Dracula's Domain

Monica and I went to Romania to visit, Alex, one of the old Istanbul trainees. The 12 hour bus ride was a great experience but also a bit sketchy. There is some kind of weird trafficking going on betweenthe two countries. So being from North America, and having never made this trip before, we were completely out of place. Aside from the little Turkish we know, we could not understand any of the languages (BTW, Romanian has the same type of sounds as Italian and belongs to the same family as Spanish and Portuguese. We were expecting it to sound a bit more like Russian than anything. Romanian is the only romance language to be developed in eastern Europe). The bus attendant understood our vulnerability and pointed to a woman and told us she would help us out along the way.

The woman seemed to be very fashionable with her black stiletto boots and black jacket decorated with rhinestones and fur lined hood. At the first check point between Turkey and Bulgaria we got out of the bus and weren’t exactly sure what we were supposed to do so we followed everyone else down the road to the boarder patrol. Along the way the women started showing us the whole checkpoint routine and asking where we were from and what we were doing. Then she started taking out all of this gold jewelry and putting rings on my fingers and braceletes on my writsts. Monica and I weren’t sure if she was giving them to us or if she was trying to sell them or what. Then I looked up noticed we were walking towards the boarder. I freaked out and rememberedwhat happened to Bridget Jones on the sequel when her friend gave Bridget something to take home from Thailand because it wouldn't fit in her own suitcase. I started having thoughts of being thrown in prison with a bunch of prostitutes with no bras who didn't speaka lick of English except for random songs by Madonna. I was struggling to get all the jewelry off and back to her before we got to the boarder. I felt bad because she looked offended.

When I described the women to my Romanian friends they instantly started laughing. Turns out she was a gypsy trying to get me to smuggle the gold jewelry from Turkey through Bulgaria into Romania.

Thank youBridget! Now I don't feel quite as bad having paid 8 Million TurkishLira to see such a horrible sequel. If it wasn't for "Bridget Jones,The End of Reason" being the only movie in English at the theaters inIstanbul I could have been stuck in some freezing cold Bulgarian prison and raped by the guards until the U.S. Foreign Service Officer would come to save me.

Bucharest was just as I expected it. Cold, dirty, grey, and bleak.We stayed in a one room apartment with only two pull out couches for Monica, me, and three other guys. Two of whom seemed to be an exact replica of Doug and Steve Butabi from "A Night at the Roxbury." It was hilarious!! Their quest to pick up chicks and their mating dances were just as ridiculous if not worse. They ended up to be pretty cool guys and were wonderful hosts for picking us up from the bus station at 5 AM and letting us chill at their pad for three nights.

There wasn't really much to see in Bucharest, one historical building and a few churches. The biggest deal seemed to be the shopping mall. To us it was pretty cool since they actually had something different than every single store in Turkey. Ahh…the feeling of variety, how wonderful.

At night the guys took us out on the town for some fun and drinks. Again the feeling of having the ability to choose from a list of more than two beers was overwhelming. This made the decision much more difficult but definitelywell worth it. I never appreciated the taste of a semi-decent beer so much as I had then. The clubs were cool, pretty much reminded me of the bars from home. We actually couldn’t get in to a few of them because of the dress code. Monica and I didn’t realize we had to pack our big boots and hot pants.

The women in Bucharest were super fashionable. They all wore stilettos and super cute jeans (folded up one time to see the boots), tight shirts and full make-up. The girls were pimped out and played the game better than anyone. It was interesting to watch male-female interaction at the clubs and bars. It’s completely opposite of Turkey. The women seemed so much freer. It makes me realize once again how restricted women are in Turkey. It seems so weird that even I have adapted to the Turkish culture and felt a little uncomfortable seeing the way the girls were dressed and the way they were acting in Bucharest.

The last day we went ice skating, drank hot wine with cinnamon, and were served a delicous dinner. We couldn’t believe the guys were able to make such good food using such an old bent up electric burner. But it was wonderful. We had chicken, super yummy fries, and some pickled red peppers.

We took some great pictures including one with us petting a lamb that a small gypsy girl was carrying as we were leaving the one of the bars. Unfortunately I didn’t get one of the Roxbury brothers or our romantic candle-lit dinner before the battery died. Even more unfortunately my camera went missing. I must have left it at the apartment because I couldn't find it anywhere in our luggage. I really hope to gypsy women didn’t take it as we were preparing our passports for one of the eight check points on the way home.

