Drama Drama Drama

Our arrival back in Malatya was stressful to say the least.  I received an email from Onder on Monday saying that despite our warnings, A kept (unknowingly) revealing himself to the neighbours.  This is not something you do in Turkey and they were terminating his contract.  I felt bad for him, but was also relieved he would be gone.  When A got home from work that day, he showed me the email he received from Mr. Yalcin (apparently it was beneath Onder to fire him himself) and so I helped him out a bit, emailing Mr. Yalcin and saying that he would leave but expected to be compensated.  There was much drama, as they initially refused to pay him- slowly relenting, but even then, unwilling to pay him the full amount he was due.  I told A to be firm, and he arranged a meeting with Onder for the next day at 6pm and asked me if I would sit in on the meeting, which I agreed to.  Tuesday rolled around, bringing many classes for me (as I now had to cover A’s classes) that I had no time to prepare for- not my favourite way to teach, but alas.  I hung around the school when they finished and tried to figure out how to ‘apostille’ a document for my upcoming job in Kazakhstan.  I got Ali to call around Malatya, but learned they would only apostille it if it was translated into Turkish- which was of course no use to me.  I called the Canadian Embassy in Ankara, but as Canada is not a member of the Hague convention, they don’t apostille but rather use a different process, which I was unsure would work.  I emailed the school in Kazakhstan and awaited a response.

By about 5 o’clock, A showed up and we waited for Onder.  He showed up at 6 on the dot, and the two of us went into his office.  He asked me to leave, but I stood my ground and eventually he relented- very unhappy about it.  He yelled at A for a good fifteen minutes- repeating his infractions, informing us that the neighbour had pulled out a gun and threatened to kill him (apparently his wife stopped him), that the neighbours had instead called the police and signed a petition to get him out, occasionally lying a little, bringing up Joe and myself more frequently than I would have thought necessary, and being highly unprofessional about the entire situation.  Despite his temper, A did very well, barely speaking (he was barely given the opportunity to) and it ended uncomfortably with Onder giving him the full amount he was due, and then saying he never wanted to see him again.  He also told me that I was very impolite and that this was none of my business, to which I responded that it most certainly was my business as Onder had made it my business by telling me A was fired before a knew.  He said he would not make that mistake again, and I shrugged and left.  There was no use in explaining while he was this angry, but nothing he could threaten me with as I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Some of the mess- note the banana peel.

We made it home (A cursing him and saying he would “f**ing kill him,” to which I responded firmly that he most certainly would not.  I booked him a ticket on my credit card (as he had no way of getting a ticket), asked him to clean his room before he left, and telling him to be ready by 8am the next day so I could show him where the bus left from.  Joe was also not pleased, genuinely concerned by the knowledge that our neighbour had a gun and would shoot if offended, and resolved to mention this to Onder upon first sight.  I thought it best to avoid him for awhile, yet act as though nothing had happened.

Watermelon juice caked on the floor.

A was ready by 8:15 the next morning- his room uncleaned and disgusting, but I didn’t make a fuss, rather walked him out.   The security guard  politely addressed me as we left, asking me (in Turkish) if he was gone, to which I answered yes and that was the last we saw of him.  Joe, true to his word, brought up the neighbour to Onder, who responded that the neighbours had no problem with us and that everything was fine.  Later on in the day, we both stopped in to talk to him.  He again said that he had been surprised by my behaviour, but as he was now calm, I informed him that I had done him many favours.  I had a key made, the sheets washed, the room cleaned, put money on the bus card, showed him around town and explained the teaching style at the school, all for the school and A’s comfort.  That Joe and I were equally displeased by the situation, but as we had had to live with him, we didn’t understand why he was more upset than us.    That after all those favours, when A asked me to do him one (so he wouldn’t lose his temper) I obliged, and that while I hadn’t meant to offend him, I wouldn’t have changed my actions.  Onder both thanked me and apologized (both shocked me beyond words) and all was back to normal.

He offered to have Dogan and Wakas (whose name he forget, pissing off both Joe and I, as Wakas has been their errand man for three years) to help me clean, but the thought of having two men in their fifties scrubbing my floors while I watched sickened me, and I declined saying I would buy some beer and do it myself.

