Thursday, May 30, 2013

Istanbul, no Constantinople

It's hard to describe a city the second time you experience it. Being in Istanbul, I was constantly at a loss for what to take pictures of/where to go since I already did most of the things here last time. But fair is fair, and it's about time I start writing things down before I forget. Lord knows with my alteizmers, details are already slipping. You may have to use your imagination for a lot of this though since I didn't take a lot of pictures and am relying on friends to slowly start uploading them.

Monday I arrived in Istanbul tired but excited to finally sit still for 2 weeks and recuperate after weeks of nonstop traveling. While I love the nomadic life, too much is too much and I needed to get back into some sort of routine. 

Burakhan, Pinar, Brandon, and Baba met me at the airport to drive us back to Çengelköy on the asian side of Istanbul where Burakhan's family lives. Burakhan was Brandon's host brother 3 years ago when we were hear studying with NSLI-Y, and graciously invited us to stay with his family again for our 2 week vacation. On the way back to the house we stopped for some delicious cai at a beautiful cafe along the Bosphorus, right near to Boğaziçi Köprüsü (the first bridge connecting the asian and european sides of istanbul). After we headed back to the house to unpack and relax--waiting for anne to get home from work so we could go out and expore


That night we met up with one of Burak's friends for some traditional nargile (hookah) in downtown Çengelköy. Sitting there on the roof, smoking, watching the bridge glow different colors it felt completely natural--almost like we'd never left. Baba picked us up afterwards to bring us back home (thank goodness, with all of the hills in Istanbul it is an absolute nightmare getting up all of them after a long day of traveling). 



Tuesday Burak didn't have school so we headed out to Ortakoy for waffles and kumpir (basically a baked potato amplified with delicious turkish add-ons). Ortakoy is one of my favorite spots in Istanbul--right near the bridge, with a whole bunch of cute little shops and places to eat at on the water. We sat down after getting our food in a little cafe as it started to rain, playing backgammon, smoking more nargile, and getting to know Burak's girlfriend Pinar even better. They've been dating for over a year now and are right on track for getting married here within the next few years. She's the cutest little thing ever--all smiles and broken english with a deep love and addiction for social media. We became great friends while I was there despite the language barrier.


Wednesday and Thursday Brandon and I were basically left to our own devices, which when you're traveling with Brandon Holden immediately means: shopping. I wasn't too upset about it since I had been living quite conservatively out of my backpack for the past 4 weeks and was dying to get a few new things to spice up my dull wardrobe. Especially needed  clothes for going out on the town, which I finally found at Cevahir mall (one of the biggest malls in Europe). It took fucking forever to find my shoe size (most turkish women are very small all around), and a lot of people didn't even know that they made shoes that size. So, feeling like a crazy ogre, I had almost given up hope when I finally came across the black flats I had been looking for. We also made the arduous trek up to Camlica, a gorgeous little look out over the city, super romantic. 

Friday we met up with our old Turkish teachers Ozan and Nazim from when we went to Istanbul last time with the State Department which was a nice change of pace. Nazim is a graduate student at Boazici University (one of the top universities in Istanbul) and Ozan teaches political economy at anohter reputable university. The pair of them together embody the idea of a true intellectual, and so picking their brain about a variety of different topics from the role of turkey in the middle east, to sexual discrimination and mandatory military service took on a whole new robust intercultural meaning. Talking with them also reaffirmed my desire to continue on with school and add to the realm of academia--they're really well read and respectable men. Just the kind of people who should be leading/influencing the next generation.  


Since we arrived in Istanbul around the time of finals, the two of them had to head out kind of early to continue on with their studying/grading. Brandon and I, lenient about turning in early, opted to stick around taksim and get a few drinks ourselves. That night I had my first drink of turkish raki, which I had been toold by Brandon was the most absolutely vile drink ever. Having tried it though, I'd definitely say that the greek raki was far more disgusting, and mixing the raki with water is really the way to go. It didn't take much alcohol to get me talking, and we sat their swapping experiences and life stories for a good hour or so before heading home to the asian side.

Saturday we had planned to go out on the town with some friends Brandon made the last time we were hear, but since they had decided to party on Friday night they were too hung over to do a back-to-back night out. Regardless: we were set on going out. Pre-gamed with Burak in his room before heading out to Taksim to explore the nightclub scene. Went into several places and got lots of free drinks, before ending up at the gay bar a bit away from the center of taksim. I've already written about that experience in a past post, so I won't go into that again here. I'll just say again: amazing time. 



Staying out until 6am dancing was, in retrospect, probably not the greatest idea since we had planned a family picnic the next morning at 10 am. After barely sleeping, we dragged ourselves out of bed, nearly comatose, for a day out enjoying the sun at the black sea. Picnics are a traditional turkish family outing, and when we arrived there were plenty of other families set up for their day of relaxation -hammocks, traditional music blasting, more food than anyone can ever hope to fit in their stomach with any type of pleasure. To take advantage of the sun we went tanning and swimming in the sea (freezing...absolute ice cubes). Played monkey-in-the-middle with Burak, Fatos, and Brandon before realizing a little scary fact about the black sea. 

It's filled with jellyfish.

I. shit. my. pants. 

There were so many of them--clear so they blended in with the water, of various shapes and sizes. In the states, if someone saw a jellyfish the logical response would be to get the fuck out. To the turkish? Pick them up. Keep swimming. Throw them at people. 


Not. Funny.
I repeat: not funny. 

That was the end of me swimming in the black sea, which was fine since it was about time for us to gorge ourselves on delicious barbecue. After rounds of chicken, grilled vegetables, kofte, bread, and other meats I was begging for death. Ended up passing out on one of the picnic tables as the others lounged under a shady tree, trying to catch up on sleep and recover from the night's slight hangover. Anne woke us up about an hour later for some tea, after which we packed up and headed back to Istanbul. I slept for 12 hours that night.

