Big City Girl

Image by Oberazzi via FlickrIf I have to choose between being a city girl or a country girl, I'm afraid I have to choose the former. Yes, I miss Tarsus and its friendly neighbourhood vendors, inexpensive fresh produce and spices, and its simplicity. But in the month since we've moved to Istanbul, I've already been enjoying several aspects of cosmopolitan life that I just don't want to give up again -- at least not until I retire!

• Sweet potatoes. Yes, they cost 12TL per kilogram; but I can now buy them if I want to!
• Mommy groups -- they exist! Haven't found one of my own yet, but in the meantime am enjoying ...
• ... the company of the dozen or so other foreign mothers married to Turkish men I've already met.
• Other English speaking children for Baby to socialize with and connect him to his non-Turkish side.
• Organizations such as Professional American Women of Istanbul (PAWI); I won't even go into why this is wonderful! (I know I'm not American, but they welcome Canadians too.)
• Resources for expats, such as Professor Anna Lia Proietti’s seminar on raising bilingual children I'll be attending next month.
• Real pedicures.

Big City Girl Turned Small Town Girl?

Although I'm loving Istanbul, must admit to several 'rural migrant' behaviours and attitudes, most of which revolve around food:

• I've had my husband bring back huge amounts of pul biber, homemade salça and tomato conserve from his visits to Adana;
• I jealously hoard the homemade jams and wild honeys my in-laws send;
• I've taken to complaining that the coffee isn't as fresh here and speaking fondly of the way I used to be able to do x, get y, and go to z back in Tarsus;
• I timed a trip back to Adana to coincide with a monthly trip to the kuaför and put off finding a new one here for a few more weeks;
• I am repeatedly surprised by the gruffness of the local Istanbullu.

Could four years away from Toronto in the middle of Turkey have turned me into a small town girl?

Secret (Flawed) Weapon or Flying with Baby

A few months ago I wrote about the security guards at my school melting as they cooed and even kissed my son; policemen have changed their minds about giving me a ticket, anxious about me getting Baby home. This weekend I unexpectedly but gratefully accepted the assistance of airport employees, from security guards to grounds crew, as I traveled alone with Baby for the first time.

Image via WikipediaOne passes through a security check just to enter a Turkish airport, meaning I had to take Baby out of his stroller and fold it up to put it through the x-ray machine several times. On each occasion, security personnel enthusiastically offered to hold Baby while I dealt with his paraphernalia. Ditto for the people who take the stroller at the entrance to the plane and deliver it again when you land. No one was interested in helping with the pram; they just wanted to hold Baby!

Until it came to the flight crew. In my darkest moment of need, when I actually had to ask for help, I was warned that they weren't allowed to take care of the baby. A steward reluctantly sat with my son while I ducked into the plane's tiny washroom to change my sopping wet clothes after baby's razor-sharp tooth burst through the water bottle he'd been gumming and somehow managed to empty within one second all over me; I was as suddenly and thoroughly soaked as I would have been in a dunk tank.

I think I know what Baby's Secret Weapon is!

A Nanny Update

Today was day two with our new nanny, and I will here (apprehensively) say everything's going really well so far. (Am a little shell-shocked and have lost faith in my ability to judge character; am resolved to from now on reserve all judgement until a good chunk of time has elapsed.)

The last nanny went out with a bang and that's all I'm going to say about that.

Autumn in Istanbul

It's September 1st, the day I start looking for autumn each year. And this year, I've found it!

I woke up this morning, thinking Baby was up way too early, and was surprised to see it was almost 7! The blue summer sky we've been enjoying is covered with grey clouds and there's rain in the air. Baby and I went out for a walk, but I backtracked and got him a sweater, so nippy was it out!

Perfect.

I'm sure it's scorching hot and sunny in Adana.

Adventures in Nanny Searching

I assume any nanny can change and feed a baby; the challenge is finding someone whose personality doesn't offend me. For long before a nanny's character flaws will influence my son, she will start to drive me crazy.

Here are just a few of the unbelievable things our new nanny did in her first three days:

• She emptied out the fridge -- but only of my favourite things; this included an unopened box of Stroopwafels we'd picked up in Amsterdam.
• She started taking the multivitamins I'd brought back from Canada, since good quality ones are hard to find here and expensive. (And in case there's any doubt in your mind right now, she told me, in her off-handed way, that she'd started taking them.)
• While it is standard for employers in Turkey to provide lunch, Nanny is also preparing herself breakfasts.
• Nanny throws her laundry in my laundry hamper at the end of each workday so I can wash it for her. And while presumably her previous employer offered her this convenience, I never have, nor has she ever mentioned it.
• She suggested I tell our agent I'd decreased her hours and therefore her pay, so that I could save a few hundred dollars in commission fees; she reassurs me she'll corroborate my story. (Oops, sorry -- that was on day four, the penultimate day, of her employment).
• After proving herself a real shark during salary negotiations and at one point even saying she wasn't interested in the job after all because it was a little far from her home, she's since revealed that a) she actually lives quite nearby; b) that she enjoys luxury haircare products; and c) that her husband's upper level management position pays 2500TL a month. A fortune in this country.

Needless to say, I've resumed my nanny search and am hoping to replace her as soon as possible.

A Visitor at Home

It's nothing new for an expat to feel she no longer fits in at home, that her adopted country has changed her; I've felt the change slowly happening over the past four years.

My first visit home, four months after moving here, I over-identified with everything Canadian; ditto the following year. But at one point, I started to see things I'd never noticed before -- how cold Torontonians are compared to Turkish people, or how stingy they appear compared to Turks.

And then I started forgetting to re-adapt on trips back to Canada, standing too close to the person ahead of me at the bank machine, or rushing to get onto a bus instead of patiently hanging back until everyone else had gotten on.

But this summer I was truly amazed at the 'Turkishness' of my cultural observations:

• I couldn't get over how dog crazy everyone was, and found myself slightly appalled at the sight of dogs on furniture (note: I used to have 2 Labs who slept with me on more than one occasion -- no judgement, dear Canadian friends!);
• I couldn't keep up with everyone's punctuality, nor did I understand their impatience when dinner wasn't ready before 8pm;
• I was surprised by the casualness of men's and the skimpiness of women's summer attire!

As lovely as it was to be 'home' again, I seem to have lost the ability to just step off the plane and right back into the culture I grew up in; it seems if I ever move back to Toronto, I'd have to go through a process of acclimatization not unlike what I went through when I moved to Turkey.