Thursday, I did just that- finishing my classes and scrubbing floor, washing sheets, and wiping the muddy footprints off the floor (only just realizing that they were urine infused as he didn’t wear the special shoes when he used the squat toilet) and a good three hours later, managed to make the house liveable again.  Yasar (a lovely boss) didn’t need to be asked, simply arranged for all our carpets to be washed professionally (which I am currently waiting for their pick up as I type this). 

In regards to the apostille, upon calling companies in the UK (they won’t do it) BC (they charge $850 which was a stressful number) and a company in Ottawa ($250), I have sent off my documents (with the lovely help of Dogan who accompanied me to the post office- it is easier to understand him as he uses simple language for me and most Turks don’t know how to talk to foreigners, yelling at them rather than simplifying their speech) and eagerly await the next step in the process.  A long week.

A Quick Trip to Trabzon Pt. 2

Uzungol- which translates to Long Lake- is about 100km south of Trabzon.  We awoke and went for our complimentary breakfast (which was actually quite good) and then relaxed, read and waited for our tour van to show up at 10am. 

Uzungol

  We stopped at a few hotels to pick up some Dutch and Turkish tourists and we were off.  First was a quick stop at a tea factory (the Black Sea region is famous for their tea, and indeed it was delicious) and small talk with the Dutch tourists (a family working in Ankara, and an older couple cycling their way through Greece and Turkey) before heading on.  Uzungol is famous for its natural beauty- the lake was created by a landslide and has recently become very popular with tourists, causing hotels and souvenir shops to pop up everywhere.  We hadn’t expected it to be so cold- the mist and overcast sky (eventually turning into rain in the afternoon) made for a beautiful atmosphere, but both Joe and I wish we had brought warmer clothes yet agreeing it was a nice change not to sweat.  We had lunch, and strolled pleasantly around the lake, popping in some shops and eventually having a nice warming cup of tea before the tour ended.

By the time we had driven back to Trabzon, the sun was shining and the temperature contrast was a pleasant shock.  We decided to go to the pub, but alas it was closed, so we went for a walk along the shoreline, picking up beer and lahmacun for the hotel room.

Friday shone beautifully again, and Joe and I grabbed breakfast and packed before playing backgammon and heading off to Sumela.  The Sumela Monastery is a Greek Orthodox monastery, first founded in AD386, but not gaining its present form until the 13^th century.  It is nestled in a steep cliff at an altitude of 1,200 metres facing the Altndere valley.  Even despite its fascinating history, it is a stunning sight and the most popular tourist destination near Trabzon.  

We picked up the rest of our tour group and headed into the mountains.  Once again it was quite cold, but fortunately we had come prepared this time.  We drove up a winding road (extremely thankful we weren’t walking) and got dropped off a short distance from the monastery.  We walked along with the throngs of tourists (this is really the first time we have travelled Turkey at the height of tourist season and it was a very different experience- not one we particularly enjoyed.  That being said- hoards of people aside- it was amazing to see, to try and think of how they managed to build it and get the supplies up there in the first place, or to think of how they decided that this would be the spot to build.  

Anyways, we wandered around for about an hour and then walked the 1.2km back down the mountain (again- extremely thankful we didn’t have to walk up, as we saw many people doing it and it looked tedious).  We stopped for lunch and then made small talk with the others on our tour- an Australian couple, a French girl and a girl from Hong Kong- all were pleasant enough although the French girl was pissed that she had to walk down- she has bad knees.

We rode back into town, picked up our stuff and made our way over to the bus station to catch our final long haul bus in Turkey back to Malatya.

A Quick Trip to Trabzon Pt. 1

On Tuesday night, Gungor took us for tea with his nephew.  His nephew is looking to study in Ireland in September to improve his English so we were there to help.  He took us to a beautiful café in Gunduzbey- stone walls, tunnels and bridges and the like.  It looked very authentically Turkish (unfortunately I don’t have pictures) and Gungor is an excellent conversationalist so we had a thoroughly enjoyable evening- even though it concluded quite late.  We had already packed, so the next morning, I finished cleaning and wrote A a note about making sure he remembered to turn everything off and to let him know that he needed to keep the house clean, and his clothes on.  I stuck it to his door, so we will see what happens.