Monday Pinar joined the three of us for a day at one of Brandon and I's favorite tourist destinations: Buyukada. Buyukada essentially means "big island" and is one of the chain of islands right off of the coast of Istanbul--super beautiful, secluded, quiet (no cars allowed), and beautiful. We rented bikes and decided to ride around the island to soak in all of the beautiful views. Sounds like a nice time, but by about halfway through I was dead. So many hills, such scorching heat, such little shade. Istanbul definitely took it out of me with all of this physical training. I was grateful for the experience, but also glad to stop being anally raped by the bike seat after a while.


Tuesday Brandon and I headed out alone to one of my favorite little backstreet flea markets in Levent. The clothes there are super cheap (between 2-10 USD), essentially overstock from companies that manufacture a lot of their clothes in Turkey (definitely have seen h&m stuff in there). After that success we moved on to the more expensive Sultanahmet for a taste of old-historic Istanbul. Haggled a bit in the grand bazaar for some jewelry, flirted with sexy shopkeepers, and visited the beautiful blue mosque before meeting up with Burak and Pinar for dinner. Through her father's connections, we were able to eat a luxurious Turkish meal right on the bosphorus completely free of charge--getting to try some new traditional dishes that just added to my already deep love of turkish food. I was so stuffed by the end I could hardly move. 

Wednesday Burak wanted to show us the University he attends just outside of Istanbul, so we went with him by bus to visit while he turned in one of his final papers. The school was really pretty--set in the middle of a green forest which was a great breath of fresh air after the stuffy city. The bus ride home was hotter than hell (Istanbul in general, hotter than hell), so we rebelled for the rest of the day by calling it a "stay inside where it is cool with the internet" night. Watched a scary turkish movie about demons (not usually my thing, but I agreed to give it a good try) and nearly pissed myself when afterwards the lights went out in the entire neighborhood. To top it all off, Pinar passed out from being so scared which made us think that SHE was possessed by demons, which made it even more scary. Turns out it was just a routine energy saving power outage, but still. Too much.

Thursday we went to Boazici University to visit Nazim who is a student/teacher there. Boazici is a beautiful university--very green with lots of shade, so different from the rest of the city that you almost forget you're in Istanbul. The University is 150 years old and very regal looking--like I said before, an ivy-league Turkish school. I'd love to go back there and be a temporary professor later in life. Definitely a new goal on the list of things to do.


Friday we spent another lazy day inside prepping for the Turkish house party we had gotten invited to by the same friends who ditched us the week earlier. While awkward in the beginning with the langauge barrier, after the alcohol started to flow it became a lot more fluid with our social interactions. Met some cool turkish people, as well as some very interesting friends from Iran. To me, they were complete anomalies and I was shocked at how much we had in common. Besides being in love with cats and preferring them to dogs, they were also obsessed with the show 'Friends' which, as anyone knows, is my life.  I particularly connected with one in particular, Hamid, sharing poetry and many other philosophical outlooks on life. Hung out with them for the rest of the night and came to learn a lot more about trusting people and breaking down stereotypes/cultural fears.

Saturday we went with the entire family to this cute restaurant on top of a hill overlooking the city. Brandon went there with the family last time we were there, listening to traditional live Turkish music and taking in the views. There was also the opportunity to dress up in old traditional ottoman robes and take themed pictures, which we took advantage of and looked AWESOME. Also paddled around the lake and danced to the live band with anne and baba, sipping cai and basking in the ambiance of the place.

Sunday was another repeat picnic at the Black Sea--this time with more of the family. Convinced myself to swim fora  little bit despite the jellyfish, till this dumb turkish boy thought it would be funny to chase me around with a big one in his hands trying to throw it on me. I ended up grabbing a shoe and threatening to beat the shit out of him if he came any nearer, after which he finally relented. Brandon and I also got invited to play some football on the beach with a large group of boys which was SO unbelievably hot I got blisters on the bottom of my feet. But we did each score a goal, so it was worth it. Ended the day with a large feast and lounging about in the hammock.

For my last day in Istanbul I wanted to go back to Sultanahment to get some gifts for back home. Walked around the spice bazaar for the first time, trying different turkish delights and taking in the beautiful spices. Finally converted Brandon to baclava which was absolutely divine. Walking around a city for the last time is always weird as you are trying to take so much of it in, but it also is hard to believe you won't be standing in that place for a long time again. That's how it was with Istanbul--deep down I knew it was only goodbye for a short period of time.


That night the family went out for balik ekmek (fish sandwiches) on this boat restaurant on the european side to complete my "to-eat" checklist. Afterwards we met up with another old friend of Burak and Brandon's and went out to Fenerbache to smoke nargile for the last time and generally just hang out since I was leaving early the next morning on my flight. The sports bar was really laid back and the company was great--definitely ended the night with some of the greatest people in Istanbul. Pinar in particular was a hilarious drunk, so that was fun to see. After coming home at the end of the night at around 1am, I decided to just go ahead and stay awake and pull an all nighter for my flight. Wanted to take in Istanbul until the very last second.



Overall, I loved Istanbul best probably out of all the cities I visited this time. That's hard to say because each place comes with so many great memories and people along the way, but there's just something about that city that gets me--and maybe it just is that special place I'll always hold for it as the first place I traveled to. The people, the food, the architecture, the culture, the exchange rate, THE SEXY MEN...it was great, and I already miss it. I will definitely be going back soon though. Istanbul, seni seviroyrum <3

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Open Letter To My Bathtub


Fuck.
The world.
Today.
The only arms I want wrapped around my body tonight is your sweet porcelain touch
as i sink farther and farther beneath the foamy white bubbles, you rising up to meet me
loosening the noose I've spent all day winding around my neck,
forcing me to surrender my electronic bullets before entering your gentle waters
your lavender breath overriding the shit I’ve been wading in all day

I'm done.
No more elegant facades.