The ride home was quite nice aside from our being late for the bus and having to be taxied to catch up to it. We knew now who to lookout for and what to do at every check point. Plus we got to sit up in front in the no smoking section and could see out the front windshield like we were sitting in an omni theater watching some documentary on the villages of Bulgaria or the trafficking of goods between Turkey and Romania.

I still don’t understand how the bus driver found the way to Istanbul. He took all these turns on tiny little roads through tiny little ghost towns in the back country without any signs directing us where to go. It seemed as if he was driving in the general direction just hoping to make it to our final destination. Even though we had such a great time in Romania, seeing the first mosque in Turkey all lit up at night was the most wonderful feeling. We were home. Hearing Turkish music and the Turkish language (each time the bus was pulled over by the police) seemed surprisingly soothing. The whole trip really made me appreciate Turkey for its beauty, mystery, and its warm and friendly people. I love Turkey!

My Turkish Family

Late Sunday afternoon, after a long night of partying, I was woken up by a knock on the door. To my surprise it happened to be a colleague of mine who was sweet enough to stop by and check on me after I missed work Thursday and Friday due to a horrible case of the flu. So she opens the door to six sleeping girls in a room full of pillows, beer bottles, and wine stains on the floor. Hmmm…still recovering from that flu of yours Nikki? So she ended up inviting me to a traditional Turkish dinner at her family’s apartment. Caught in the numbness of my hangover I was unable to come up with an excuse of alternative plans so I accept the invitation and agree to be ready by 4:00 p.m.

I had planned to go to the pastry shop to pick up some baklava as a gift, but unfortunately I exhausted all of my energy just by showering and by the time I was about to recap the night with my roomies Ilay had come to pick me up for dinner. She shows me to her uncle’s car and we ride through the back streets of Kasimpasa. I have no idea where the hell I am but it seems like a whole new world to me. Real life in Turkey; people walking past broken down shacks, dodging random wood pieces on the skinny cobblestone streets going to the market to get fresh bread for dinner. As we finally arrive at her family’s apartment and I’m thinking “god, I didn’t have any idea she lived in a place like this. What a difficult life!” But once inside I was absolutely amazed. Their apartment was beautiful! The apartment had classic Turkish furniture and was delightfully decorated and quite a lovely view of Taxim Square, Galata Tower, and the Bosphorus from the kitchen. It had one bedroom and one of those bathrooms that convert to a shower when needed. Quaint but cute. Grandma and her sister lived next door and Uncle Metin downstairs.

Once comfortable in their home with nice warm slippers anne (mom) immediately served 5lbs of delicious homemade börek (a cheese type pastry) to me and the rest of the family. After the first pound or so I was quite full but noticing everyone else cleaning their plate I felt it would be impolite not to finish everything given to me. I thought my stomach was going to burst! I made the excuse that I was still slightly ill so that I could lie down. We hung out with the fam for a while, watched Turkish music videos (please see Monica’s web log for more info http://monicastravels.com/blog/blogger.html it’s under “Music and Clubs Dec. 27th), took pictures family pictures, and talked about whatever we could with the small amount Turkish that I know.

Somehow our conversation turned to Raki. Metin dayi (Uncle Metin) immeadiately went down to his apartment and brought up a bottle of Raki. They quickly cleared the coffee table and set out some cheese, banana chips, orange slices and two glasses for each person participating. The women were forbidden by anne to drink the Raki but of course since Ilke new I like it I was pretty much forced to down at least a glass on top of all the borek. So it was pretty much me Pops and Uncle Metin getting drunk together while watching what seemed to me to be pornography disguised as Turkish music videos. Encouraged by Metin dayi, Ilay would take a swig here and there every time anne would go to the kitchen to bring out more tea or anything anyone needed.

It was suggested we all play a board game at the kitchen table. Metin dayi busted out his game called O.K. It’s similar to Gin Rummy but with little chips instead of cards. It was men against women and between each turn Metin dayi would go back to the coffee table for more Raki. Although I was a little tipsy I learned to play quite quickly and starting winning a few rounds. But in the end the cheaters (the men) somehow came out on top.

