turkish

Politely speaking

NOTE: This article was first published for “Today’s Zaman,” an English daily newspaper in Turkey.  View the article as it originally appeared here.

During my year in Turkey, I’ve tried to turn my Turkish from a “caveman dialect” where requests for bus tickets sound like, “Konya ticket need. Tomorrow, early day,” to something friendlier, like: “I’d like to go to Konya tomorrow, please. Is there a bus in the morning?” Working my way through that process has taught me a lot about the differences between English and Turkish etiquette.

My linguistic adventure began with the words “please” and “thank you” (in Turkish, “lütfen” and “teşekkür ederim”). In the US, they are my bread and butter words when it comes to politeness. At the dinner table, at work, at school — almost every request I make in English includes the word “please” and is usually followed up by “thank you.” So naturally, I made sure to memorize their Turkish counterparts and use them equally as often.

After hundreds of “lütfens” and “teşekkür ederims” to my host family and other Turkish friends, I got the sense I was not sounding natural. I asked my Turkish teacher and she explained that rather than using individual words, Turkish infers its politeness by formalizing its suffixes. Unlike English, Turkish words have multiple added-on endings (suffixes) that can tell the reader who is speaking, whether the word is a subject or an object, who is being addressed and formality, among other usages.

For example, “How are you?” in Turkish has a polite and less polite form. “Nasılsın?” is seen as the more informal version because it takes the “singular you” suffix while “Nasılsınız?” takes the “plural you” suffix, which is seen as the more formal and polite usage. Also, rather than using the word “please” for requests, Turks use the “Can I…” phrase (in Turkish, “… -bilir miyim?”).

As an English speaker, it took me a long time to think about it in this way. The other strange thing which I refuse to give in to is using “thank you” less. I’ve always been taught to say “thank you” even for services I’ve paid for, like a minibus trip downtown, a cashier at the market or for change at the bank.

A faculty colleague told me, “We don’t say ‘thank you’ for something that is someone’s duty.” For me, more is always better than less.

But for what Turkey lacks in “thank yous,” it has a wonderful tradition of polite phrases that my language lacks. Three of my favorites are “kolay gelsin,” “afiyet olsun” and “eline sağlık.” The first means “may your work come easy” and can be said to someone working. It can be used as a salutation or, as I love, when you’re just walking by. I once said it to a man painting the third story of a building on scaffolding; he nearly fell off shouting back, “thank you!” The other two are used during meals, with the first meaning “enjoy your meal” and the second “health to your hands,” usually said to the cook. At noon, my department’s hallways echo with a flutter of “afiyet olsuns” as everyone leaves for lunch, and we often exchange the phrase with each other right before eating, and sometimes even after. It’s a language trait I’ve really come to enjoy and will not be surprised if I say unconsciously at lunch with my American friends and colleagues.

Looking at the two languages, I don’t think English is “too polite.” But I don’t think Turkish is less polite either. Instead, my thought is that Turkish relies less on words for manners and more on actions and body language. Because once you’ve been invited in for tea and given a big two-cheek embrace, a thank you really is just words, isn’t it?

turkish

Why Kayseri?

“Why Kayseri?” is one of the most common questions asked to me by neighbors, students, and other Turkish friends, including residents of Kayseri.  With ocean front and cosmopolitan cities like Istanbul, Izmir, and Antalya, and even a bustling capital in Ankara, my students are always curious how I ended up in what many people view as a kind of no-man’s land.

The simplest and easiest answer to this question is, “It wasn’t my choice.  I chose Turkey, but not Kayseri.”

However, this comes off a little harsher than it should.  Although it’s true that I had no control over where I would be placed, I’ve enjoyed my year in one of Turkey’s fastest growing cities.

Kayseri, my home for nearly 8 months now, is located in practically the geographic center of Turkey.  It lies

between Turkey’s green, but bustling Western shores and the eastern wilderness beyond the mountains.   What was once a sleepy backwater of 65,000 in 1950 has grown into a city approaching one million.  Particularly since the Turkish government began opening up more opportunity’s for private companies in the 1980s, Kayseri now serves as one of the major industrial centers in Turkey.   Economists refer to Kayseri as one of Turkey’s “Anatolian Tigers”  continuing to provide a powerful surge to the Turkish economy.

The position as economic power player is not a strange one for Kayseri.  Kultepe, a 4,000-year-old settlement located next to Kayseri, served as one of the major commercial settlements of the Hittite empire.  Turkish historians have referred to the site as “one of the world’s first cities of free trade.”  Kayseri’s location also puts it right along the Silk Road.  For this reason, the city would remain an important one for the Byzantine Christians and Seljuk Muslims who would later rule.  Churches, caravanserais, madrassahs, mosques, and an old fortress still stand as relics from those empires.

