So this will be my last post from Istanbul, and I should preface it by thanking all of you for taking an interest and actually taking the time to read this blog all summer. You all have actually kept me motivated to stay on top of keeping in touch, and I hope I’ve managed to keep you entertained or have made you want to come visit this city. It might sound corny, but this is a place that I’ve been able to call home without feeling like a tool. That’s saying something. Cincinnati, DC, and Istanbul. I haven’t gotten out much.
Last night we hit up the karaoke bar again, albeit with depleted numbers and that raincloud that is our flight out of here hanging over our heads. But despite all that, we managed to have a blast. We met up with Doruk again after being almost an hour late. We had hit up the DVD shop, where I bought Starship Troopers, The Fifth Element, The Lion King, and Chicken Run with Turkish dubbing. Come on, you apes, you wanna live forever? Kent, Tugçe, and I had some red wine (called Bull’s Blood) before we all took cabs to Taksim with Brad and Michelle. We went to Saray Muhallebicisi with Doruk for the last time, and Michelle and I split a slice of “pembe pastasi” (her words, not mine). It’s raspberry cake that has some pink frosting and a bit of heroin mixed in, it’s pretty fantastic.
We got to the karaoke bar after saying goodbye to Doruk, who is apparently going to see us at the airport tomorrow, and tried to get into the bar. We were stopped when Michelle realized she’d left her ID at the dorm, and the bouncer, possibly for the first time since we’ve gotten here, gave a shit. I told him she was my “abla,” or older sister/term of endearment for a girl older than you. I figured this would work since he had already seen that I’m twenty, so logically, she’d be older than me. Apparently not, as he said that the police could come and ask for IDs and if she didn’t have one the bar would get busted and she would go to a Turkish prison for the night. The manager of the club came out to talk to us, and told us the same thing in perfect English. She said that if we had an ID, any female ID, she could get in. We called Jill, who was partying elsewhere on Istiklal, and she hurried over and gave Michelle her swimming pool pass for Bogaziçi. It worked. Also, there is no cover charge on weeknights. We could have sung all night for free. I bought a beer because I almost felt guilty having so much fun for free.
We started shit off with Rock the Casbah, and we progressed to other stuff…including Bulls on Parade by Rage Against the Machine, which Brad and I totally rocked. I will start posting the photos ASAP. I accidentally chose the wrong Mexican song for Kent, and he and Brad ended up trying to sing “Bamboleo” by the Gypsy Kings, which was generally hilarious. There were some guys behind them singing along decently, so I asked him in Turkish if he knew Spanish, and he said in English “we are Italian!” So I said “Help them! Help!” They did, and it was really cool. Afterwards Brad spoke Portuguese with one of them.
An unforgettably hilarious event occurred shortly thereafter, when the bartender came out from behind the bar and handed Michelle a thick binder, like the other songbooks, but with one difference: it was full of Japanese, Mandarin, and Cantonese songs. When we realized what it was, we had to go set it down on the bar and lean on it to keep from falling over, we were laughing so hard. I dared her to sing one, but she “didn’t know the words.” As if that would stop a hero! I even offered to whine along rhythmically in fake tones and everything. No dice, maalesef.
Michelle and I wanted to get Kent something for his birthday, (which is Sunday, and is his 20th. My baby’s all growed up.) and Michelle suggested buying him one of the high-ball glasses from the bar. I asked the bartender if they were for sale, and he said no. I told him it was Kent’s birthday, and he went away for a second, and came back with not one, but two glasses, which he then set on the bar. Free. Michelle slipped him a 10 and I stored the glasses in my pocket and waited until after we left and were well out of sight of the bouncer to show him. Didn’t want to be accused of stealing.