The door is locked.
I have my spoon, my jar of nutella, my pot of tea
My head in the game for the
Six hours of Downton Abbey streaming on my laptop that's about to take place
with NO amount of shame because, fuck it.
After the day I've had, I need to believe there was a better time to be alive
to strive for my own Matthew Crawley because he's got to be out there but
tonight, his name is Moen because
frankly, i'm not trying to be on my feet any more than I absolutely have to
and lord knows I have enough pressure on my plate right now
to go around and share.

The phone is off for a reason and thank god we’re past the age of landlines.
You’d have to throw a pretty large soup can through my window right now
To get in contact with me, the string has been cut
I’ve shut myself away inside your loyal trench so
Please leave a message after the tone, ass hole.
I’ll get back to you as soon as it’s possible for you to get your own damn coffee.

But you know this and
maybe that's what I love about you most
how you won't ask me the questions you know I'm tired of answering every time i lay back
on that woman's chair, looking at ink blot representations of my current "state of mind"
I'm inclined to believe your therapy will do more than any pill but
I sware to GOD that I'll kill that man downstairs if he doesn't stop playing that fucking trumpet.
A repetitive scale striking every one of my nerves note by note
It’s rhythm a brand of hate searing into my memory
Images of his body blowing air
Out of new holes I’ll create for him with my bare hands.   

Some days I don't think people will ever learn,
But you—oh holy basin. Your holy water
is the only thing reminding me that what comes after Thursday is always
vodka, and that should be enough to get me by but why
I can’t have a few shots now is becoming less and less clear and
Goddamn when did Tom get so hot!
Enough with the American dream
New life plan: buy a ticket to Ireland
At least they understand my coping mechanisms.

And even though you’ll never be long enough or deep enough
Or stay warm long enough I forgive you and I know that you
Will always be there to wear out the paper creases of late credit card payments
Chiseled deep within my forehead causing me to age even more prematurely
In a never ending cycle of stressful demands my hands are tied to you
Like a lifesaving raft bringing me safely back to shore after a lifetime of trying to stay afloat.

and I'll stick with you until my toes look like prunes, and my hands feel like dried out pickles
and I've peed so many times I know even your magic hands can't hide the fact
that I am the most disgusting human being ever soaking in my own filth
but I don't care because i know that sometimes life is like you
and deep down i really love it and
deep down i really crave it and
deep down i really need it
and lord knows I'll never leave.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Five Reasons Why Gay Bars are the Best Things Ever and I'll Never Go Back to a Straight One

I recently had the pleasure of going out for my first night on the town last Saturday in Istanbul, Turkey which finally felt like the true club experience I have been waiting for for the past 5 weeks while traveling. And after over 7 hours of dancing and getting a feel for the city's vibe, I can say with complete confidence that Turkish gay clubs are the. shit. Which is why it's going to take a lot of convincing for me to go back to a traditional club. And here is why.

Brandon drunk with one of our favorites

1. Gays are always, as a rule of thumb, the most beautiful men in any culture.

This is no exception in Istanbul. We went to 3 bars before ending up at this fabulous gay club near Taksim aptly named 'Love', and the difference was instantly palpable. Not only were the men significantly taller and younger than they were in the straight bars, but they were also so. much. sexier in their overall attitude and ambiance. They dressed better, carried themselves better, were friendlier...generally, they just had their shit together and I loved it. Besides, Turkish men? Sign me up any day for one of them. I feel everyday walking around in Istanbul that I've hit the jackpot and I thank allah that Turkish men exist. As my friend Lisa so wisely said to me one night "I love men so much, I think that even if I was a man I'd still love them. I'd be gay for sure." Amen, sista. Amen.


2. Gays know how to dance.

Again, this goes without saying. I absolutely loved pushing my way through the crowd and catching a man's eye and being able to just start dancing with them without worrying about it being anything more. Super casual, super fun--dance for a minute and move on without hurting anyone's ego. Being not only a woman in the Turkish gay bar but also an obviously Scandinavian-looking foreigner, I was also a hot commodity for a dance partner. Everyone wanted this, and so I got to know a lot of great Turkish dancers throughout the evening. And just because they preferred 'D' to 'V' didn't mean these men took dancing any less seriously--all holding hands and spinning and screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs when "Thrift Shop" came on and I lost. my. shit. It was very natural and uncomplicated--how a night out dancing should feel like.

3. You never have to wait in the queue for the bathroom.
How I feel I need to be like going into a straight club WC

As a woman in the club, this point is crucial. I can't even explain to you the amount of time it takes waiting to break the seal in a normal club. You don't think it's that big of an issue until it comes up, but it is.Too many women taking their merry time, checking make up, chatting about boys, doing basically everything you can do ANYWHERE ELSE in the area where I specifically need to perform a basic bodily function. So when I walked into that ladies room at the gay club and saw that not only was there no type of line whatsoever, but also three stalls available for my choosing, I thought I had passed out and gone to heaven. Hip hip hooray for no conceited bitches taking up unnecessary space in the bathroom!



4. Gay men always have your back in a sketch situation.

So there was this one man at the club who was a total creeper. He would always come out of nowhere, all protruding eyes and wandering hands wanting to be all up on everyone male or female (found out later he was paid to do this). At first it was whatever, part of the club experience, but after a while it was just too creepy. Not only did the men I was dancing with in my circle pick up on this almost immediately, but they actively helped to take the heat off me without me even asking whenever he started getting too close/too much in general. Very nonchalant and passive aggressive, just grabbing me to dance and being a little bit more possessive until he moved on--exactly what a good girlfriend would do at a straight bar, only more effective. I loved knowing that there were men who were completely uninterested in my goodies who were willing to help out a sister in need. Much love.