The city continued to rise and fall over its four-thousand year history.  Kayseri holds many names including  Mazarca, Eusebia, Caesarea Cappadociae, Kaisariyah, and now Kayseri in the Turkish Republic. For a long time, it remained a diverse city with a variety of Muslims and Christians living together including significant Armenian and Greek populations.  However, the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the chaos that ensued would ultimately eliminate Kayseri’s ethnic diversity over time.  Today, the city is well over 90% Muslim like the rest of Turkey.

Moreover, Turks identify Kayseri as one of the country’s most conservative locations.  Which brings me back to the initial question: “Why Kayseri?”  Many Turks would ask me if I liked Kayseri, if I found it a good place to live, and if the people were “nice there?”  Imagine a foreigner coming to live in the US, and their destination is Utah or Mississippi.  In the eyes of many, that’s the equivalent of my move to Kayseri.

There is no question that Kayseri is conservative, at the outset. There are only two bars in the city that I know

of (I haven’t really been looking), and the restaurants and shops are usually locked up and shut by 10pm, even on Friday and Saturday nights are usually.  The cities most famous citizen is the current president of Turkey, Abdullah Gül, who belongs to Turkey’s conservative leaning Justice and Development Party.

But, living in the city, particularly at the university, has led me to see Kayseri in a different light.  Yes, religion is practiced more in Kayseri than in Istanbul.  However, this isn’t special to Kayseri, and in fact, most Turks I’ve met in Anatolia (Turkey’s Asian plain) have been more religious.  But, they’ve also been respectful and tolerant of differences.  I am occasionally asked if I’ve considered becoming a Muslim by friends, but after sharing my thoughts, we almost always move on to other topics with ease.

The other thing I’ve noticed is that students from Kayseri are as tolerant of differences as most other Turkish students .  Last February, I wrote an article about Turkey’s ideological split regarding the wearing of headscarves where five students from Kayseri explained how they may have one belief, but don’t want to force it on another.  For my more religiously observant students, they’re seeking equality more than conformity.

With that said, not all of Kayseri is as forward thinking.  Some families and dormitories impose curfews for their daughters and female students as early as 7pm.  Issues including ethnic differences and sexual orientation are certainly still taboo in many circles in this city, but I’ve yet to see how the issues in Kayseri are different from Turkey’s capital of Ankara, where I also lived.  Ankara’s size and position of capital does mean more diverse groups of people live there, but the culture is extremely familiar.

In Anatolian cities like Kayseri, I’ve met extremely friendly people.  People who have invited me into their homes for dinner.  People who have driven me 25 miles outside the city in order to learn something about their history or their family.  People who have helped me find the things I need to manage my life in the strange but increasingly modern and westernized city of Kayseri.

I think the fears of a conservative revolution emerging from Kayseri is a bit overblown. Its residents will continue to hold on to traditional values that have been apart of their lives for generations.  But, Kayseri is an emerging city with plenty of room to grow.    Turkey remains a youthful nation, over half the country is under 25.  The students here are looking forward, and hoping to find successful careers in the global marketplace.  Kayseri is ever evolving.

This is “why Kayseri” is a interesting place to be.

(For all of my photos from Kayseri and Erciyes University, check out the photo gallery.)

turkish

Turkish national holiday puts children center stage

VIDEO STORY

Every April 23, Turkey’s children take control of their nation.

Turkey’s Children’s Day (April 23) is a national holiday where children attend festivals across the country, and some students are even selected to serve as the honorary President, Prime Minister, and as members of Parliament for the day.

Kemal Ataturk, founder of the Turkish state, declared the holiday while in the middle of the country’s war for independence. On the 23 of April, the Turkish Republic’s first Parliament convened. Ataturk entrusted the day to children to emphasize their importance in contributing to the growth and protection of the fledgling republic.

The thousands of parents and families in attendance today agreed about the day’s importance.

“Our motto is peace at home, peace in the world,” said parent Murat Dogan, “Children are like young trees. This celebration gives us the chance to inject peace into their minds. We need to bring our children up with peace. If we do this, the future will be bright.”

Fatma Akkas, a grandmother added, “This is a holy day for us because Atatuk gave our children this gift. I always take my children.”

“When I was bringing my children this morning,” said Ebru Turksanli, a mother of two, “I thought about how hard our ancestors fought for this holiday. It wasn’t easy for them to give it to us.”

Parades, dedications, and festivals fully run by children marked the event. Government officials and Turkey’s omnipresent military took in the show from the sidelines. One student was eager to share in the national themes.

“We are very thankful for Ataturk! On this day, the Turkish Parliament was formed and Ataturk declared this day, Children’s Day. This was the first and only children’s day in the world. Thank you Ataturk!”

