New Year's Miscellanea

New Year's is more than a week behind me, but I still wanted to put together a few random thoughts.

Even though this was my seventh Christmas/New Year's in Turkey, I'm still surprised each year by the way so much of western/Christian Christmas symbolism is used by Turks to celebrate New Year's!  For me, it means I get more Christmas spirit in December, as malls erect beautifully decorated trees, and stores sell wrapping paper and ribbons.

We were in Adana, and although, when we lived there I always longed for cold, snowy Christmases, this year, the blue skies and warm sun (16 degrees Celsius during the day!) was therapeutic for me.

The coal-smoke air from dusk until dawn was not!  Although I remember being mildly bothered by the smokiness of the winter air in Adana, as many people heated their homes with wood-burning ovens, this year, my throat was actually burning by 6pm, and I'd wake up coughing in the middle of the night.  It seems most households have switched to coal, which the current government is greatly subsidizing and sometimes even handing out free, to gain popularity.  What this does long-term for the health of people and the environment, seems to be a worry for another day.

On New Year's day we went to friends for brunch, and shared our resolutions for 2013 -- just the kind of meaningful conversation I love.  We also shared our new tradition, something I've gotten from a colleague, who in turn got it from a student: throughout the year, we will write down 'happy moments' and put them in a box, to be read on New Year's Eve twelve months from now.  Should be a great way to capture and relive the best parts of the year and be thankful.

Sorry no photos ... Still haven't gotten them off my camera!

Goodbye Tarsus

We're leaving Tarsus and moving to Istanbul. Four years ago, when I was new in Turkey and frustrated by how provincial Adana was, I would have given anything to have my husband announce we were relocating west; I dreamed of life in Istanbul, Izmir or Ankara, and traveled there whenever I could for a dose of cosmopolitanism.

But something happened over the past four years, and not only do I now appreciate Adana for its lack of traffic, its lovely climate (at least for the nine non-summer months of the year), its reasonable cost of living, and its safety, but I've fallen in love with Tarsus.

And so instead of tackling the logistics of packing and transporting our belongings, deciding what essentials we'll need for the month we spend "homeless" this summer, and finding a new nanny, I've been indulging in pre-departure nostalgia. Our Sunday morning walks have become pilgrimages, as we revisit our favourite parts of Tarsus. We inevitably discover new places, and are briefly consumed by the irony of not having known a place sooner.

I've also started bringing my camera with us on these walks, trying to capture what I know we can't take with us. Surprisingly few of my photos, however, are of typical Tarsus scenes, such as the mini lahmacun famous here.

Instead, I've found myself capturing Tarsus's quirks, such as this rooster tied to a sign post in the middle of the sidewalk;

or the way the city's once-beautiful architecture has been ruined by misguided attempts at renovation, such as this 'modern' second storey addition to a historical building:

I found this remnant of a balcony with its two well-tended flower pots absolutely lovely:

I've also become obsessed with buying unusual Tarsus 'souvenirs.' The first thing I bought was an old oxen's yoke I had seen hanging on the wall of a local carpenter's shop. I'd seen it months earlier and thought it would be an interesting feature in a home, but months passed and I didn't go back and buy it. But as soon as I found out we'd be moving to Istanbul, I decided I couldn't leave Tarsus without buying the yoke.

And then there is the cauldron. Like the yoke, the cauldron spent some time on my 'to-buy-one-day' list. I first came across the little corner shop with the polite older Armenian gentleman selling all things metal a few years ago, and immediately saw the artistry in the cauldrons he had lined up outside. But once again, it wasn't until I realized I might lose the chance to buy one, that I was overcome with anxiety and just knew I had to have one. Closed on Sundays and only open until 7pm on Saturdays, though, weeks passed between my decision to buy one and actually making it to the store with my husband, whom I always take along to do the bargaining.

We finally made it one Saturday afternoon. My husband chatted with the proprietor while I considered which kazan to buy, settling on a handmade copper-coloured one with excellent craftsmanship and a thick grade of copper. Unfortunately, it was also large, much larger than either of us had originally envisioned. But I stubbornly refused to settle for any other, more reasonably-sized cauldron, since they weren't as beautiful.