5. If I am trying to pick up a liberal, tolerant, and intelligent straight man--he is probably at the gay club.


Sexy Turkish Man #3 circa 4:30am
He may also be bi-curious, but I'm not judgmental. Seriously though, a man who is secure enough in his sexuality and masculinity to go for a night out at the gay bar is a winner in my book--exactly the type of person I'm looking to spend a good night out with. And I can vouch for two of the Turkish men I became familiar with at the club who were absolutely straight, and they were also the coolest guys ever. Great dancers, fabulously dressed, respectfully sensual, bad ass tattoos, and sexy as hell with their beautiful facial hair--I was in heaven. Hearing them sing along in Turkish to the middle eastern music also made my life. I think some of the gay vibe must have rubbed off on them though because after a while it seemed too good to be true that I could be getting this lucky with quality straight men at a gay bar. Nevertheless, I was smitten each time.

If anyone can come up with 5 equally convincing reasons for me to return to a straight bar, I would be interested in this persuasive argument. Until then...leave me to my gays and their amazing clubs. Hellooooo Istanbul ;)

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Greece

Just finished a great 6 days in Greece and am now safe and sound in one of the best cities in the world: Istanbul. Before Istanbul begins to do its number on me, I feel that I need to take a moment to reminisce on the great experience that was Crete and Athens.
One section of Chania Old Harbor

I arrived in Chania (Crete) last Tuesday morning after my 12 hour stint in Rome yet again. Naturally, being Greece, it was hot as hell as soon as I got off the plane so I was in a hurry to get to my hotel and take a shower/relax since I'd only slept for less than 2 hours the night before. Grabbed the city bus into town and start heading out to the Old Harbor where my hostel was situated--a beautiful private room overlooking the old venetian lighthouse. The Old Harbor wasn't hard to find, and neither was my hotel--perfect location right among all of the cute little cafes. Walk up to the door and...locked.

Now I'm trying not to panic. My first thought was that the hotel had a lock-out I was unaware of, which many hostels do so they can clean rooms in the afternoon. After knocking several times, I then ask a woman at a restaraunt right next door if there is another entrance into the hotel since I've booked a room and I'd like to check in. She gives me a pitiful look and says "I was told that the owners took all of the money, closed the hotel, and left town. This hotel is no longer open and you should call the police." 
Life made so much more sense after this
I. Was. Done. 

Looking back, I'm really glad that I had the fogginess of sleep deprivation to help me cope with this news, as I think fully capacitated I would have been a hot mess. As it was, I was outside of my mind hungry and headed right next door and sat myself down for some food so I could think properly about the next course of action. Ordered a delicious chicken bacon gyro and a traditional greek mythos beer. 

After kicking back, enjoying my food and the beautiful view in the harbor I then set off the old fashioned way to cross compare hotel prices since I had no internet access. After asking around 5-6 different places, I finally felt drawn to stay at this cute little Hotel Morfeas in a side alley off of the main strip. A bed/bathroom to myself was 25 euros a night which was about the same price as my last hotel, though there was no free breakfast. At this point I didn't even care--I just wanted a place to put my things and sleep. Since it was only around 3 in the afternoon I asked the girl receptionist downstairs what I should eat while in Crete and then headed out to see the city, deciding I would come back in a few hours and head to bed early. Walked around the harbor, bought some post cards, and had a lovely mousaka dinner with shots of raki after before calling it a night and staying in that hotel room for the next 15 hours to sleep/lounge.

Our guide in the freezing greek water
The next morning I woke up and continued to explore out by the lighthouse/many of the little shops around Chania. I had wanted to go and hike the famous samarian gorge or go to one of the other popular beached in greece, but my finances were not very happy that it would cost 35 euros to go on a 7 hour hike by myself or to go lay on a beach 2 hours away, so I decided to stay around town. Around midday I indulged in a little glass bottom boat tour out to this island off the coast where our english guide got in his wetsuit and brought different fish under the glass for us to see. We had the opportunity to snorkel as well, but the water was wayyyy to cold for that so I stayed warm inside the boat. 

 After the boat trip I just continued to walk around the city, exploring different places and trying to decide whether or not I should indulge in an actual meal or go for the cheap gyro place again. I would have probably gone for the cheaper option had I not run into the most romantic restaurant ever.

Try not to fall in love here, I dare you
With lovely fragrant violet flowers strewed around the ground and sensual open beams letting in the cool cretan air, I was smitten. I was straight up falling in love. Without further question I sat down and ordered myself some more traditional greek food (boureki) and people watched. It's taken a long time for me to feel comfortable eating by myself since there is such a huge negative bias towards it in the US (and I'm still working on re-writing this narrative), but this meal was too delicious and the atmosphere too perfect to bother with what people thought. Any pictures I tried to take did it complete injustice.

This entire trip has been a battle with technology to try and capture the beautiful scenery and feeling of these places--something that so often just can't be done when you are traveling in the Mediterranean. 

I headed in for another early evening since I wanted to leave pretty early the next day to explore Rethymno and Heraklion before my overnight ferry to Athens.
The ride to Rethymno was pretty uneventful, just one short hour by public bus. I should note that Crete has THE most comfortable transportation--straight up Greyhound buses taking you all around the island for only 6-7 euros. Really really great for sitting back and enjoying the natural scenery of Crete. 

