The New 'Do

Spring is trying to spring here in Istanbul; Saturday was a crisp, clear day with more sun than the city has seen in a long while. It was also Salon Day for Karen, Christina and me and in a fit of spring celebration, I cut off all my hair. Okay, not all of it, but it is the shortest I remember ever having it.

Me, Christina, and Karen with our new 'dos

Turkish women are a high maintenance bunch so the salon is quite the event. Remember the scene from The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy and crew get cleaned up for their audience with the Wizard - with all sorts of people doing all sorts of primping to them at the same time? A high end Turkish salon is much the same. At any given time, you may have upwards of 5 people working on you - 3-4 working on your hair (the main stylist and a couple of "interns" whose job it is to hold the blow dryer for the stylist), 1 giving you a manicure/pedicure, and one shaping your eyebrows. It is a common to watch a woman with the above noted entourage working on her while she chats away on her cell phone, deigning to notice the people working on her just long enough to give directions to the stylist from time to time, while sipping on a diet Coke.

Salon Day, while definitely needed, had another purpose - preparing for the Presidential visit happening in April. Hair is being styled, clothes are being purchased, and the entire consulate is in a state of mostly-organized chaos. Visits of this magnitude are labor intensive to say the least. It has been amazing to watch all the moving parts - motorcade, baggage control, passport control, site selection - come together. The folks at the consulate definitely know what they are doing - official visits are nothing new to them and they all have similar needs regardless of level. Nevertheless, the next few weeks are going to be very busy!

What Is Art?

Not since the days of following Dad and Garth through weekend art shows in Denver (guys, you know the ones I'm talking about - over by the stadium), have I spent so much time going to art shows. Viewing art in Istanbul is always worth it. If the art is not my thing, there is always the venue - an ancient water cistern, a warehouse-turned-art-museum on the Bosphorus, a tiny gallery tucked away on a back street. And there are is always, always people watching!

Saturday evening found me at a collaborative art exhibit by Take Me To The River (http://www.tmttr.org/) which was focused on water and our relationship with water. And Sunday I headed down to the Istanbul Modern art museum to view the "In Praise of Shadows" exhibit which includes work by Kara Walker (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kara_walker and http://learn.walkerart.org/karawalker).

I didn't find the Take Me To The River exhibit to be very interesting and I can't say more about why than that it didn't make me think about anything. At least not about the art itself. I did find watching the people viewing the art to be rather interesting.

The work by Kara Walker at the Istanbul Modern was thought provoking and very raw. Her work discusses the brutality of slavery in shadow cut-outs. These cut-outs are, at the same time, very detailed and very vague. Full-size, black cut-outs on a white wall. The outlines show hair, teeth, bone, but it is just the outline, the shadow. As I looked at her work, I wondered how the Turks were viewing it. Did they see the emotion there, the brutality, the power battles? Was it reinforcing broad overviews of slavery in America? How do they view something that is so much a part of someone else's history? How does anyone? How does it effect them, having not yet traveled this far down their own country's brutal past? I was too captive by my own response to the images on the walls to step back and observe other's reactions to it. Perhaps I will go back to watch people viewing the art.

These trips have raised, for me, the eternal art questions - what is it and how do people view it? To answer the last of those, I've started watching people view it. Just watching. How do they move around a particular exhibit? Are there common reactions to it or does it effect everyone differently? Some people approach art methodically. They take their time, move around the piece, see it from different angles. Others park themselves in front of it and stare. Still others look at it quickly and move on, sometimes making several passes by one piece or the whole exhibit.

The first question is harder to answer. And I think that is as it should be. Art should, at the end, evoke a personal reaction. The reaction does not have to be good or bad, one of acceptance or denial, but it does have to be a reaction. If there is no reaction then it is not art.

The Final List

Last Friday I took the leap and submitted my bid list to my Career Development Officer (CDO). There were some last minute modifications to the official list - Baghdad was added and Port-Au-Prince made a reappearance after being dropped off. I had to bid on 15 of the 27 offered and had to rank them as High, Medium, or Low. Here is my final list (city, country, and office):

High
1. Baghdad, Iraq RSO
2. Tegucigalpa, Honduras RSO
3. Algiers, Algieria RSO

Medium
4. Accra, Ghanna RSO

Low
5. Port-Au-Prince, Haiti POL
6. Jakarta, Indonesia ROVER
7. Lima, Peru ECON
8. Lima, Peru RSO
9. Managua, Nicaragua RSO
10. Kuwait, Kuwait ECON
11. Brussels, Belgium ECON
12. Mexico City, Mexico POL
13. Guatemala, Guatemala RSO
14. Quito, Ecuador RSO
15. Beijing, China RSO

