That's Nobody's Business But The Turks

Well, here I am. Finally back from Istanbul, and man was it a rush. I am already missing the tea and OJ they had there, along with a whole host of foods and desserts. The architecture was amazing, the weather was awesome, and in times were just awesome all around. In order to spare you a lengthy recount of my adventures, I'll let my pictures speak for me, for the most part:

















As you can see, from the outside alone it's all pretty breathtaking. I spent quite a while inside the Hagia Sofia, and took probably more pictures than I should have:
















































After that, I headed to the Blue Mosque with Day (my friend in the purple dress in one of those pictures up there) and her brother Lloyd, only to find ourselves shut out by the call to prayer - the Blue Mosque doesn't allow tourists during prayers, unlike some of the other mosques. So, instead, Lloyd (Day's brother) and I went to check out the Basilica Cistern, originally build by Emperor Constantine and rebuilt/enlarged by Justinian in 532:


















From there, it was back sun-side and over to the Blue Mosque for more pictures:
































After that, I went to the Grand Bazaar, where I got ripped off, and then to a Turkish bath, where I paid a heavyset, hirsute Turkish man to pound on me for about an hour. After spending far too much money, I felt squeaky clean and more relaxed than I'd been in months. Obviously, there is no photo evidence of this.








On Thursday (Day 2), I decided to check out the Archeological museum, but prior to that, I got distracted by the park on the grounds. The blobs in the one picture of trees are stork nests:














After that, I went into the museum, which included a museum of Ottoman tile art. Yes, that nice police officer in the last picture is carrying a submachine gun.















To round off the day, I went to the Spice Bazaar (also known as the Egyptian Bazaar), where I ended up buying almost a pound of various teas.







For a change of pace, on Friday, I decided to catch the boat to the island of Bosphorus, which is on the Asian side of the Strait of Istanbul. From the castle on top of it, you can even see the Black Sea on a clear day.
























Saturday was a short day, since I had to take a train home, but I still had time to see Dolmabahce palace, where the last Sultans of the Ottoman Empire lived, as well as Ataturk, the founder of the modern-day Republic of Turkey. "Opulent" and "decadent" are the words that come to my mind. There are three enormous crystal chandeliers, the lightest of which is 1 ton. The big one in the main reception hall is something like 4.5 tons. I'm not sure if it's short tons or metric tons, either.




















I ran out of space on my camera, or I'd have taken more pictures, but it's still quite a bit to check out. I had a great time, and I'm really really glad I went, for all that I spent too much money on things.

We'll Dig His Grave With A Silver Spade

Today was a mixed bag. So was the whole of this week, actually. On the upside, I got to talk about Robert Frost with my seniors today, and they actually participated in discussion and analysis of it, to my surprise and delight.

Which segues into the point of this entry. Robert Frost is probably my favorite poet, certainly of the early 20th century. T.S. Eliot is amazing, and e.e. cummings was groundbreaking, but there is something about Frost's work that really resonates with me. "The Road Not Taken" is the quintessential Fall poem, and the bittersweetness of it sets me thinking about life and all the myriad steps that lead up to the present moment. It's this sort of ode to the "What If" game, while at the same time, accepting the results from decisions made, without trying to return to a point in the past which is irrevocably lost.

At the same time, there's this guarded optimism about the choice made; the options have been weighed, everything considered, and a decision is reached. There's no real second-guessing, just this sense of "well, if I get the chance, I'll get back to this." Given my apparently congenital inability to let go of things, this is something to which I aspire.

I know you've all read the poem, but it bears posting, I think:

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Later, flipsiders.

Open Up A Can of Tomato Juice

Gather round, boys and girls, Uncle Alex has another fun story for you.

Last night, a bunch of Volunteers were in town for their mid-service conference. I had dinner with them, and afterwards, they invited me to come out and have a few drinks with them. I agreed, and so we headed out. We're drinking, being loud Americans, etc., and a former student of mine comes up to me, says hi.

Now, this would not be awkward, except there was a girl that came over with him to say "hi" as well. She introduced herself as the daughter of one of my colleagues. She then proceeded to hit on me. And then crossed the bar to do so a couple more times over the course of the evening.

Yeah, that was awkward.

I mean, as amusing as it is, I would rather prefer to avoid the "oh, by the way, I made out/slept with your daughter" awkwardness in the staffroom that that would entail, but that may just be me (assuming she's even over 18 in the first place).

Later, flipsiders.

I Know Where You Go When You Want To Fall

While traveling today, I happened to pass a field of sunflowers. Over the past few months, I've passed it many times. In the spring, when they were just emerging, in the summer, when they formed a joyous cacophony of yellow and now in fall, when they formed a darkening procession of mourners, lamenting the passing of life and time. In a few weeks, they will crumble to dust, leaving no trace of their existence until next spring, and their cycle begins anew.

The whole scene was obviously rather melancholy, with the skies supplying tears for the botanical funeral procession. It was also appropriate, I feel, since I have just completed what is most likely my last summer in Bulgaria. With nine and a half months to go before I have to resume the "normal" course of my life, it feels like I've entered a season of endings. There is still much to be done, though, and I'll doubtless be kept too busy to really dwell overmuch on this sort of thing. After all, I have to get everything in order for the life-reboot.

I suppose it's just one of those things that you have to occasionally step back and watch: the passage of time and your position in it. Much like the sunflowers, we have our own cyclical nature; birth, production, decay, gestation/reflection, repeat. While we may not be as punctual or predictable as they are, it's still worth bearing in mind.

Later, flipsiders.

If They Say "Take It And Like It," You'll Do It

The system worked as they said it would, and I have my schedule today. Unlike previous semesters, I have no days completely off. Schedule is as follows:

Monday
7:30-8:15 - IXa

Tuesday
7:30-9:10 - XIa
10:25-11:10 - VIIIb
11:20-13:00 - XIIb
13:10-13:55 - IXa

Wednesday
7:30-9:10 - XIIa

Thursday
7:30-10:05 - VIIIb
11:20-13:00 - XIb

Friday
7:30-9:10 - IXb
10:25-11:10 - XIIa
11:20-12:05 - VIIIb

As you can see, Tuesdays are going to be... less than fun. Having to wake up at 6:30 every day, on the one hand, will not be fun. On the other hand, having a regular wake-up time will probably be more conducive to long-term productivity. Only time will tell, I'm sure.

Later, flipsiders.

When I Find The Living A Bore, There's A Place I Go

Oh, hey. The LHC didn't kill us all. Nifty.

I Find My Way To Do That Same Old Jam

Wow. Less than a week to go before classes start again. Then, I will have most of a week of going through the same song and dance over and over again as I let returning students know about classroom policy changes and new students find out about who I am and what they can expect from me.

On tap for this year:
12a - Modern English Lit (4 hrs/week)
12b - Advanced/Superadvanced Grammar/Conversation (2 hrs/week)
11a - Intermediate Grammar/Conversation (2 hrs/week)
11b - Advanced Grammar/Conversation (2 hrs/week)
9a - Pre-Intermediate Grammar/Conversation (2 hrs/week)
9b - Intermediate Grammar/Conversation (2 hrs/week)
8b - Beginning Grammar/Conversation (5 hrs/week)

Hopefully, I'll have my actual teaching schedule tomorrow, but I wouldn't be entirely surprised if I had to wait until Thursday. Regardless, once class actually starts, I suspect things will be a whirlwind of activity that leaves me largely drained by the end of the day.

...Hey, it beats sitting around doing nothing. Also, once school starts, I'll have more crazy cross-cultural hijinks to share. Something to look forward to, to be certain.

Later, flipsiders.