I was surprised by how unimpressive Rethymno was, only spending about an hour and a half total there where I had planned to spend 4. Walked around the weekly thursday market where they sold lots of cheap clothes--which I almost indulged in, but then last minute decided I would wait until Turkey. Back on the bus for another hour and a half journey to Heraklion where the ferries leave for mainland Greece.
Angry Greek Santa in the throws of the argument

This ride was quite a different story. Besides the fact that it was a completely packed bus, I also had the pleasure of sitting next to Greek Santa for the duration of the journey, which I was ecstatic about since his beard was so glorious. 

Little did I know that he was a fighter, and within 10 minutes of being on the bus he is in absolute BEDLUM with these two other people on the bus talking only god knows what about (though I have a feeling it was about the turks to be honest...did hear them mention turkey several times). This continued on for about 40 minutes, as the woman assisting with collecting tickets tried to subdue him but most other passengers just laughed at his passionate argument. I actually ended up recording a part of his yelling, just to illustrate how much my peace was disturbed on this bus trip by angry greek Santa. 


One of the main things I've come to understand while in Greece is the old phrase "I don't know, it all looks greek to me" when people don't understand something. This. is. too. true. So much truth behind this statement, as Greek neither looks or sounds like ANYTHING resembling any language I've heard while traveling in the Mediterranean. There are so many different letters they have that I honestly have no idea how they are correlated with different sounds, and as such I spent a lot of time silently nodding and drifting off when I'd hear people going off in Greek. Such was my experience with angry greek Santa's rantings as well as my travels within Greece itself. And so many things were in strictly Greek too, whereas other countries will usually have english and their mother language side by side. Needless to say, I was confused 80% of the time with what things meant/where to go because of the strict language barrier.

Minoan Lines: my first fancy ferry experience
Tried walking around Heraklion for a few hours before it started to rain buckets down, so I walked back to the port and got on the ferry early. I don't know exactly what I had been expecting for this ferry, but I was absolutely blown away. This was my first real time being on a ship for more than an hour or two journey, and it was glorious. Straight up restaurants, night clubs, televisions, swimming pools--the works. My poor ass felt like I was on the goddamn titanic, walking around starstruck by all of the different options of what to do ON A BOAT. 

My sentiments exactly Meryl. Shattered.

After exploring around the ship for an hour I soon staked my place in the economy seating area I had booked, following other people's lead and laying my stuff across an entire aisle so I could lay down to sleep. As soon as the ship took off, I got a bought of laziness and decided to settle in for a movie. What else do you watch in Greece as an ignorant American but: Mama Mia. Movies like this and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants greatly skewed my experience of what I thought Greece would be like, and I'm not going to lie---I was very upset that I didn't have a sexy greek boyfriend within 48 hours of entering the island. You got me this time, Hollywood.

Arrived in Piraeus the next morning, the port city just outside of Athens. Followed the throng of people to the metro and hopped on to continue the journey into Athens. Since it was only 8am by the time I stepped off the metro at Monastiraki Station in downtown Athens, everything was closed. I knew my hostel was pretty centrally located since that was my main reason for booking it, so with directions in hand I headed out to find it. After 15 minutes of walking I arrived, set down my bags with the receptionist guy, and soon after went on the free walking tour to get better acquainted with the city. 

How lucky was I?
The gods must have favored me because I found myself face to face with 4 beautiful gingers, two of which were literally from Ireland (stereo-typically running from shadow to shadow as to avoid being sunburned since they forgot their sunscreen...seriously). We headed up past the ancient greek and roman agoras, stopping along the way as he filled us in on greek history and modern culture/politics. We talked a lot about the state of Greece within the EU to be honest, and the level of corruption within the government that makes the country so economically depressed. Our guide was half Greek-half English, so he kind of had a dual perspective on the whole issue. Very insightful.
 
Standing on the sacred rock under the acropolis
Finally we arrived near the top of the acropolis overlooking the city where the ancient apostle Paul gave his sermon to the Greeks about Jesus Christ. It was also used to be a kind of courthouse where they would try the most serious of crimes, as they thought they higher you got to the gods the more likely you were to be honest and the gods were to intervene to bring about justice. Kind of a smart idea. Anyways, the rock has amazing views and is often used today as a hang out/romantic spot for friends and more-than-friends to come and relax after work. It's also very slippery from the leftover marble remnants.

We stopped soon after to get some delicious greek frozen yogurt--unlike anything I've ever tasted. So fresh and natural with lots of different options for toppings. Continued our tour through many archaeological sites before parting way at the Parliament building, at which point I headed home for a nap. Athens is such a hilly city that after a few hours of walking up and down and around all of these sites I needed to just...relax. Spent the rest of the day exploring around the hostel, visiting the National Library of Athens and Athens University before grabbing another gyro and turning in early.

Temple of Hephaestus
Though the tour was informational, we didn't actually enter any of the sites. On Saturday then I woke up early so I could head out and revisit a lot of the monuments to explore and take pictures. Started out at the ancient Greek agora which is like the old market place. At the museum there they also have the only fully-intact Spartan shield, which was actually kind of anti-climactic. My favorite was personally the Temple of Hephaestus which is much more impressive and in better condition than the Parthenon up on the acropolis. Its just incredible to think that Plato and Socrates walked these grounds debating ideas and teaching others philosophy...seriously crazy history here. 

Afterwards, by recommendation of my tour guide, I started with the Acropolis museum to see a lot of the artifacts recovered from the acropolis above. Personally, though many of the statues and other pieces were impressive, I thought the museum itself was amazing. Built as a working archaeological site, the bottom level floor is made of glass so you can look below and see the ruins as they continue to explore more of these old historic grounds. 

The Parthenon!
After putting off the acropolis as long as possible, I finally gave in and made the hellish trek up the hill. Hearing from many people that the monuments weren't that impressive I have to say....they were completely right. The view from up there is amazing, but with all of the destruction from war and religious pillaging there's not much in the way of impressive intact structures. Took the required photos, appreciated the view, and then returned to the hostel for another nap. Ever since I started traveling with Daniel in Barcelona and Sicily (an old lazy man, to be sure), I've been in love with naps while traveling. 