Children’s Day celebrations are not new. They are found in at least 50 countries, although Turkey is among the few who make it a national holiday. For the participants, the day represented the culmination of months of hard work.

“I thought it was very good,” said one young performer, “We worked very hard. We practiced for nearly four months. Last month, we were dancing more than we were going to school.”

As the final flags and images were unfurled, the crowd erupted to thunderous applause. For a few hours at least, the issues of Turkey were put on hold as the eyes of a nation turned to their children.

Special thanks to Abdulfettah Açikel and Hüseyin Yılmaz for translations.

turkish

Turkey’s parade of roses

Yesterday, April 20, I found the floors of my classes littered with rose petals.  I walked through campus, and found students and faculty carrying single roses in their hands.

The reason, I would come to learn, is in honor of the Prophet Muhammed’s birth.  Most Muslims believe that Muhammed was born on April 20, 570 A.D.  Although celebrating the Prophet’s birthday is not an official religious event in comparison to Christianity’s celebration of the birth of Christ.  Many Muslims in Turkey choose to honor the day by giving out roses.  The roses are distributed at mosques across the country, including on our university campus.  Some roses came with a saying of the Prophet, reminding the bearer to be faithful and just.

Why a rose?  The rose is a popular symbol for Muhammed.  Since photographs, drawings, and other pictorial depictions of Muhammed are forbidden, popular symbols have evolved.   In Turkey, the rose is a dominant symbol for love and passion (just like in many other cultures).  But, the rose has also been linked to Muhammed by some of Turkey’s most famous poets.  In one poem, well-respected philosopher Yunus Emre writes:

You'd be hard pressed to walk into any classroom or office without running into one of these this week.

“Gül Muhammed deridür bülbül anın yarıdır
Ol gül ile ezeli cihana bile geldim”

“Rose is the scent of Muhammed and fellow of the nightingale.

Because of that rose, I came into being.”

According to lore, even Muhammed’s sweat smells like roses.

Another rose fact, many first and last names include the word rose (Gül), often for its spiritual connotations.   The current president of Turkey is named Abdullah Gül, or President Rose.

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Family Matters

As I mentioned when I first arrived, my friend Mehmet and his family have opened their home and their hearts to me for nearly two months now.  Unfortunately, my time in their home is up.  Today, I will be leaving to house-sit for a British diplomat living elsewhere in the city during the next month.

I’ve mentioned a few times already that being hospitable to guests is among the highest of virtues for many Turks.  As a yabanci (yah-bahn-ji) or foreigner, many Turks have gone far out of their way to help me.  I’ve had Turks take me to locations personally when I was lost, even if they were heading in the opposite direction. (See Map Quest post) In Antalya last week, a man and his wife asked me to sit down and have a drink with them after only a few minutes of conversation while standing on a ledge by the Mediterranean.  Not only have my Turkish friends who studied in Boston brought me to dinner or invited me to see their homes or cities, but friends of those friends have called me, out of the blue, offering any help or assistance.  In fact, I’ll be staying at one of those friends of friend’s apartments this weekend while in Istanbul.

However, none of the hospitality I’ve been given in the last two months can compare to the hospitality shown by Mehmet and his family.  From the first day, Mehmet and Malek, along with their children Sezer and Zeynep, have done anything they could to help me adjust to living in Turkey.  Mehmet has constantly looked out for me, and I really appreciated the numerous times he has gone out of his way to help me.  For example, he went along with with me on the hour long dolmus ride on my first day and walked to my class building so I couldn’t get lost, even though this journey meant he would be late for work and have to come home later that day.  Mehmet, the CFO for Turkish Radio and Television (TRT), already spends long hours at work, often leaving home at around 9:30am and not coming home until 7 or 8pm, and sometimes even later.

Moreover, I would not be so healthy and well off had it not been for Malek making sure my belly was always full.  If you don’t believe me, check out some of the meals she prepared for me in the photo gallery under “Good Eats in Turkey.”  Malek, an artist in the kitchen, went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure that I was always fed.  One night, I came home very late around 10 or 11pm.  I had a small dinner earlier, but of course, Malek said I needed to eat something, and after what only seemed like seconds, she came out with a piping hot dolma stuffed with rice and vegetables.

As for Sezer and Zeynep, they have been incredibly understanding of my “intrusion” into their space.  I haven’t mentioned this, but I’m currently staying in Sezer’s usual room.  Don’t worry, Sezer isn’t sleeping on the couch.  There is a third room, a bit smaller, but still a room with a bed and all the other basic necessities.  As for my adjustment to them, I grew up an only child so living with an 8 and a 4 year-old has been distracting occasionally, sometimes overwhelming, and on some days, made me want to pull my hair out.  But more often than not, they made me smile and gave me plenty of good reasons to procrastinate from this blog including letting Sezer show me his Grand Theft Auto car collection or giving Zeynep a free ride on my shoulders.