And now it's time to start packing.

Snow Days

I'm trying to hire a nanny for September, when we move to Istanbul. Today one asked whether she'd get snow days off. Snow days? Snow days!

Here on the Mediterranean our weather is pretty much the same all year round. It took me a while to get used to not checking the weather forecast first thing each morning -- will I need an umbrella? A sweater? An early start on my way to work? But I'm not complaining; who would, if they woke up each day to a cloudless turquoise sky and knew that every day was t-shirt weather?

With time I've learned to see the subtle differences between this region's four seasons, and I appreciate them. Spring and fall are long, not rushed like they are in Toronto; and although most bahar days are as hot as a summer day back home, they still have that distinctive smell that neither summer or fall have. Sure, July and August here are unbearably hot, but there are ways around that -- air conditioning and the beach!

But I miss snow. There is no snow brush in my trunk; no skates in my closet. And I miss the feeling a snowfall excites. The other day, we took a walk after a rainfall and I started to warn my husband of a slick black spot up ahead on the pavement. (The sleep-deprived brain is a tricky fellow!) But I stopped myself mid-sentence -- it was twenty degrees out; the nearest black ice was six months and 2000 kilometres away. But the incident made me realize the extent to which winter is in my bones.

Which is why one of the reasons I'm excited about our upcoming move to Istanbul is its climate. There will be snow in winter! (And snow days!)

Why Turkey isn't Europe - Part II

It turns out that in addition to "changing" our son's birth date (click here if you missed that post), we could have also fudged his birth place.

My husband is from Adana, although we live in Tarsus, 35km away and part of another county. Naturally, we registered Baby's birth place as Tarsus. But friends and family continue to express surprise that we didn't have Adana put on his kimlik, the Turkish identity card.

But that's where his father is from, they say.

And, It's not like he's going to grow up in Tarsus!

True, but it's where he was born. And that will always be a part of him. As will his father's Adana roots and his mother's Canadian ones. Living everywhere but his birth place just may turn out to be a defining part of his identity, as it is mine.

(pictures: typical Tarsus homes; Adana kebab)

Turkey's Real Architecture

Let me preface this by saying I will follow with a post on beauty. But since it has taken me a few years to get over my culture shock (read: the "everything's better in Canada mentality") and see the beauty here, I'll introduce you to this subject as I experienced it, namely ugliness before beauty.

Turkey is famous for its beautiful mosques and Ottoman architecture; its colourful tiles and intricate copper work. But the reality is that there is unfortunately a lot of ugliness too; ugliness made all the more so by the hot, dustiness in Adana. A former industrial city, the wealthy business owners have mostly left, and migrants from the surrounding rural areas have moved in, giving Adana the nickname of city-sized village.

An overview of the visual landscape:

• a prevalence of concrete
• the use of brightly coloured paint to soften said concrete
• flat roofs littered with solar panels and hot water tanks
• satellite dishes and air conditioning units visible on all vertical surfaces
• uneven sidewalks and storefronts
• litter
• little greenery; lots of exposed dirt and dust

I understand that economics is a factor, but I am not criticizing poverty. Often, it is the places where the most money is spent that are the most offending. For Adana is in many ways booming, and construction is taking place everywhere -- most of it to house the growing middle-class population. Luxury apartments and villas have also appeared in the three years I've been here.

But even if the building is more than just a painted concrete block and promises to provide a bit of beauty, just as it is receiving its finishing touches, up go the water tanks and the air conditioning units. Inside, wall tiles are often laid crookedly and stained by dripped paint; wood trim and parquet flooring also have paint on them; and electrical outlets 'float' in the middle of walls, having been placed several feet off the ground beside light switches; and for mysterious reasons, crown mouldings hang from the ceiling six inches in front of windows, allowing curtains to be mounted on a track on the ceiling behind.

For me, it is the collision of modernity with a simpler way of life, where modern trimmings and appliances are used by those who have far more important concerns than aesthetics. I'd far rather see an old wooden window frame with hand-sewn curtains, than sloppily executed attempts at elegance and luxury.