That night I got to know the two other girls in my hostel from Holland (Lisanne and Nicky) who were speaking so fast in dutch and would then interject with a "true story" that I couldn't stop laughing. Their knowledge of american slang and culture was impressive, not to mention their fluency in English  which made for a good time. That night I showed them the cheap 2 euro gyro place I'd been living off of since arriving in Athens. The next day we opted for a chilled out day at the beach to take advantage of the good weather and to  recover from all of our walking around Athens.

The beach itself wasn't particularly amazing, very rocky and small, but the weather was perfect. Hot, but with just the perfect amount of wind that every hour or so you could take a dip and be perfect lounging out. We spent a few hours there tanning and being harassed by Indian immigrants trying to sell us stolen goods before heading back to the hostel. Grabbed some more frozen greek yogurt, and indulged in a ladies-night Magic Mike fest back at the hostel.

Frankly, nothing too exciting near the end. Athens is really a 2-day city, and being there 4 days I started to get a little bored there at the end. Not unlike Istanbul--day 2 here and I'm re-smitten. Though I just know my english will be absolute shit by the end. So many hand gestures, broken words and phrases, and a mixture of very bad turkish--they'll have to re-teach me my own language! So excited to be back though with Brandon in Burakhan's lovely home! It's going to be a great 2 weeks now :)

Sunday, May 12, 2013

The Hope of Athena


So I've been in Athens three days now and am just blown away by the rich history that this place holds. The birthplace of democracy, theater, and art---most of Western Civilization owes many of its foundational assumptions to the theoretical, mathematical, and physical battles played out in this space. It really is incredible.

What I love hearing about most is probably ancient Greek mythology. It’s always held a place of deep fascination in the US and perhaps a bit of reverent nostalgia to our former pagan days, as many students are taught its royal pedigree at least once throughout their formal education. Fortunately, Athens is a central point for a lot of that mythology, so I've been able to piece together bits and pieces while going through these ancient structures, wondering about how these two worlds influenced each other.

It is no surprise to anyone that these mythological gods were extremely misogynist. Besides the fact that Zeus was a notorious womanizer, many other gods followed in his path and enjoyed a similar superiority complex over their fellow goddesses—oftentimes who ended up being raped.

That’s not to say that the greek goddesses were less than their male counterparts or merely victims. They were immortal in their own right—strong, confident, and really admirable women. Perhaps one of the most familiar, especially here in Athens, is the goddess Athena for which the city is named. Born fully grown from the head of Zeus after he ate her pregnant mother, Athena was known best for being the goddess of wisdom and victory. She was also known for her lesser roles as patron of the crafts and horses. Athena is depicted in many European cities as the “winged goddess of victory,” the goddess Nike, as on top of the Arc de Triomph in France and the Brandenburg Gate in Germany (as well as the shoe brand).

The goddess Athena
Athena became an important here when she won jurisdiction over the city after a competition with Poseidon, where her gift of the olive tree won out over Poseidon’s gift of water. As such, many architectural pieces around here bear her presence, and the famous acropolis itself based high over the city (acro=high; polis=city) was an extremely religious point for Athena to rule over.

After the defeat of the Persians at marathon, the Greeks were so proud of their victory and wanted to lord it over any other potential invaders that they built the acropolis. These impressive monuments would then be seen from far distances as a glorious symbol of their strength. At the forefront of that monument they built a glorious statue of Athena. The thing that was curious about this statue was its absence of wings—usually associated with the winged goddess of victory Athena. This was actually quite on purpose, as the Greeks wanted to make sure that victory would not leave them, and so they grounded her to the spot and made her stay in Athens.

Now I’m all for dissecting narratives—especially ones of a religious nature that tend to be so real to so many people and provide a foundation for our modern day epistemologies. In listening to this story, and looking up at the acropolis and what it stood for, I can’t help but think about what kind of message this sent to women in power at the time. Women who looked up to Athena as a source of strength, a source of inspiration—shackled to the top of the acropolis as a victory prize for men, her wings clipped to remain in control of the goddesses’ power in one of the most historically important cities of the world. What kind of metaphor did this hold for women of power and influence in general, that their independent wings would be shattered to serve the purpose of catering to men’s pride. That they are forever to be solid masses of stone, rather than moving and living things with their own power and will.

Today, the world needs new narratives with strong female role models--ones with wings fully intact, ready to bear the banner of victory utilizing the wisdom they have developed from experience. We need to stop putting women on a pedestal and allow them to fly and fully use their potential--we need more winged goddesses. 

The more people I meet and cultures I encounter, the more hope I have that these ancient stories are being reworked to include the holistic power of women and men in this ever-changing world. If anything I’m glad to have come to Athens to remember how far we’ve come, to see how many women have found their wings and the men and women who have helped to restore her place in Olympus.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Sicily

Bit behind on this one, but need to catch up before these next couple of days get away from me. This post will probably be short and to the point as I'm trying to cram as much as possible into my Greek experience. The internet connection is shit as well, so no pictures to accompany this post.

Sitting enjoying the lovely Sicilian views
Ended up in Sicily after that night with Daniele in Rome, with Daniel (Pardo) picking me up from the airport a little after my flight got in at 9 a.m. Went back to the Navy Base (Daniel is a corpsmen stationed here) so I could drop off my stuff and headed out to explore Catania. Walked a little bit around elephant square and grabbed some much needed gelato which was positively glorious. After gelato we headed back to base to pick up tickets for the Iron Man 3 premiere that night (Daniel is a comic nerd, so...naturally). To kill a few hours before the show, we headed back into Catania for a scenic drive along the coast which was also gorgeous, opting to stop for a chat by the sea.