By then our numbers had swollen up to six, and a cab driver offered to give us the day rate (at 2:30am). He then showed us the cab, and said he’d take all six of us for 25 YTL, which was a ripoff of biblical proportions. We got out of that dark alley quickly and soon found two younger cabbies who would give us the day rate. I rode with Brad and Michelle, and our driver was super cool and as soon as we started going, he said “Türk degilsin, galiba.” “You’re not a Turk, I believe.” We then proceeded to chat the entire way back, waving at the folks in the other cab as we half-raced to the campus. The driver asked me to call him to come pick us up to take us to the airport, and I told him it wasn’t necessary, and that I didn’t have a phone. He also wanted me to send his greetings to America, so, to the small part of America that reads this, there’s a young taksici in Istanbul who wants you to know he says “hi.” We paid exactly 10 YTL for the ride, which is actually cheaper than normally during the day, even. Is nice!
As for today, Friday, we all started the day very sleepy. The exam was in the same room we started the program in, and it was relatively easy. There was one tough passage about the Tanzimat, but it turned out alright, hopefully. It was hot as fuck in the room, though, even with two fans running. I felt so gross by the time I finished that I wanted to go change clothes, but then I remembered I didn’t have any clean shirts because I figured I’d do the laundry at home so that nobody messes them up and makes them smell like mildew. Again. After the test we sat around outside for about an hour and had baklava and chatted. At 11:30 they called us up to the classrooms where we spent another hour waiting to have our oral final exam/evaluation. I talked about going to the hamam with my testers. It was nice.
Afterwards we took the bus up the hill because Michelle’s knees hurt and then had lunch at Dürüm Evi one last time. Fatih Bey was sad that we had to leave, but we gave him our cell phone numbers and I know he’ll call us someday. Probably without considering the time difference. We took a group photo, and he wants a copy sent to him, which means it will likely end up on the wall of the restaurant, next to famous Turkish pop and movie stars. Pretty sweet. Of course, I’m blinking in the photo, so that sucks huge. We went home and got ourselves ready for the hamam/waited for Michelle to pack her shit up. Once she managed that we met up with Leanna and Tunaz and set out to the Çagaloglu Hamami, which was the same one we went to last time. It was nice, but way more crowded today. We had to wait 30 minutes for the pack of German tourists to leave so that we could go in. While waiting, we remembered something we’d taken for granted this summer: not having to be able to understand and listen to the stupid shit that most people talk about.
The hamam was wonderful. I am so relaxed, and I still have my farmer’s tan. I told my guy not to scrub my forearms because I’d worked all summer to get this tan. He laughed and said no problem. I got to translate for a Norwegian fellow and explain to him that our guy wanted a tip. It was fun. Anyway, we ended up meeting the girls in the lobby and then getting some orange juice (fresh) before Leanna and Tunaz left us. Michelle, Dane, and I headed to Taksim to meet Michelle’s TA from Austin, Öztürk, I think. He took us to a nice vegetarian restaurant in Taksim and the parted ways with us as I book-shopped (I got “The Pearl” by Steinbeck and “The Hobbit” by Jesus). I love the titles here, and seeing how they change due to the lack of definite articles.
Now I’m just packing up loose ends, talking to you folks, and trying to come to terms with the fact that I apparently give off a “gay poet weirdo” vibe. That is unfortunate, as I am neither a poet nor gay. But hey, at least there’s some feedback from my readership!
We caught the bus to campus tonight, but ended up being stuck in traffic for an hour because the Besiktas game let out and the streets were full of reeking shebab who would randomly burst into a song about their team. It was awesome. We met a guy on the bus named Ibrahim who spoke Chinese with Michelle. He’s studying in Taiwan. Very cool. We chatted for an hour, and gave him our emails. He’s already written to us. He was telling us about how he used to make his roommates eat cheese when they pissed him off, which is a big deal apparently because they’re really lactose intolerant there.
The bus stank something fierce by the time it was full, and the guys were just flapping that dank sweat smell everywhere. Gross gross. Now it’s just been awkward goodbyes that we sometimes follow with “see you around,” which will probably not be the case about 90% of the time. It’s weird. I will wax poetic tomorrow when I get home, but now I am tired because I have a 9am flight and a cab to catch at 5:00am. I love you all, and thanks again for making this best damn summer of my life. See you all very, very soon!
