tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post488547383860812033..comments2024-01-15T21:30:40.609+03:00Comments on Istanbul's Stranger: ForeignerStrangerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09933997864575809110noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-1380322179338176732008-02-27T21:03:00.000+02:002008-02-27T21:03:00.000+02:00Well said!Now I'm waiting for the anonymous Turk w...Well said!<BR/><BR/>Now I'm waiting for the anonymous Turk who commented one time to take umbrage about the camels.<BR/><BR/>That wouldn't be at all predictable...Strangerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09933997864575809110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-64380597405157070472008-02-27T02:56:00.000+02:002008-02-27T02:56:00.000+02:00I do not know how you young women stand this day i...I do not know how you young women stand this day in and day out. You are like camels in the Sierras. No matter what someone puts on you--saddles, halters, whatever--you will still be camels and only have other camels to look for and speak camelese to, and if you try to moo or neigh, it will peel forth as a bifurcated camel honk as far as the livestock is concerned, and for all that, you will still be in the Sierras for the forseeable future. <BR/><BR/>This is not about the Turks per se, although I've never been in a country where no one, NO ONE, might imagine that such radical notions as sensitivities and pride of other-culture might exist. I can't imagine an American in downtown Portland, for example, devaluing someone publicly for his/her foreignness, for not thinking that this Botswanan might like to try the pumpkin soup at the place down the street or that this Dane might want a bit of herring. But ask a Turk about tortilla soup or pot roast and he'll not only think you're nuts, but he'll tell you you are, but maybe it's good with enough raki.<BR/><BR/>No, it's not about the Turks, it's about you guys. Kristen referred to the small pleasure of a bit of anonymity or the respect for a moment of personal space. For you, it's the opposite, because that bit of space walls you in rather than the other way around, and worse, you have no power mitigate it, let alone stop it. It's a version of the old argument: In Turkey, no one wants what he can't have, and anyone violating this dictum is weird.<BR/><BR/>Or foreign.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-85648581154200071682008-02-21T15:33:00.000+02:002008-02-21T15:33:00.000+02:00I'm so glad to see all these folks in the same boa...I'm so glad to see all these folks in the same boat have found my blog, and that there're trhings here you relate to.<BR/><BR/>Plus, it's just the kick in the butt I need to post more regularly!<BR/><BR/>Thanks, everyone.Strangerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09933997864575809110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-17055408441919815752008-02-20T18:02:00.000+02:002008-02-20T18:02:00.000+02:00Hi there - I came across your blog today. I too a...Hi there - I came across your blog today. I too am an ex-pat of the Blighty varity and as another commentor stated, you have hit the nail on the head. I loved your 15 Feb posting and will return for more. I have felt at one time or another and still continue to do so, all the things you listed. <BR/>Great writing, great reading...<BR/>Thanks Stranger.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-77544429928623948832008-02-19T11:42:00.000+02:002008-02-19T11:42:00.000+02:00Siobhan is absolutely right, that having friends i...Siobhan is absolutely right, that having friends in the same situation makes a huge difference. My weekly play group keeps me sane too, especially as some of the other moms are really rooted here, and are past thinking about when they'll go 'home,' but still quite understand what it feels like to be in a relatively new marriage with a Turk, with a baby, trying to find a place here.<BR/><BR/>I'm lucky with the 'hospitality' thing-- BE's relatives live kind of far away to just drop in. I've also always been very clear that this is not welcome,and I think this is something his relatives hold against me. I can't really disagree with describing a lot of people here as self-centered (a dear friend once used the slightly more diplomatic and much more apt 'lacking in empathy,' which applies to a lot more than unannounced sleepovers). Perhaps we can qualify this by saying these desciptions aren't absolutes, but merely what pops to mind when we compare with what we're used to. I wonder what Turks abroad call us when they find we don't care for the big-family drop-in?<BR/><BR/>And Anonymous 2, congrats on your pregnancy! After the baby came, my husband certainly became more understanding/accepting that our family would always be different-- he was kind of resisting before that, and a little bit trying to push me to be what he thought of as 'normal.' I think now he kind of enjoys the possibility of not forever thinking of himself as under his parents' manus, but instead becoming an independent grown-up (not an easy task here, especially for the oldest male child of a Turkish family!). <BR/><BR/>But again, his parents hold his new assertiveness against me. I often wonder how much they regret their decision to allow this marriage. I think they perceived me as pliable and childlike because of my limited communication skills (my Turkish was next to nothing when we got married), and now they're catching on that I'm an intelligent, capable, and independent adult, and I don't think they care for it! Also, I think they expected more control in raising my child, so I've been very clear from day one what their limits are, even before day one, when we didn't accept the name they told us to give him. It helped that MIL was ill the week he was born, and so had to keep her distance, and also that he was a nursing fool, requiring him to be attached to me like 16 hours a day. I recommend on-demand BFing to any foreign gelin!<BR/><BR/>I get the dread about raising a Turkish-foreign child. Before LE was born, I hoped he'd be on the darker side so he won't have to be asked 'Where are you from?' every day of his life. If we return to the US, I expect it'll be hard the other way, that he won't be considered exotic or special anymore.Strangerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09933997864575809110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-25801537508318729152008-02-18T13:04:00.000+02:002008-02-18T13:04:00.000+02:00I've been lurking for awhile (found you via ESL ca...I've been lurking for awhile (found you via ESL cafe etc). Once again you hit the nail on the head with the reality of living here. What you've written is expresses what I feel on a regular basis. I'm pregnant with our first now and although I'm looking forward to having a child I'm dreading dealing with everything that comes with it - raising a Turkish-foreign child here in Turkey.