totally worth the 2€ that I paid her, because there was no way that I was giving her the 20 that she sought.

We sat near a fountain in the central square that was cut in the shape of Spanish America before walking to the Aljafería, which was magnificent, albeit another amalgamation of ages. Michelle and I imagined how we're going to decorate when we move into it--the only foreseeable problem being the obscene exchange rate. The dollar plummets by the day, and sometimes by the hour; I kid you not. I blame bother Bernanke and everyone else. I digress. I'll apologise with a show.

Go ahead, click it.

Still a chill night. I haven't managed to get to the pool(s), but Kristina and I did suit up with every intention. Right now, we're reading assignments and being comfy. Yay low-maintenance roommates. We have to be up, dressed, ready, and full by 0820. I should sleep. I still have yet to get into town (0,09€ bus fare and a 15 minute ride) for dinner and nightlife. Will do.

ps Mark, I totally did it as we were lifting out of Logan--forgot to tell you.