It was getting late, I was getting quite tired, and the bottle of Raki was quickly depleting. and just as I was about ready to politely ask them to bring me home anne began to serve dinner. I thought “What?! Dinner!?! Yo..I’m still nauseatingly full from the börek and Raki. There is now way I can even attempt to put away another bite of anything.” But of course I said, “Oh my goodness! This looks wonderful!!” It was a traditional Turkish dinner; it would be rude to say no. So we started with lentil soup, followed by salad, melitzanes papoutsakia (stuffed eggplant), bread, and even more börek. Oh my god! It was delicious but I thought I was going to roll over and die. When everyone was finished and starting to clean I couldn’t do anything but sit in my chair as I couldn’t move or even talk. I’m not sure how it happened as at this point I was still a little dazed from my over consumption of food, but I have some recollection of being given a pair of lime green pajamas and a nice bed to sleep in. I woke up the next day to two girls hastely getting ready for work. I through on the clothes I had been wearing the day before, brushed my hair and was out the door with two kisses from mom. She named me her third daughter and invited me to come back as soon as possible.

Talk about Turkish hospitality!!

Börek

Börek: Thinly rolled pastry, often the paper thin variety known as yufka, is wrapped around various savory fillings or arranged in layers . The myriad types of börek are unmatched delicacies when cooked to perfection. Boreks can be fried, baked, cooked on a griddle or boiled. Traditionally it was said that no girl should marry until she had mastered the art of börek making. Preferred fillings are cheese, minced meat, spinach and potatoes. In the form of rolls filled with cheese or minced meat mixtures and fried, böreks are known as "Sigara (cigarette) boregi". Böreks should be light and crisp, without a trace of excess oil. (Info taken from:http://www.allaboutturkey.com/mutfak.htm)

Börek

Börek

Raki: Turkey's Traditional Drink

Raki (rah-KUH) is clear brandy made from grapes and raisins, flavored with pungent anise, and diluted with water. It's similar to Greek ouzo and French pastis. When mixed with ice and/or water for drinking, it turns milky white. Because of its color and alcoholic punch, Turks call it lion's milk (aslan sütü).
If you like licorice and anise, you may like raki; if you don't, for sure you won't.
A clear, straight glass is filled half with raki, then diluted with water and/or ice to suit the drinker's taste.
A traditional raki sofrasi ("raki table") bears dozens of meze (MEH-zeh, Turkish hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, salads, cheeses, etc.) While sipping raki and nibbling meze, there's good conversation, much humor, and many toasts to your companions' health and prosperity. After you've eaten far too much, the main course of kebap or fish arrives, to be followed by a dessert/sweet, fruit and Turkish coffee.

Thirsty Turks sip 60 million liters of raki each year, mostly with meals.

Raki

(Picture taken from www.turkishculture.org and information from www.turkeytravelplanner.com)

New Years Party with Academix, ASBA, and a2 Fairs. Yes, us wonderful women run the entire show. Of course we have a few men around to move the funiture around for special occasions. Happy New Year ladies!!  

Finally I felt at home with much more food than we could come close to consuming to celebrate the holiday.  

Some of us look as if we haven't even graduated high school yet.  

Cok Cok kokesh next the the Christmas Tree. Never mind having a Christmas tree for Christmas but apparently if we didn't find a tree in time for the New Years party, it wouldn't be a party at all!! Thank you so much, Ozge, for donating your tree and decorations to save the party. 

Me and Ilay 

The life if the party! Let me tell ya, these girls know how to dance. Once the lights are low and the music starts these two are the first to jump up on the tables and shake it, Turkish style! 

Ipek's daughter 

Aslihan's daughter 

"Welcome 2005," Istiklal all decorated for the New Years party in Taxim.  

Shaun, Ashwak, and Megan starting up the festivities for New Years.

We had a little of everything. Polish vodka, Indian gin, a little Effes and maybe even some raki, not to mention the wine and bacardi we pulled out later in the evening. Talk about a hangover.

Marta and I  

Martina and Shaun. For some reason Martina and I were feeling our short syndrome a little more than normal and insisted on standing on chairs for the majority of the night.  

Aakash and his gin from India. 

Aakash and Megan 

(Why is it that I am always the one that takes the group photos but is never in them?)  

Megan and I all bundled up and ready to party in Nisantasi. 

Nisantasi New Years Celebration. This is exactly why we lost everyone. Thankfully we all met up again a few hours later at Dolmabaci and went to a friend's flat where we moved out all the furniture to dance the night away.
 

Not sure if this is before or after opening the wine bottle and taking pulls on the crowded street. 

Happy New Year!! 

Monica and I celebrating Christmas with the only santa we could find on Christmas Eve. Too bad we never made it to French Street for dinner. I think it had something to do with my festive green and red jello-shots I made for appetizers. Ooops!!