Last night I had dinner with 10 children and 4 adults. Yes, this is my idea of vacation. You could call me crazy. You could call me slightly unstable. I call me a family...woman? Can I say that? We'll just go with it. So yes, my idea of a relaxing vacation is to go to Kapadokya and stay at a friend's house with her husband and 6 children. This morning I woke up early, had coffee, helped put chocolate spread and jam on at least 10 pieces of toast (but not on the same piece of toast - sugar rush!), and now I'm sitting listening to two boys younger than 5 discuss possible names for their toy cars.
But I digress...
I've been pondering what I'm doing here. If I'm forever a language student, people will forever treat me like a 19 year old. This treatment could also have something to do with the reality that at 31 years old I look at most like I'm 25. (Last night a 5 year old did guess that I was 75. The guess was preceded by 12 and followed by 62.) They will then try to give me all kinds of advice, tell me what I should and should not be doing, and believe that when I say slightly mind-boggling things that I just don't know the language well enough yet.
The question then comes up - do they do this because I look young, because I don't have a job, or because they are of a culture that loves to give advise? Or, as my friend just reminded me, because of pride? Or...the list of questions in my mind goes on and on and on.
I could be an eternal student. Go back to school for the second bachelor's degree, go on to get a master's degree in linguistics, a doctorate in linguistics, and then become a crazy old linguistics professor at a university somewhere. But then, how much of my time would that take? I have a friend who is getting her doctorate here. Unbelievable amounts of work are happening in her life. It's good. But is that what I want?
Last night over Mexican pile-up, one new acquaintance asked me if I like to write. Amazing! I do indeed love writing. The recommendation was for me to write about life here. It's now another idea stewing around in my mind.
If I choose to go this route, I may need to buy a thesaurus....
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Running in Ankara
Yesterday I ran my first 10k ever. Actually it was a 10.8k, but whose counting? (We are, of course...) It was also my first race in Turkey and my first race in any foreign country.
It all started a month or so ago when I found out I would have to get a lisans in order to run the Büyük Atatürk Koşusu, aka the Great Ataturk Race. I would translate this word lisans, but I'm not sure if it means a license, a diploma or something else. All you French speakers out there, let me know what it means in French. Then I'll maybe be able to give you a good translation in Turkish. I learned that getting a lisans to be an athlete is not hard, but it does help to know someone. My second time going to the Ministry of Youth and Sports I knew someone! One of the guys I run with just happened to be waiting on paperwork. We chatted. I told him what I needed my lisans for. He gave my paperwork to the guy behind the counter. And ten minutes later I had my lisans and the necessary information for the race. In Turkey it really is all about who you know.
I realize I look a bit scary in said lisans. And no, Ferdi is not some weird sort of disease or even a club name. It means I run independently.
Lisans in hand, in word an athlete, in reality just a person who enjoys the fact that she can run again, I was ready to make the call and register for the race.
I made the call and found out I would have to attend a meeting the night before the race. Hmm. This is new. The only race I'd ever run in the States was Only Fools Run at Midnight in Juneau about 10 years ago. No meetings happened before that race. Of course there was also no cumulative prize purse of 2,000+ TL.
Monday night I walked into the meeting. I'd run into (almost literally) one of the guys from the track on my way in. And we walked into a room full of men in black coats. I don't remember actually seeing a woman in the room at that point. Later I looked around and saw a few other women. By the time the called us up to sign up for our numbers I knew there were at least 8 other women in the room. I ended up with number 8 and a woman behind me in line was waiting for number 10. In total 38 women ran the race.
Race day. The race was set to start at 14:20. Buses left the stadium to go to the race start at 12:30. I was there at 12. All told, preparation for the actual event took longer than it took me to run the route. Riding the bus was an experience. I wish I could accurately describe it all - from the bus that was supposed to be for women but was mixed to the guy who apparently runs every year and is convinced that there is some sort of scandal going on in the Turkish Athleticism Federation.
At the race start I wandered around, chewed the fat with people from the track, and received an over sized sweatshirt with Ataturk's face on it that I was informed our group would be wearing during the race. It ended up being a little like running in a dress.
The race started. And for me it ended around 56 minutes later. I had promised a girl friend of mine from the track that I would run with the other guys in our group. And so I did. At least until the last 2 km or so. Another moment of "the group is more important the individual". At the end they released me with much heckling. We'll see if they're mad a me or not when it comes to hit the track Tuesday.
56 minutes of running and my first 10k in Turkey was over. I think I'll do it again. Antalya, March 4th.
It all started a month or so ago when I found out I would have to get a lisans in order to run the Büyük Atatürk Koşusu, aka the Great Ataturk Race. I would translate this word lisans, but I'm not sure if it means a license, a diploma or something else. All you French speakers out there, let me know what it means in French. Then I'll maybe be able to give you a good translation in Turkish. I learned that getting a lisans to be an athlete is not hard, but it does help to know someone. My second time going to the Ministry of Youth and Sports I knew someone! One of the guys I run with just happened to be waiting on paperwork. We chatted. I told him what I needed my lisans for. He gave my paperwork to the guy behind the counter. And ten minutes later I had my lisans and the necessary information for the race. In Turkey it really is all about who you know.
I realize I look a bit scary in said lisans. And no, Ferdi is not some weird sort of disease or even a club name. It means I run independently.Lisans in hand, in word an athlete, in reality just a person who enjoys the fact that she can run again, I was ready to make the call and register for the race.
I made the call and found out I would have to attend a meeting the night before the race. Hmm. This is new. The only race I'd ever run in the States was Only Fools Run at Midnight in Juneau about 10 years ago. No meetings happened before that race. Of course there was also no cumulative prize purse of 2,000+ TL.
Monday night I walked into the meeting. I'd run into (almost literally) one of the guys from the track on my way in. And we walked into a room full of men in black coats. I don't remember actually seeing a woman in the room at that point. Later I looked around and saw a few other women. By the time the called us up to sign up for our numbers I knew there were at least 8 other women in the room. I ended up with number 8 and a woman behind me in line was waiting for number 10. In total 38 women ran the race.
Race day. The race was set to start at 14:20. Buses left the stadium to go to the race start at 12:30. I was there at 12. All told, preparation for the actual event took longer than it took me to run the route. Riding the bus was an experience. I wish I could accurately describe it all - from the bus that was supposed to be for women but was mixed to the guy who apparently runs every year and is convinced that there is some sort of scandal going on in the Turkish Athleticism Federation.
At the race start I wandered around, chewed the fat with people from the track, and received an over sized sweatshirt with Ataturk's face on it that I was informed our group would be wearing during the race. It ended up being a little like running in a dress.
The race started. And for me it ended around 56 minutes later. I had promised a girl friend of mine from the track that I would run with the other guys in our group. And so I did. At least until the last 2 km or so. Another moment of "the group is more important the individual". At the end they released me with much heckling. We'll see if they're mad a me or not when it comes to hit the track Tuesday.
56 minutes of running and my first 10k in Turkey was over. I think I'll do it again. Antalya, March 4th.
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