Back to the sea

The day passed uneventfully, busily as Onder had received a phone call from security (apparently the naked incidences hadn’t stopped) and I had a job interview, but eventually the day ended, and Joe and I went for a couple of beers to kill time before our bus and we were off.  The trip passed uneventfully, dozing on and off, making faces at the baby in front of us, and being awoken suddenly to find the brakes slamming and cows frantically running out of the way.  As unpleasant a wake up as that was, Joe and I agreed that it was better than actually hitting them.

Bus views

We made it to Trabzon by about 9am, found a dolmus (mini bus) that took us to the hotel and chatted with the owner and they let us in early.  We had decided to go to Sumela Monastery the next day, so we booked our tour and then showered and went to find something to eat.  We wandered through the market and the square, and finally found a restaurant that was suitable- this was still a bit tricky as it was the final day of fasting, but we prevailed.  We left and wandered for a long while to the Hagia Sophia museum- a mini version of the original in Istanbul and it was pretty good, very beautifully maintained overlooking the sea.  Like its namesake it was also a church before it was a mosque, and the depiction of culture preserved in its walls was fascinating. 

Trabzon Aya Sofia

We were completely knackered by the time we got back (buses are not my favourite place to sleep), so we napped, and then I went to the Haman as I absolutely adore Turkish baths, and  I passed a blissful hour being exfoliating, massaged and cleansed.  When I returned to the hotel, the receptionist stopped me and told me that Sumela was closed the next day- due to Ramadhan finishing- so I talked to Joe and we decided to do it the day after, and go to Uzungol instead.  We found dinner and then called it a day.

Birthday Greetings

It has been the busiest couple of weeks we have had in Malatya since just after we arrived.  With the new teacher’s arrival, Onder decided to give us four hours a week with each class in contrast to the one or two hours we would normally get.  He handed out a schedule late one evening, and Joe and I looked at it and vittoed it.  Fortunately we were at home so that was an option, but the next day I went into work and talked to Isilay and Gungor and politely led them to the conclusion that it was terribly planned, and then offered to see if I could make a better one.  It took me 40min (during an empty period I happened to have that day) but I did indeed come up with a better one.  Gungor suggested we lie to Onder and say Isilay made it, but by Sunday night it was approved and we are now two weeks into everyone being a little bit happier. 

Joe bowling

My birthday came and went, fairly uneventfully.  As we were both working all day, Joe had taken me bowling the day before (I destroyed him) and then the day of, he awoke nice and early to make me a breakfast omelette, and then I came into work for a class.  Since it is still Ramadhan, I couldn’t bring in a cake or anything of the like, but everyone warmly wished me a happy birthday, and then Joe took me for lunch, and then to the pub after work, so all in all it was a lovely day.  It was topped off perfectly when we got home, and I had a shower.  Just as I was getting out, the doorbell rang.  Now this is a rare occurrence and it had never occurred that late at night before, but since I was not properly attired, Joe put on his housecoat, and he and A (the new teacher) got to the door about the same time.  30 seconds later, Joe was cackling in the hallway and I was thoroughly confused as to what had happened.  Apparently our neighbours across the way had been on their balcony and A- perhaps unused to neighbours, perhaps oblivious- had been wearing his birthday suit with the blinds open.   The security guard had come up, walked straight into A’s room and pulled the blinds closed, leaving A decently embarrassed and Joe and the security guard in stiches.  I found some thicker curtains while I was cleaning the next day, so I washed them and gave them to him so that it wouldn’t happen again.

My delicious birthday omlette

I had another surprise on Thursday when I went to see Buglem.  She has been a right little bundle of emotions the past few weeks (whether or not this is because of Ramadhan, or her age, or other unknown factors, I am not entirely sure) making her very difficult to deal with, and very prone to bursting into tears.  Kubra spent the afternoon with us (as that occasionally helps) and then told me they were going on holiday to visit Ali’s parents for Bayram (Eid-al-Fitr) and then to the sea, and they would be gone for about a month.  It was pleasant, they gave me a present (a little silver dish I have no idea what I am going to do with) and then Ali drove me home. 

Buglem and me

As Ramadhan nears it’s conclusion- this is the holiest day, as it is apparently the day the Koran descended from heaven (or something along those lines) which means the mosque will unhappily be going off pretty much all night) but then Joe and I leave Wednesday night for Trabzon, although I am not looking forward to it as much as I was because I am a little worried A is going to burn the house down (he occasionally forgets to turn off the elements when he is done cooking)  or do something equally as stupid like leave his key in the door (this has happened multiple times) and get us robbed.  But alas, there is nothing I can do about that and I am certainly not staying in Malatya for four days so what will be will be.

