Reading - an Update

Am having mixed feelings about the book of Pamuk's essays ... don't know how much further I'll push on.

Other Colors: Essays and a Story

I've just ordered books by several of who may very well turn out to be among my new favourite writers. Earlier this year I took a creative non-fiction writing course with Liz Boltz Ranfeld, who introduced me to several marvelous authors. Hungry for more of their work, I've been carrying their names with me on a list for months now, and finally got around to buying their books last week.

I think I'll keep their names a secret for now, posting about them one by one as I read them. In the meantime, I'll tell you how excited I am to have gotten my hands on a collection of essays by Orhan Pamuk. Controversial in Turkey and perhaps therefore so well-known in other countries, I'll admit I've left more of his novels unfinished than finished. But the ones I loved, I really loved; and I'm always a sucker for the essays of novelists.

I found out about "Other Colors: Essays and a Story" by accident about a month ago, and was delighted to learn that the school where I work has it in its library. I was even more thrilled to discover how FAT it is when I picked it up today. Turning from the table of contents to get to the first page, I was surprised to find two and a half more pages of table of contents!

I just hope that this book won't end up as so many Pamuk books before it -- abandoned.

It's that time of year again ...

NaNoWriMo is back! And even though I don't have nearly the time I did living in Tarsus, where my hobbies were vital to my mental well-being, I am determined to do it again -- I will write a 50,000-word novel in thirty days.

And while I may have more distractions here in Istanbul, I also have loads of cafes in which to write, writing buddies galore, and inspiration everywhere I look!

Let's just hope the nine-day holiday in the middle of the month helps rather than hurts me!

Semantics

To pick up on my recent post about cross-cultural linguistic misinterpretations, I'd like to share with you one of the many puzzles I cannot solve. Perhaps I'll start a semantics series ...

But in the meantime, I'd love to get to the bottom of why Turkish fathers call their babies "daddy" and Turkish mothers call their daughters "mummy?" Used as a term of endearment similar to sweetheart or honey, I once asked my husband why on earth babacığım and anneciğim are so commonly used? He admitted to being as baffled as I, and we agreed on the spot never to use either term with our own children.

Of course, he now often addresses Baby as baba, and when I remind him of his promise and point out the ridiculousness of it, he just shrugs.

Musings ...

Image via WikipediaThis is probably the closest I'll ever come to writing about politics, so bear with me.

The other day, after taking my nanny, who happens to wear a headscarf, to an informal afternoon school function, she asked me whether I thought she'd made anyone uncomfortable with her headscarf. Her question was beside the point, as I realized that she herself had been uncomfortable as the only covered woman.

The irony wasn't lost on me -- walking around Istanbul in my t-shirt and jeans and my long hair blowing in the wind, I often feel slightly uneasy, as if I'm being judged by the covered women I see around me. Am I just imagining scowls of disapproval? In my mind, they're holding their breath for the day when all women in Turkey will by law be required to hide their hair under headscarves and cover their arms and legs.

The reasonable part of my brain tells me that's not at all how they feel; indeed, the covered women I've met have only ever been warm and friendly towards me. Yet I suspect this divide, based primarily on misunderstanding and lack of communication, exists not just in my mind, but in the minds of others as well.

I wonder if the two 'sides' spoke openly, whether we'd be able to trump any higher powers that might be pitting us against each other?

Why Less Can Be More

Back in Tarsus, spending a cozy evening at home in your pajamas with a glass of wine and a book was guilt-free. (Unless you were trying to cut back on your alcohol consumption, of course.) Here in Istanbul, nights in mean you're missing stuff out there.

But if you resolve, like I have, to make the most of the city and visit its museums, go to its concerts, explore its back streets and unique shops, eat its food ... Where do you start? The choices are unending, and one might easily become so overwhelmed that one does nothing.

Back in my former Toronto life, with so much at my finger tips, I admit I took the city for granted; I can count on one hand the times I visited a museum or art gallery, and tended to go to the same restaurants and cafes whenever I went out with friends. But nothing shakes you out of that better than four years in a provincial outpost!

The reality of my new Istanbul existence includes a full-time job and a family of three, and so I'm happy if I get out into the city once a week. As long as I do something fun and interesting in this incredible city each week, I don't feel guilty. Last weekend included brunch at a cafe on the Bosphorus with a group of ten interesting people; we walked forty minutes to and from the restaurant, thus getting a good dose of warm autumn sunshine (and a little rain!).

Lost in Translation

I'm sure we Canadians are guilty of it too -- what we call pizza is apparently nothing like the real Italian pie; and I have to assume that we are misusing some of the many foreign words in our English language.

But I've never been more aware of the way things get lost in translation as I am here in Turkey. I'll leave the linguistic examples for another day, but want to tell you about a new "valet" service now available in Istanbul. The advertisement caught my eye right away because of what it was 'selling' -- an alternative to drinking and driving. I get excited whenever I see social education programs here for things I grew up with as givens -- recycling and car seats for children being two examples dear to my heart. Although I have heard of many people lose their licenses for a year for drinking and driving, this was the first time I saw an attempt to tackle the problem closer to the root -- instead of punishing offenders, here was an attempt to prevent drunk driving. And I was thrilled.

The only puzzling thing is the way the ad opens: At last, the 'designated driver' system so popular in Europe and America is here. It then goes on to explain its service: Just call this number and one of our experienced chauffeurs will immediately hop on his collapsible scooter and come meet you; he will then drive you home in your own car.

Obviously, the 'designated driver' concept has been modified to suit Turkish party-goers, who are far more spontaneous than us North Americans; whereas we designate our drivers before starting to drink, here, there is an 'out' for anyone who suddenly finds themselves too drunk to drive home. I guess one needs to know one's clientele.