That night was pretty standard, went to the Iron Man premiere (very impressed, way to go Robert Downey Jr) and killed the idea of going out on the town since both of us had gotten less than 6 hours of sleep the night before. So like old people, we headed to bed early.

The next morning we woke up and, with the luck of good weather, decided to go to the beach. After all, any trip to the Mediterranean has to include a quick dip.  It was there that I was able to go skinny dipping for the first time in a secluded cove a bit of a hike away from the regular beach. Although the water was freezing, it was also pretty refreshing to swim in the gorgeously clear water. Another great memory to add to the memory bank.

Afterwards we headed out for a bit of culture to Agrigento to look at the Valley of the Temples. Basically on the other side of the island, it took us nearly 3 hours to get there at which point the gods decided to curse us by making it rain. Middle fingers raised to the sky, we pressed forward and the clouds soon passed revealing more beautiful Sicilian sunshine. Walked around the old ruins, enjoyed the amazing views of the neighboring cities, and made the laborious 3 hour trip back to base. Back in Catania we indulged in some delectable bruschetta and pizza before turning in for another early evening after so much exhausting travel.

The wine bar out in Catania
Daniel worked a 24 hour shift at the hospital the next day, so I was mainly left to my own devices. Slept in, cleaned up a bit (as a woman staying in a man's place, this tends to always end up happening), and finished the first season of my latest addiction: House of Cards. That night I hooked up with 3 of Daniel's friends and we went into Catania for another orgasmic Italian experience at a local wine bar, gorging ourselves on a meat and cheese platter, pasta, wine, and steak. Good conversation, good company--all around a good evening. I can be pretty shy and socially awkward, but get some sicilian wine in me and the tables have flipped. Plus--how can any girl complain and sit alone in the corner when she is out for a classy meal in Italy with 3 lovely navy men? It just cannot be done.

Daniel and I at the ancient Greek amphitheatre
My last day in Italy I made Daniel take me to Siracusa so we could see the old greek amphitheatre and walk around the city. Catania is ok, but it's also pretty ghetto and dirty--so I wanted to see a more of a stereo-typically romantic italian city.The theatre was cool, if not a little underwhelming as they are reconstructing some stuff for the upcoming play season so it looked a little modern. Not to mention that all of the children in Sicily seemed to be on a field trip that day, following us loudly around from point to point. Driving away from the theatre towards Ortigia we went to see the Fonte Aretusa, an old fountain rooted in an old legend of two lovers who were eventually turned into bodies of water running into each other to be together forever. We also walked through a cool fish market, with lots of interesting and delicious smelling food. I wish so much that we had this type of local market culture in the US, as it reallly makes shopping for food so much fun. With hours left to spare we headed back to Catania so I could finish my laundry, pack, and get one last supper.

Things got a little crazy after, as Daniel had to pick up his friend from the airport an hour and a half before I needed to be there. We had planned to all eat together before my flight, so he dropped me off at the place we were going to eat at to pre-order so our early dinner could move faster. Because Italians are dumb and never on time, her flight was delayed meaning that I sat by myself at that table waiting over an hour for them to show up. By the time they did, we had to rush back to base and pack my stuff before literally speeding to the airport and running through to get me to my flight on time. It was a very stressful last couple of hours, but I arrived safe and on time to my flight back to Rome for the evening.

Late night walks around the Vatican
When I arrived in Rome, I took a bus and the metro to my hostel for the evening in Vatican City. I had around 7 hours in Rome before my next flight, which I decided to spend wandering the city. At around midnight me and this girl I met at the hostel (a fellow american) decided to walk around the corner to see the Vatican by night, the only monument I knew I would see in Rome at this hour. I was shocked at how safe the streets were at night, since I had heard pretty sketch things about Rome. We walked undisturbed for about an hour, before finally showing up at this 24 hour bakery around the corner from our hostel where I finally got to have my cannoli (my one missed culinary indulgence in Sicily . After a bit of internet time, I finally headed to bed with an hour and a half left to sleep before I had to get up and catch my bus to the airport for Crete.

It was a stressful trip all around. Lots of almost-missed connections, ill-timed rain, and hard life lessons but overall it was worth it. The food alone made up for all of the negative, and I really don't know if I'll ever be able to eat at Olive Garden ever again. Also having someone to experience Sicily with was a must, as most of the island is pretty spread out as far as things to do/see so I wouldn't have been able to do much on my own without a car.

As Daniel said to me on the drive back from Agrigento, sun shining through the window and wind blowing our hair back as we sped through the Sicilian countryside "Sydney, these are the memories you're going to look back on as some of the greatest moments of your life."

And I will. I will.

Untitled Poem


How to explain that you and I are having sex in two very different ways
the touch, the feel                                                 
This goes way beyond anatomy, i know
you got yours now let me get mine.
It's not so much that I need you to love me.
I've been taking care of myself for a long time now and I'll do it again
But it doesn't stop these nagging impressions, subversive suggestions
that I need a sedative depressant for every extreme emotion I feel
around you in order to play it "casual”

I have so much excess
So much I want to and am capable of giving
that it pains me to withhold that passion, that fullness
like a mirage always tempting, never quenching
you won't let me hold you in the way my arms were made to curve around your body
after you take that last ecstatic breath, bringing you closer in
the sin of sex is not in the act but in the being
It's not me, it's you
and I am left wanting
that permission to give.