Offices
RSO = Regional Security Office
POL = Political Affairs Office
ROVER = Roving position between several offices
ECON = Economic Affairs Office

There are days when I get pretty attached to my list, especially the top 3, and can't imagine going anywhere else but for the most I don't feel as though I have much invested in it. Because I don't. The decision will be made solely based on my departure date from Istanbul and the brief narratives I submitted with my top choices, without any feedback regarding my job performance or input from my supervisors or peers. So now I wait. Hopefully I will hear back from my CDO in mid-April.

Chasing the Northern Lights

Ah, Valentines Day! What better way to spend the ultimate romantic holiday than tramping through the snow with snowshoes strapped to your feet and your Valentine by your side (occasionally pushing you into snow drifts)? Jason and I certainly couldn't think of one so we headed waaaaaay up north to Tromso, Norway to chase the Northern Lights and play in the snow for a few days.

Things weren't looking so good for viewing the Northern Lights when we landed in Tromso - the sky was a heavy gray and showed no sign of clearing up. But we hopped in the tour van all the same and, after picking up a few more people, headed outside the city and away from the city lights. The weather in that area proved to be very localized and we were soon cruising along under starry skies. We were not disappointed!

What you may not know about the Northern Lights is how coy they are. As we drove from one viewing spot to another, they would appear over the tree tops, often fading as soon as we got out of the van, only to reappear brightly once we had started driving again. They are eerily beautiful - wide streaks of ghostly green flowing across the night sky as oil flows down a slow moving river, caught in the ebb and flow of the currents of the universe.

There was also snowshoeing! An activity I love but haven't done in years! Next time we make our way up north, I would like to combine the two - snowshoeing and chasing the Northern Lights. Get my exercise and be humbled by the mysteries of the nature at the same time!

When we weren't looking at the sky or playing in the snow, we were staying warm and eating ourselves silly at the breakfast buffet (who knew Swedish meatballs, beans, and crepes with raspberry sauce could be so incredibly yummy for breakfast?).

While the natural beauty of the area was striking, the town is not nearly so. It feels very much like the college town that it is (home to the northern most university). Not there there weren't opportunities for photos!

So Many Choices! My Head Hurts.

The rain is streaking down the windows and I'm staring at my bid list - the list of posts with positions open in a year, one of which will be my next home - and hoping a clear choice will come to me. Of course, the final decision is not mine; my Career Development Officer will place me and the rest of my training group in posts as she see appropriate. What is up to me is how I rank the positions, how I bid them. The initial rush to research the places and jobs has worn off; I have gathered all the information I care to (which, for some, is shockingly little). Now I stare. I stare at the list, at my current rankings and try not to think about them. The choices will come to me, as they always do, if I don't push too hard. All I have to do is keep staring.

So I don't kill the cat with too much curiosity, here is the complete list:
Tegucigalpa, Honduras
Algiers, Algeria
Jakarta, Indonesia
Accra, Ghana
Lima, Peru
Managua, Nicaragua
Kuwait, Kuwait
Brussels, Belgium
Guatemala City, Guatemala
Mexico City, Mexico
Quito, Ecuador
Beijing, China
Guangzhou, China
Amman, Jordan
Berlin, Germany
Dhaka, Bangladesh
Cairo, Egypt
Istanbul, Turkey
Shanghai, China
Rabat, Morocco
Kathmandu, Nepal
Bujumbura, Burundi
Washington D.C.

Jason was here last weekend. Events included (but were not limited to), hosting a dinner party, lounging on the couch, and checking out the new Taps bar - one of the few microbreweries in Istanbul.

Cool Mirror vs. Reality Shot (Laura, Brandon, Karen, Preeti, Jason)


Karen, Peter, and Laura


Don't Laugh, Karen! It's the Preeti Monster!


Rock On!

Ikea Entourage

There's a new player in town - the Consul General's (CG's) new OMS, Judy, arrived Thursday evening. Her arrival means we are now up to a full strength OMS team and we are very happy about that.

