A New Routine

There are some definite differences working at a DODDs school in a foreign country. At this point, things that I at first thought were strange, I no longer even give any thought to. But every once in awhile, I still think, "this sure is different and kind of weird."
Here was my normal morning routine in the States...Leave the house and hope I'm early enough to stop at the Carribou Coffee drive-thru. If I was pressed for time, I could save a few precious minutes by 1)actually going inside rather than going through the drive-thru 2) ordering a regular coffee and not something fancy that required more time. Then, with coffee in tow, I would proceed to school, passing huge McMansions on nice, smooth new roads, with not much traffic. I would pull into my usual parking spot next to my friend, Karen, and head to my music room.
Here is my new routine in good ole Turkey (if I'm subbing). I head out the door with Tim with my empty coffee mug in tow (to be filled up at school because, horror or all horror, there are no coffee places on the way) and we pull our ridiculously heavy door shut hard, so we make sure it closes. We gingerly walk on our marble (I think, or something like it) walkway, hoping not to slip, and then proceed up a marble spiral staircase for a couple flights (really hoping not to slip). At the top of the stairs, we arrive on the street level and before walking to the car, we wave to the guard (who looks a bit disheveled from his night shift) and if it's a Turkish holiday (like yesterday-Turkish Republic Day) we dodge the giant Turkish flag that hangs right smack dab in the opening.
We walk down a bit to our car, which sits next to some of our other American neighbors' cars, in a carport type of thing. We pass some Turkish students in their school uniforms, people walking their giant dogs, and several giant pictures of Ataturk hanging from the various apartment buildings. We head to school, driving down a narrow, curvy road with cars parked on both sides of it, making it difficult for cars coming both ways to have enough space. As we wind our way through these neighborhoods, we pass little grocery stores (like mini 7-11's minus the slurpees), people headed to work (some in western clothes, some in more traditional Turkish clothes), and men carrying giant plates of simits (like thin bagels) on their heads, calling out to their customers. Sometimes these simit men will stand on the sidewalk next to a traffic light and people just roll down their window and buy their simits there. Well, I guess we do have some "drive-thrus" here in Turkey:)
We hang a left at the sign that says to "Balgat" and "Konya." We often hang a left on a red, which is ok to do here, and encouraged. After that, we find ourselves on a more major road with technically 3 lanes, but that quickly become about 5 lanes or so because, really, who cares about those lines painted on the road?:) We stay out of the right lane, mostly, because the public buses or school buses will just stop without warning to pick up their passengers.
After about 10 minutes, we've made it on to the base. We pull up, turn off the engine, pop the hood, roll the window down, and get our id ready to hand over. We exchange Good Mornings (in English or Turkish) with the guards, who know us pretty well at this point, while they look at our id's, check under the hood, in the trunk, and under the car. Then, they wave us on and tell us "Iyi gunler," or "have a good day." We drive slowly past the Turkish soldiers who are newbies and are marching in a formation, or the older higher-ups, with their more fancy uniforms.
Before driving onto the American part, we have to show our id's again. We know the guards here even better. They are usually pretty friendly and call me "Madame" and Tim "Teacher" or "Coach." Tim has played soccer with some of these guys. They let us pass, more "Iyi Gunlers" are exchanged and we park and head into school.
The kids at school are from all over, which keeps it interesting. I've always loved international schools. You get a lot of different perspectives coming into your classroom and you, even as the teacher, you end up learning a lot about other countries and cultures. Most kids speak 2 languages at the minimum. Many of their parents are pretty important. I walked into the lounge the other day and saw a parents who'd left his business card on the table. He was the "Second Secretary" for the Embassy of Uzbekistan. Our school is home to students from a lot of those countries you don't know much about. Those weird mixes of Soviet, Muslim, and Asian elements. Those "stan" countries. Some are more religiously conservative, some not so much. Many girls wear head coverings. Some struggle with the decision to or not to wear it. I think it is difficult for them in such a Western kind of environment. Often, many of the girls will start to wear the covering, then the next day not wear. They flip flop, trying to decide on their identity when they feel like they don't really belong anywhere.
It in the middle all of this exoticness, you'll see an American kid wearing a Redskins sweatshirt or Nationals t-shirt (I give those kids extra points:). That always makes me smile-just a little taste of home. Many of the kids actually moved here from Arlington, VA and we talk about our favorite restaurants from home and what schools they went to. There are several Georgians here too(both the state and the country) and that always makes Tim happy:) With them, there are other people with southern accents.:) It's funny how much the kids comment about Tim's accent. I'll ask them "Do you think Mr. Redden has a Southern accent," and they always give me an overwhelming "Yes!!" Tim is so good for those American kids who have moved around a lot. He can really relate to them, since he moved around a lot as a kid. That is a lot of why he was drawn to teaching for DODDs.
Sometimes in the middle of teaching, we'll hear "pop, pop, pop, pop." Just as I'm wondering what in the world that is, I remember it's the Turkish soldiers practicing on the shooting range. It is kind of weird because the shooting range is pretty close to us, so the sound is very loud. I'm usually the only one who flinches. The kids are so used to it,they don't even notice anymore.
For lunch, the middle school and high school kids have access to the BX or commissary for lunch. The commissary is like an American grocery store and the BX, is like a food court.
When school is over, everyone takes a bus, or their parents pick them up. There are no high schoolers driving themselves to and from school. Buses certainly aren't the big yellow ones we are used to in the States. They look more like vans.
Tim and I usually split up at the end of the day. I rush home to teach piano lessons, while he stays and works on his endless amount of stuff. I arrive home and the guard asks me how I am. Since I am no longer studying Turkish and using English all day long, I usually can't think of my answer quick enough. Lately, I've said some really ridiculous things in Turkish, thinking I've said the right thing. The guard usually laughs and I smile smugly thinking I've said something clever and he is amused by the fact I said it in Turkish. Au contraire. Several minutes later, it dawns on me what I've said I feel like an idiot. Here are 2 examples...
Guard: Nasilsiniz, Kate? (How are you, Kate?)
Me: Ben unutuyorum. (I forget)

Note: I meant to say "I'm tired," but I mixed up my verbs.

Guard: Nasilsiniz, Kate?
Me: Ben ilac. (I'm medicine)

I mixed up the word for medicine and sick. Oops.

Well, folks, time to wrap this entry up. This is way too long! Just wanted you to have sneak peak into parts of our day:) Things surely have changed!