Though you try to fill
my many sacred orifices,
you come up empty. your hands
buried in the sandbox dreams of my childhood,
forgetting that solidifying water that turns promises into action
sand into stone
building a foundation of hope bringing our long lost ships to port. They say
that love is when you learn to let go and just be, now
I’m not forcing you to love me, I know what self-respect looks like but
this pulsating tango of convoluted expectations is just not enough.
My body yearns for more than your rhythmic dance can give,
Our bodies oceans clashing
wading in and out with one too many unrequited wills
forgetting what it feels like to be
and if medication’s the only action
to subdue this attraction it seems that subtraction will be my only peace.
It’s time to leave
and get mine.

Friday, May 3, 2013

A word on trust


Traveling, for me, is all about meeting new people and interacting with new cultures. As such, many times when traveling alone and leaving yourself open to the possibilities of the moment this requires you to trust in those around you and believe the best about people. I’m not talking about the blind naivety that can get you in trouble, but the real trust you give to others when you open yourself up to their humanity and allow them to help you in return.

Last time I was in Europe for my internship in Paris, I had one of these moments that came as a result of having literally nothing else to do but trust. I arrived in Paris with about 300 USD to my name after being scammed out of an apartment which, as you can imagine when converted into euros, can start dwindling very quickly. I booked a hostel, ate frugally, but even so after 4-5 days my money was running out. The day before my internship was to start I was down to about 10 euros—enough to last me one more night in the hostel. That morning at breakfast, I sat with a group of people from all over the world and ended up chatting with a man from Brasil and Saudi Arabia. They were very nice men—Vander and Abdullah, who invited me to walk around the city with them. And so we went and walked all around Paris together, eating grapes and cheap ice cream by the Seine and learning from each other’s worldviews. Because of my financial situation, the two generously gave me several metro tickets to travel around with them as well as paying for a delicious meal at the end of the day. Walking around and thinking about the gravity of my situation, I had picked out a comfortable bench near the Notre Dame that I would sleep on the following evening when my money finally did run out. Hearing this, the men refused and offered to help me out until my funds came in from school. Two complete strangers from two very different places, but two of the most genuine and kind souls I’ve ever met.

That park bench went unslept on the following evening as my school funds got deposited in my account, but I was overwhelmed by their generosity and genuine concern for my well-being and safety. Those first few days in Paris a year and a half ago was really my first indoctrination into truly trusting people and seeing with a third kind of eye: my heart.

I only mention this story because once again I am supremely blessed and amazed at the generosity of others. Last night in Fes while looking at my upcoming trip to Italy, I was told by a fellow traveler, an Italian boy from Naples named Daniele that the airport I had planned to sleep in to save money was, in fact, closed at night. Frantically, I searched for any type of lodging/transportation which could get me from Ciampino airport to Fiuminico the next morning for my flight to Catania (Sicily), a 7 hour window of time. Most everything I could find was closed for the evening, or wouldn’t accept check-ins past the 11:30pm time. Wandering around the streets of Rome, or at least crashing at Termini Train Station crossed my mind in a desperate attempt to work out all of the alternative solutions to the problem. Finally I got up the courage and decided to utilize this sense of trust again, asking Daniele if I might be able to stay with him and his uncle that night for a few hours inside of Rome.

“Of course of course!” he replied laughing, as if I had asked the silliest thing in the world. “You can stay with us for free, this is no problem!” Talking with his uncle, all of the details were arranged and it was agreed that I could in fact crash on their couch that evening until I had to catch the bus for my flight the next morning.

Though Daniele’s aunt and uncle spoke little English, their hospitality and warmth was magnanimous. After picking us up from the airport, they invited me in and immediately began to make me feel at home—offering me towels to shower, a bed to sleep on, and even a delicious Italian meal complete with all of the stereotypical yet delicious Italian cuisine—prosciutto, mozzarella, red wine, tomatoes with olive oil, bread, and tiramisu. We sat around watching the Italian version of The Voice while Daniele and his family caught up on events back home in Italy as well as our trip to Fes while I tried my hardest to pick up words here and there that sounded the same in French. In addition to their already overflowing care, Daniele’s aunt also called and reserved a taxi to come and pick me up in the morning to take me to Termini Train Station about 4km away to catch my bus to the airport. Finally around 12:30 in the morning, after making up a nice bed for me in my own room Daniele’s aunt and uncle said goodnight and we all went to bed. I slept for less than 3 hours before Daniele himself then woke me up to say goodbye and make sure that I caught my taxi and had everything in order.

“I will wait for you in Naples” he said, laughing again as I tried to express my love for his family’s last minute accommodating hospitality.

Sitting here in Fiumicino and thinking about the course of the past 24 hours, safe and full of both delicious food and gratitude, I can’t help but be blown away by the generosity of others. Of “strangers” that I’ve come to know are anything but strange. I have firmly come to believe in my travels that these “strangers” are merely friends I have yet to make, and I’m amazed at how much this attitude is internalized and appreciated by others. How one coincidental meeting, several conversations, and one new friendship developed over the course of two days could turn into a welcoming invitation into a safe place for me to stay for a few hours in an hour of desperation.
It’s times like these that I’m reminded again of why I travel—the people. Making these connections with “strangers” and learning about the deeper way-of-being behind the relationships we make. Trusting in others and learning the power of adapting to the moment that makes for the best stories and memories. I’ve heard it said that it takes an hour to like someone, a day for you to love them, and a lifetime to forget them. I know that I’ll never forget the kindness that’s been shown to me in my travels, and especially this past experience with Daniela and his family, and I hope in turn try to look for opportunities where I can extend that same arm of friendship to those in their hour of need. These people have been guiding lights helping me through some of my most difficult and scary times, complete strangers who help restore my faith in humanity and once again begin to trust and know that peace is indeed possible.

Trust is a gift, a doorway to understanding and being understood.
 
What a great way to be welcomed into Italy.

 ----------


Strange is not a word
I allow myself to know
Aloud, I say friend.