I’ve grown incredibly fond of Mehmet and his family.  They’ve done more than I would ever ask, including laundry.  They’ve trusted me with their home, I’ve house-sitted for almost a combined two weeks when Mehmet and his family have been out of town.  We’ve shared a lot of time together, from grilling in the park, to playing basketball, to sitting down and watching American movies like “Office Space,” “The Blues Brothers,” “Sgt. Bilko,” and “Hitch.”  The only thing I’ve been asked in return is to help Sezer with his English, which I’ve been more than happy to do.

I’ll never forget the time I’ve spent on the seventh floor of 15 Zuhtu Tigrel, behind door #20.  It’s reminded me of the importance of one of our greatest virtues, giving.   In a world moving so fast and where so many of us are caught up in our individual wants and needs, we sometimes forget about how good it feels to help out our fellow man.

turkish

All roads lead to Turkish

UPDATE (8/31/09): This story was published in one of the two English language newspapers in Turkey, “Today’s Zaman.”  View it here.

Navigating crowded streets filled with the morning traffic of downtown Ankara, I find the plain eight-story graystone that I report to every weekday morning. Nestled away on the fourth floor is a cultural wonderland. In this room, 16 people, who belong to nine nationalities and collectively speak at least eight different languages, come together each day. No, I don’t work at an international agency; this is just my Level 1 Turkish class.

Three weeks ago, I came to Ankara to continue my Turkish language studies at Ankara University’s TOMER program. Certainly, I expected to pick up much more Turkish in the class, but I didn’t expect to see so much diversity.

Nearly everyone is in their mid twenties except Nye, a retired British expat who has spent many of his years (he won’t reveal how long) living and working in Turkey. When asked by our instructor on the first day how he managed so long without learning any Turkish, he replied, “I’m a good Englishman.” The youngest members of our class are a pair of mischievous 15-year-old twins from Kazakhstan who almost always seem to be in sync with each other from answering questions in unison to leaning against the wall and falling asleep together in just the same manner.

There is one other group of siblings in the class, three Americans from Seattle. From ages 15 to 19, they’ve spent almost all of their summers in Turkey with their American mother and Turkish father. I originally met them while lost amidst the crammed registration room during the first day. They had originally been placed by their father in a much higher level, but eventually ended up in the basic class with us several days later.

Two other students came to the class because of husband related needs. One of them, an energetic Bosnian woman in her late twenties, moved to Turkey for her husband’s new job as a television translator. The other woman, a soft-spoken Afghani, is actually trying to learn English in Turkey while she waits for a visa to the US in order to rejoin her Turkish husband. However, English is only taught in Turkish, so she’s taking our class first.

Several of my classmates have taken a giant leap with few safety nets in coming to Turkey. As an American living for the next year on a government sponsored Fulbright grant, I know that I have a lot of resources available. But, that’s not the case for everybody. I think particularly of one young woman in her mid twenties from Iran. During class breaks, she tells us about her longing to return to Iran, and why, for personal reasons, she can’t go back at the moment. Even though I lived in Boston, a city with an outstandingly mixed population, I’ve met few Iranians. I’ve met even less that have lived there within the last five years, so it was refreshing to hear from a recent expat.

Filling out the rest of the class are four foreign students from Pakistan, Libya, Syria, and Hong Kong. The three Middle Eastern students are studying various subjects at Turkish universities. Although their instructors speak English, they felt it was time to try and learn some Turkish. Meanwhile, Ivory, from Hong Kong, is visiting for the summer as a part of her Turkish studies program in Taiwan.

Looking out at the class, it’s quite amazing to see how Turkey has brought us together from all over the world. Together, we stumble through our Turkish vowel harmony as we try to get our tongues around phrases like “Ben burada oturuyorum.” Amidst the incredibly welcoming but still foreign world outside, a world we hope to become better acquainted with by improving our Turkish. By practicing in our friendly group, we’ve stepped out of our shells, dared to speak more Turkish, and strengthened our resolve.

“With almost all of us knowing some English,” said Nye, “I think we’ve really been able to become quite a joined up group.”

Meanwhile, our instructor and her seemingly limitless amount of patience for us has been a saving grace. She continues to smile and encourage us, even while we struggle and sometimes wreak havoc with the intricacies of her native language. While constantly keeping a positive attitude, and often indulges us, by straying from the lesson at hand, and leading a conversation, in Turkish, about movies, music, or our curiosities about each other’s countries instead.

Some of my classmates can’t help but be drawn in by the class.

“I never planned on studying in Turkey, it wasn’t even on my list,” said Ivory from Hong Kong, “It was like fate.”

Whether you believe in fate or not, you can’t deny there is something special about a group of people coming from all across the world…to learn Turkish.