Holding it Together

So today's blog will focus on a typical day in the life of Kate Redden as she goes about her business in Turkey. Ok, truthfully this will only cover 1/2 of my day because I'm tired and I'm having trouble typing due to a pinky injury. Here goes anyway...
We start at 7 am. I say goodbye to Tim and am thankful I don't have to make him a lunch. I like the idea of being a good wife and making him a lunch, but hate the actual physical process of the lunch making. It is is my lucky day, as he has leftover Popeye's Chicken from dinner last night (for many of you this will not be a surprise.) This is the same chicken that the Popeye's people forgot to put in our carryout bag last night and we got home to find 3 drinks, 1 side of coleslaw and some mashed potatoes. Though this was 9:30 pm, my chicken-obsessed husband declared,"I didn't pay 21 lira for chicken I don't get to eat. We're going back." So, I mournfully looked down at my own carb-free meal (note: I have not been eating carbs this week and when you haven't been eating carbs and you wait til 9:30 to eat, you get a little crazy) and dutifully hopped in the car to retrieve the lost chicken.
But I digress. So, I sent Tim on his way, after he encouraged me to try and pay the rent on my own today. This may sound like a mundane, easy task. In Turkey it is not. If only it were so easy as clicking a few buttons and paying on-line (it is important to let you know you can't even pay your internet bill on-line, however you can order a Supersize meal from McDonalds on-line and have it arrive by scooter to your door in 20 minutes). I worked up my courage and told Tim I would indeed pay our rent. I was going to be brave. After all, I need to make good on what I said in my blog yesterday:)
So I hopped in a cab and headed to school to pick up our car. I walked onto the base and showed my ID. I'm always very aware that all eyes are on me as I make my grand entrance (please say that with a french accent). Many of those whose eyes are on me are holding M-16's. It's not that I'm scared or anything, it's just weird to be the center of attention like that. I always have a grand fear of doing something stupid in front of a group (I get this from my mother). And let's face it folks, I don't really blend. They will notice. So as all eyes are on me, I start to adjust my shirt and feel a bit of skin. Yikes! I was supposed to feel denim. I subtlely hike my jeans up, while simulatneously realizing that they are a bit loose-a combination of a carb-free eating plan this week and the fact that I have worn them without washing them several time. I realize, at this point, I need to physically kind of hold them up on one side. I also realize I have about 1/2 mile to walk while doing this. I also realize that a formation of about 30-40 soldiers have fallen in behind me, all saying in unison (left, left, left, right, left). Well, they were really saying "sol, sol, sol, sag sol" (excuse the spelling Turkish speakers). They were gaining on me, so I increased my speed, while trying to hold up my pants without anyone behind me noticing. Thankfully, they finally veered off and an I proceeded to the school at the back of the base.
I poked my head in Tim's class to get the keys, headed back to the car and was off on my city adventure. I knew the route had a couple round-abouts and these scare me. I mean just driving in a straight line is complicated here (no one drives straight and there aren't designated lanes). But, I successfully navigated to the bank and parked in an open, gravel parking lot. I crossed the street (nervously and still holding my pants up) and found the unmarked door of the building the bank was in. With a very large wad of American dollars in my wallet (this is how you have to do it), I climbed 4 flights of steps til I reached a dark, sturdy looking door. I rang the buzzer to be let in. I thought I might have to give a password or something (and I didn't know the Turkish word for swordfish). I was granted entrance and the security guard asked what I wanted. I had no earthly idea how to say "I'm here to pay my rent." So I blurted out, "I'm here to pay my rent." Again, all eyes on me- the one with the droopy drawers. The one who took 2 months of Turkish and the result is that I speak Turklish (Turkish and English) with a bit of French, German, pictionary, and charades mixed in. A lady motions me to her window and I hand her the wad of cash and a paper with all the information needed to pay my rent. None of it needs to even be translated. I get a blank stare and a shrug of the shoulders, like "What am I supposed to do." After a colleague came to check into the matter, he too had a furrowed brow. This is a bit strange since Tim has come into pay his rent every month for 2 1/2 years-same account and everything. Anyway, things finally clicked and I tried to reclaim my Turkish language pride by bidding them "Iyi gunler" or "Have a good day."
Back in the car, I tried to backtrack to the school. However, I got caught in the whirlpool of the round-about and missed my turn. Good ole' Kate, though, figured it out and found a shortcut. Not only that, I had successfully paid my rent and my pants never fell down all the way. And on top of it, my jeans were loose! It turned out to be a good day afterall. Sometimes it's the little things that matter most. Now, I think I'll go reward myself with a brownie:)