Fashion Sense

I seem to be dressing my burgeoning body better than I was pre-baby bump. I find myself putting more thought than I used to into what I wear, planning outfits the night before -- down to the jewellery! -- and looking forward to getting dressed in the morning. I suspect all this has something to do with feeling the need to compensate for my lack of what society considers fit.

Lucky for me, pregnant is in! Last week's Project Runway (season 6, episode 2) had the designers making maternity outfits for Rebecca Romijn; the current wave of celebrity pregnancies is getting lots of tabloid time; and new maternity fashion lines seem to be appearing daily!

Except in Turkey. Or at least not outside the hippest parts of Istanbul. At least not where I live. Mainstream shops like Gap and Benetton don't sell their maternity lines in Adana or Mersin; local stores dedicated to maternity wear are selling things my mother wore when she was pregnant with me. 35 years ago. Down to the polyester fabric.

I spent hours window shopping online, ogling the clever designs of Boob and sleek outfits at Isabella Oliver, with whose Wrap Around Top ''As Seen on Gwen Stefani'' I fell so in love with, I was willing to spend 85 Euro on it! But in the end, my fear of buying something without being able to try it on got the better of me. Note that it wasn't logic or practicality that got the better of me, just fear.

I did find an outlet store in town, Kuzens, that carries some maternity clothes. Selection and size availability is completely random, but I managed to buy two pairs of great jeans for about 20 Lira each, and a sundress by Old Navy! And while thrilled with my purchases, the sting of the irony soured my joy somewhat: while Turkey manufactures all the items I bought, they're all destined for export and not available to locals! There must have been some kind of a flaw in each of the pieces I bought. The rest of my current pregnancy wardrobe consists of great empire waist tops and oversize women's shirt/tunics, which all my favourite Turkish shops seem to be carrying this season.

Even though I haven't been comfortable in heels for months, and I've never been one to sacrifice comfort for the sake of fashion, today's outfit just wouldn't have been complete without these old favourites:

Biting the Bullet

I've been meticulously scouring the internet, making lists, polling friends ... and the only thing to come out of it is my being overwhelmed and subsequently discouraged! Albeit briefly. Never one to stay defeated for long, I decided last week to bite the bullet: when so little of what is out there is actually available to me here in Adana, I need to narrow my field and actually go to a store and make some decisions that don't take every single factor in the whole wide world into account.

And so I did. I went into Özge Bebe, whose less-than-remarkable window displays had in the past always caused me to keep walking by. However, it actually surpassed my expectations! Talk about looks can be deceiving: there's a whole basement full of stuff! It had all the essentials, a wide selection of strollers and prams, and really knowledgable saleswomen. I pretty much made up my mind on a Chicco travel system (infant car seat + stroller); decided that a play pen would be a more practical investment than a bassinet Lily will grow out of after three months; did a quick scour of what else was to be had, and left, renewed optimism radiating through my bulging blue veins (another surprise of pregnancy!).

I then went home to research Chicco and the brands over which I'd chosen it (Kraft, Quinny). What I found:

Kraft vs. Chicco: essentially the same, so it came down to brand preference. Since I couldn't even find a website for Kraft, I chose Chicco.

Chicco vs. Quinny: this was trickier, as I was severely tempted by Quinny's amazingly attractive design. (Can you spot my attempts to convince myself in the reasoning below?)

Chicco
*half the price
*plenty of underneath storage
*not super light; folding it up and hoisting it into the back of the wagon would be a workout
*typical-looking, boring, like every other mommy's stoller in town

Quinny
*double the price
*zero underneath storage, unless you buy a Quinny basket sold separately ... which on principle annoyed me
*So light, I could lift it with a finger! And compact!
*Oh-so sleek and sexy-looking! Would definitely set me apart from every other mommy in town

Ok, so I still sound like an obsessive compulsive planner, but this is an improvement! I was comparing two items, actually available to me!! And in the end, I did make a decision -- today I'm going back to buy the Chicco stroller and playpen.

Next project: crib. Am sorry to say I still have a looooong way to go on that subject.