"Surprisingly Professional"

This title of this post refers to the name of my new band, which has existed for approximately 48 hours and some change, and will dissolve tomorrow upon my departure from the (surprisingly nice) city of Ankara.

I arrived Thursday night after a long, pleasant, tea-filled bus ride from Istanbul, during which time I had a lovely conversation with a Turkish woman who has lived in Istanbul most of her life, and works as an electrical engineer.  She was returning to Istanbul by train on sunday, and shared that she loves to sit on the train with a thermos of wine and look out the window for hours.  A woman after my own heart.

My connection to this city is a friend named Ryan, a man I had yet to meet but who came highly recommended to me by two of my favorite men, the Hunter brothers.  He came bounding out of the university dorms as I arrived at his place, lanky arms and all smiles, and yes, a friendship was instantly formed.  Ryan is teaching English for a private middle school and is one of dozens and dozens of native English speakers who were hired for one to two year contracts to teach in Ankara. Picture all of these young people, with an average age of 23, living in University dorms on a hill that overlooks the city and is about a 30 minute bus ride into downtown Ankara.  Frankly I have just walked into a vortex, one that is built of beer cans and stories about who hooked up with whom the night before.  It's a pretty hysterical scene, and a little exhausting, too.

Thursday evening was Thanksgiving part I, and consisted of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and lots of Whiskey.

Friday I spent the day in downtown Ankara, wandering around, eating roast lamb and vegetables for lunch, and drinking lots of coffee while reading my international spy thriller paperback.

That evening we went to a Turkish restaurant where they lay down a plastic sheet over your table, and throw down an OBSCENE amount of greens and tomatoes, sprinkled with lemon and olive oil, and you eat with your hands.  Then comes a tray loaded with kebab, bread, and fire roasted peppers and more tomatoes.  It was a lot of food to pack away, but it aided in soaking up the numerous liters of beer consumed by our group that evening.  At this particular bar you can order a "tower" of beer, which comes in a tall, clear glass cylinder with a spigot attached.  We sat downstairs in a packed pub with mostly Turkish patrons, listening to a wondeful guitar player singing acoustic, but very rockin, versions of contemporary songs.  Again, eveyone knows the words and routinely breaks out into spontaneous dancing, sometimes on the tabletop.

My thirst for guitar playing was quenched the next day, as we nursed our hangovers and sat around Ryan's apartment.  His next door neighbor Dan is a good ole' Northwest boy and recent Whitman grad, and between the two of them they have 2 guitars, 3 harmonicas, a tambourine, and a ukulele.  They were planning to play some tunes at Thansgiving part II, scheduled to happen that evening.  I quickly invited myself to join in, and the band was formed.

That evening we convened in the basement of a nearby dorm building, brought table and chairs down from various rooms, and lay out a decadent spread of homemade Thanksgiving fare on the pool table.  We had pumpkin pie, sweet potatoes, loads of chicken, gravy, sweet stewed carrots, and attempted stuffing.  For many of the teachers it was their first thanksgiving away from home, and quite a special night.  Following our food comas we set up shop near the end of one of the tables, and entertained roughly 25 or 30 people with a set list that included Johnny Cash, Old Crow Medicine Show, and Devendra Banhart.  After our first song a girl said cheerily, "you all sound surprisingly professional!" Thus greatness was born.

This event reminded me how much I value creating and being a part of these types of experiences- not everyone throws talent shows or shoots watermelons with spear guns or cooks giant waffle breakfasts for all their neighbors- all y'all out there in the Northwest are doin it right!

Sunday Ryan and I played soccer in the sand covered turf (strange set-up) near his apartment, and recorded Devendra Banhart's "At the Hop," in Dan's apartment.  I will be emailed a copy of this song soon, and will do my best to post it!

Tomorrow I leave Ankara for the wilds of Mediterranean Turkey, and though I am a wee bit reluctant to leave my makeshift home here, adventure calls!  I want to be a beardless Farley Mowat, writing books about strange Turkish birds and mountain villages.

Things I miss in Seattle: Kate's Pub Happy Hour, micro-brew, and seeing the mustaches being grown on the upper lips of many male friends and colleagues. If someone wants to make me a little collage of the handle-bar progress (Chad . . .) I will frame it on my wall when i get home.  Speaking of school, I have also been tickled by some of my old students excitement at gmail chatting with me, and asking lots of questions about when I will come back and hang out in their Improv class, and why the heck I am in Poland, or Turkey!  P.S. Some of these students, who will remain unnamed, chatted me the other week while IN CLASS! I told the ladies they should go back to work and could talk to me later, and they replied, "but we already finished all our goal setting!" Sneaky little buggers.

Three more weeks and the skyline of Seattle will be imminent on my horizon.  Prepare your couches for your dear departed friend, and I promise to entertain you with more stories from the Turkish travelin' road.

all the best,

Miss Lindsey