A Day in the Life

Alarm goes off at 7:45 a.m.  I check Gmail and Facebook on my laptop, and often times I get a quick chat in with some Oles who are still up doing homework.  It's a new day here, however, so I have to get ready for school.

I take a shower that's either too hot or too cold.  (Sorry-- I don't mean to sound like Goldie Locks.)  As I get dressed, I hear the daily metronome of "IYI... IYI... IYI..." (eee-yuh).  It's a man walking down the street selling a Turkish favorite called simit-- a circular piece of bread with sesame seeds on it-- from a tray balanced on top of his head.  "Iyi" means "fine" in Turkish.  I look out my window and see two Turkish flags blowing above a statue.  I can guess who it depicts; nine times out of ten the statues here are of Ataturk, the founder and first president of the Republic of Turkey.

We set off for school in groups.  On the way out we apologize to the Superdorm desk workers for our noise.  "Affedersiniz, Amerikaliyim!"  ("Sorry, I'm American!")  The walk takes about 25 minutes.  The first half of the walk is through our neighborhood (called Ucaksavar).  We pass by various vendors, some bakeries, cafes, and a bunch of dogs.  At some point Stumpy, a dog with a big Yellow Lab body but very short legs, meets up with us and walks us to class with his big curl of a tail in the air and his tongue hanging out of his mouth.  We're amazed he hasn't been hit by a car yet; we ourselves are in constant fear of being run over by the crazy taxi drivers or constantly-honking Turks.

We enter the gates of Bogazaci University, and walk down a long hill.  The view is surreal.  We see the Bosphorous, with a few boats cruising along.  It has a very beautiful ("cok guzel!") mix of buildings and trees lining the coasts on each side.

Every ten paces or so we pass a cat, who have each become familiar (whiskered) faces.  We take some winding paths through the dense thick of trees to arrive at the Ataturk Building, where our classes are held.  Like our President Washington, Ataturk is a popular name for streets, buildings, etc.  Our favorite cats meow at us from the benches they're lounging on, and a striped grey one named Alex tries his best to sneak into the classroom with us.

We've had class with four different professors so far.  The wisest and wittiest, of course, is Professor Ed Langerak from St. Olaf.  In his class we discuss religious toleration and individual freedom.  We've started reading the Qur'an, which I'm ashamed I haven't read before, and a book by Reza Aslan called "No god but God", which I highly recommend to anyone interested in learning more about Islam.  Our Bogazaci professors so far have been Professors Sevket Pamuk, Binnaz, and her husband Zafer.  All three are brilliant scholars.  The handsome Pamuk, whose brother won a literary Nobel Prize, taught us some broad Middle Eastern geography and history.  Binnaz is our expert on women's rights and secularism in Turkey.  She also gave us the kooky Turkish language lessons.  She's a controversial, liberal debater here in Turkey-- we realized her fame when a cab driver recognized the name on our way to her house.  Zafer gave us a very detailed history of the Ottoman Empire.  Turkish professors have a different pedagogy from most of our Olaf ones.  It's usually a constant stream of information, with little or no discussion, and us trying our hardest to keep our eyes open.  (Past TIMErs, you forgot to mention to us that we have class from nine to four every day!)

We grab lunch at the canteen and eat outside on a shady bench.  The view, again, is a spectacular panoramic of the Bosphorous.  Cats come by and pester us for food; we reward only the cutest or friendliest.  Around one o'clock we hear the harmony of call to prayers echoing across the water from all the mosques along the coast.  "Is this real life?" echoes across our bench.

After classes we might sit at a cafe and try to get some reading done.  (Socializing inevitably trumps studying.)  We are pretty good at becoming friends with our waiters and waitresses, and often times the restaurant owners as well!  (We're rewarded with free tea, or cay.)  To a certain extent we rely on our hands and their broken English, but our small knowledge of Turkish has been crucial in showing them that we're trying hard to communicate.

"So where should we go tonight?"  We rarely spend a night in the Superdorm.  It's off to Taksim, the party district, for some Efes and hookah, live music and meeting locals.  Or the Old City for some bazaar shopping.  We've also enjoyed various museums, from Turkish modern art to Ottoman archeology.  Dinners are a highlight of the night, as we often have to order a Turkish dish having no idea what it could be.  Usually it's a good surprise!

We get back to the Superdorm and squeeze in some necessary homework time.  We've had four tests in the past two weeks!  We're lucky to get in bed by 2 a.m.  The city sounds of dogs barking, cars honking, and wind blowing are no match for my heavy eyelids.

Siz seviyoruz! (We love you all!)
-Josef Lorentz and TIME 2010