Canadian Abroad

 Most of the time I love travelling as a Canadian.  We are generally well liked around the world, have a good reputation for being kind and polite, and enjoy living up to these expectations.  There are times, however when it is a righteous pain in the ass.  Those times include moments when I meet a Canadian who I don’t feel are giving us a good name abroad (like my ex-coworker from the Japanese school), or when I find that I don’t want to live up to these expectations.  This new guy is testing my patience.  We got that he was a little odd right from the beginning- that was obvious, but we have lived with odd, oblivious people before, so that’s not the end of the world.  He seemed okay, a bit absent-minded, but we showed him around a bit, and wrote him a note on how to get into town, we got him a bottle of wine, and managed to chat with him a bit that night.  The next day he was frantically trying to find a Western Union, as his wallet had been stolen in Manchester and he had no cash, but instead of asking he disappeared.  By the time we found him one, it turned out he needed a MoneyGram, so Joe and I located one, but by then, he had once again disappeared.  We were supposed to meet Eser at the pub, and so I went ahead, and Joe waited at the school for half an hour.  When he didn’t show, we got Isilay to call us when he arrived and Joe came along.  We found him an hour or so later, and he came around to the pub and we had a good time.

              

Some of the appetizers- already overflowing the table before the main meal arrived

               The next day the garbage was overflowing and there was watermelon juice all over the floor.  I was pissed, but I cleaned it up, figuring I would give him a day or two to settle in.  The next day, three of our four plates were missing- two in his room, one with his leftover dinner on it, and more watermelon juice all over the floor.  Seething, I went for work, leaving Joe to deal with it.  He spoke to him, asked him to be more careful with the watermelon, and he apologized profusely (I genuinely don’t think he knew he left juice all over the floor) and ‘mopped’ a section of the floor, leaving the mop in the middle of the floor and the rest of the kitchen untouched.  The floor was still sticky, but I had been planning to clean that day anyways, so I let it go.  He had gone out by then, and I cleaned and Joe and I hung out. Just before we went to get dinner, I looked in the bathroom, and there was brown stuff all over  the floor and the sink.  All over.  It took me a minute to clue into what it was, but eventually I realized it was hair dye.  So, resigned slightly to the fact that we are living with the most obtuse individual I have ever had the misfortune to meet, I knocked and asked him if he had dyed his hair.  He answered, yes, why, to which I retorted that there was hair dye all over the bathroom.  He cleaned up most of it (although I think he used the kitchen sponge to do it) and not wanting to knock AGAIN, I let it go. I am trying to maintain my Canadian composure but he is wearing me down thin and at some point that politeness may deplete pretty rapidly if he doesn’t learn how to think.

a delicious Turkish coffee out with friends.

              

           In other Malatya news, not much is happening.  I had a lovely ‘iftar’ (evening break-fast) with the girls from work, and even though I had been eating and drinking normally all day, watching people who haven’t drank all day, sit there with twenty minutes to go and a glass of water in front of them, makes you very thirsty.  According to most people, it’s the most difficult part of the day.  The food was delicious though, and the company a lot of fun, and all in all it was a good day out.  Buglem also seems to be quite aggravated over the fasting.  I don’t know if perhaps the adults in her life are a little shorter-tempered with her, or if she just doesn’t understand why people aren’t eating, but she has been having a daily meltdown the past couple of weeks- which is not a lot of fun for me, and I can’t imagine it is a lot of fun for Kubra either.  I am hoping she will be ok, as we are starting week 3 tomorrow, but I’m not counting on it.

Some of us girls out for dinner.

On a happy Canada Day note, I leave you with my final Canadian story of the week.  One of my students has been trying to add me on facebook, but as she is twelve, I don’t feel that is appropriate.  She seemed to understand, but continues to message me daily.  Yesterday she messaged me, “Can I you a question?”  I answered, “Yes, of course.”  “Where are you from?” She inquired.  “Canada,” I responded. “That’s my favourite city or country.” She responded.  I didn’t respond to her, as I laughed to myself, pleased she couldn’t see me laugh.  It was a sweet answer as she clearly has no idea where Canada is or what Canada is, but it was sweet none the less.