<BR/>I have often thought about if it's possible to "become Turkish." I think the conclusion we all come to is no. In other societies, though, it is possible to become much more of the society. I felt more "latin" when I lived in Latin America than I ever have felt here. <BR/>I'm wondering how many of us have been able to get our DHs to understand our reality. Mine slowly sees that our family will be different, but I'm not sure he sees that we'll always be foreign yet.<BR/>Thanks again for writing another great reflection on life here!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-69334573543907964782008-02-17T20:44:00.000+02:002008-02-17T20:44:00.000+02:00When I first came to Turkey I spent a great deal o...When I first came to Turkey I spent a great deal of time with other English teachers (foreigners). Then because of work I spent a few years where most of my friends were Turkish. Since D was born I've started to seek out people like me, who are married into the culture and have kids. People like this know where you're coming from and I have to admit to being a great deal happier since making a few good friends like this. As long as I see them at least once a week I find it helps me keep sane. The problem is that after being in Turkey for so long, while not fully assilmilated, I have become bi-cultural. I have similar problems when I'm at home because so much of what has become normal for me is foreign to people back home.siobhanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01230841810118051830noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-70243849580811968582008-02-17T19:49:00.000+02:002008-02-17T19:49:00.000+02:00I can relate to every word in the blog and Kristen...I can relate to every word in the blog and Kristen's comment. I am married to a Turk but am not a mother. I thought when I first came that the foreign feeling would wear off but it never does.<BR/><BR/>I think the hospitality culture is the hardest to adapt to - the fact that no one respects anyone's time. If we go to visit relatives in my very short holidays they don't understand that I would like to sightsee but keep us almost prisoner in their homes. When people come to us, it is at their convenience and even if they come from just up the road they always invite themselves to stay for the night, thereby necessitating the serving of breakfast etc.<BR/><BR/>In my darker moments I find Turks very self-centred but it is only that what is considered 'kind' is different in Western, individualistic cultures.<BR/><BR/>I often think I should try harder with my Turkish so that I could express myself better, then I realise that even if I could articulate my every thought and wish, no one would actually understand me even if they listened!<BR/><BR/>Anyway good luck in this foreign land......Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-85369467891019884692008-02-17T19:32:00.000+02:002008-02-17T19:32:00.000+02:00Kristen, don't forget you're brave too! I don't fe...Kristen, don't forget you're brave too! I don't feel very brave. I did at first, but it's worn off. Still, it's nice to hear. Manoranjan makes a good point about glorifying cultural differences. It's very true, and I think there was a time when I was much better at doing this.<BR/><BR/>Being told what language to speak in your own home by a guest is indeed outrageous, even if it's a grandma. Sometimes I get it, that another language just comes as noise to someone who doesn't speak it, other times I wish they would try to be half as respectful as I try to be. I speak English to my son too, and I'm sick of people telling me he won't learn Turkish. Do they really think I'll speak to him in my crap Turkish when no one else is around?<BR/><BR/>As for trying to plan times, it's one of my foreign habits that drives some people nuts. Yesterday my husband's mother hung up on him when he tried to find out when they were coming (so we could get in LE's nursing and nap and a bunch of other stuff so I'd be able to host as they expect, and he'd be able to amuse them, which is the only reason they come). It made her mad that we (meaning me) were so rude as to not want guests whenever it suited them to turn up.<BR/><BR/>I'm glad you're reading! And I'm impressed Kristen's boy lets her type with him on her lap.Strangerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09933997864575809110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-12412169782463121612008-02-17T17:46:00.000+02:002008-02-17T17:46:00.000+02:00I hope you start to feel at home here though it is...I hope you start to feel at home here though it is not easy to accept cultural differences unless one glorifies them.rooted in my village - manoranjan dhaliwalhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00706287697067450548noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2799914692887174209.post-76028259077493579772008-02-17T10:54:00.000+02:002008-02-17T10:54:00.000+02:00No one wants to feel like a foreigner for too long...No one wants to feel like a foreigner for too long. When I found your blog this week a weight lifted. I've laughed and been moved to chills or tears. LE is absolutely precious. I live in Istanbul with a 9.5 mo old baby boy. I married a Turkish man a few years ago. I miss my family and my mom and US culture house pets an affordable shot of tequila personal space and anonymity in public. you are brave. i'm typing with one hand while holding my son who staring wide eyed at the snow. seems he'll bliss out with it if he's in my lap.<BR/>my husband's best friend brought his whole family to our home last sunday. He called at 8:30 am to ask to come. I work on deadline from noon to 6 each sunday. two small children and his mother. and his wife. I told them to come early. his wife was sleepy and hadn't prepared breakfast, he told me. I said please come before 11. They showed up at noon, her hair fresh from coiffeur, the favorite haunt of turkish women. I take five-min breaks every hour to hold my son and remind him who gave birth to him. and laugh if possible. We speak english, he and I. Our friends, who I was so happy to see, also speak comfortable english. The grandmother, however does not, and had it fixed in her head that I was upsetting the children by speaking english. she implores me, more than twice, to speak turkish. I speak with her grandkids in Turkish whenever we see them and they know me - in my faulty Turkish. Finally I laughed and said my kid and I would gladly induct them into the world of "foreign tongue" yabanci diller, as every child should be so lucky as to hear foreign languages. <BR/>The notion that children dominate the scene to the degree that the host would upset them in her - and her baby's - language is outrageous. and i spent the next breaks cleaning up after them while my son listened to the cacophony of three generations of turkish from his blow-up simit on the floor. of his house. <BR/>be well, I'm sure glad you're here. my hand has worn out.Kristen Stevenshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16205199418929672113noreply@blogger.com