Judy's arrival also prompted an invitation to have a welcome lunch with the CG and her husband at their house Saturday. It was a delightful lunch and when the CG invited us on an after-lunch outing to the Asian side, none could refuse. And what an outing it turned out to be! We started at a decorator's strip mall of sorts looking for upholstery fabric then made our way over to Ikea (yes, Ikea. Istanbul boasts not one, but two! I thought Karen was going to pee her pants with excitement - the good Scandinavian that she is - and I will admit to a flutter of excitement at the prospect of following those black floor arrows through the maze of pre-fab). Now, this may seem like a typical errand-running afternoon, but let me add a couple things to the mix - 1) We were in Asia! We went from Europe to Asia to run errands. Asia is right there! Right across the Bosphorus. I can see it out my window! That continues to amaze me. And 2) the CG runs errands, in fact lives her life here, with a 2-Suburban motorcade and a 2-bodyguard security detail (before some of you raise an eyebrow at that, it is all standard operating procedure for anyone her level or higher). So there I was, part of the CG's entourage, making our way through the chaos that is Ikea, putting tealights, suction-cupped kitchen brushes, and dish towels in our yellow bags, flanked by her bodyguards with the motorcade waiting for us at the curb. I am confident it was the safest trip to Ikea ever!

Three Little Words

Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes! We! Can!

Discoveries

The last time I saw my aunt Connie, she gave me a couple mixing bowls I recognized from my grandma's kitchen. For a long time, these bowls have sat in the china cabinet, only be brought out occasionally as salad bowls. But recently I pulled them out and moved them to the kitchen cabinet with the rest of the mixing bowls and casserole dishes. I'm using them frequently now, and every time I do I feel a connection to my grandma and my aunts - the women in whose kitchens we have all gathered as a family time and time again to gossip, play cards, laugh, console, and always, always eat; the women whose ability to make huge, delicious meals appear seemingly out of nowhere created a space for family bonds to be strengthened, renewed, remembered. Through these bowls, the green one and the bigger yellow one, I imagine myself becoming like my father's sisters and mother, turning my kitchen into a place of laughter, love, life, and of course, food.


In order to combat the doldrums of winter, I've made a pact with some friends to get out on the weekends and partake of something, anything, Istanbul has to offer (which is an astonishing amount) - a museum, a mosque, a cay garden, a new restaurant. Today's outing was to the Rahmi M. Koc (pronounced "Koch") Industrial Museum which is basically a place for Mr. Koc to house all his collectibles - cars, boats, train engines and cars, planes, and even a submarine. Since Mr. Koc is the richest man in Turkey, the collection was impressive if not all that surprising. While it was not the things of industry that drew us there this morning, we found ourselves at the very least amused and glad we took the time to go through the museum. What did, however, draw us there was a distinctly non-industrial exhibit of miniature rooms by Henry Kupjack. For my part, I will admit my skepticism of "dollhouses" as art but I was pleasantly surprised. While I'm still not willing to call it art, I am willing to concede its appeal. "Intricate" and "detailed" do not begin to describe Mr. Kupjack's work. Whatever your feelings, there is no denying the time, skill, and dedication that went into each room (a 1950s diner, a 1970s SoHo artist's loft, to name a couple that I can remember the dates on). I found myself intrigued by the rooms (about 19 in all). These are not just dollhouses. They are complete in every detail - windows look out onto appropriate scenes, rooms flow through doors into other rooms just as complete in detail, doors have molded frames, windows have lace curtains, tables have bowls of "berries". The catch is you don't view these rooms as though you were viewing a dollhouse from every angle. Rather you view them as though through a window. You must bob from side to side to catch glimpses of portraits over fireplaces or the skylight at the top of a staircase. You become a voyeur peeping in on a scene you are not a part of.

Why, might you ask, was a miniaturist being showcased at an industrial museum. Simply put, commission. Mr. Koc is a fan and commissioned Mr. Kupjack to do a miniature of an Ottoman coffeehouse. So there the exhibit is - complete with the requested coffeehouse.

After viewing the miniatures and being quite surprised by them, we continued the search for the best museum cafe in Istanbul. This may be difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain. They have all been quite wonderful and the French cafe at the Koc museum was no exception. And, to top off a great outing, I now know where to get some really good French onion soup.

Rahmi M. Koc Museum - http://www.rmk-museum.org.tr/english/index.html
Henry Kupjack - http://www.rmk-museum.org.tr/sergi-2008/index-eng.html

Long Coming Update

After a long hiatus, I'm back. Why the long silence? I really can't say; the muse just hasn't been with me, I suppose. I'm not sure she is with me again yet either, but sometimes you have to drag her back to you through sheer force of creative will. So here I go, asserting my creative will. . .

It's a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon here in Istanbul. I've just sat down for a mid-afternoon snack and am asking myself, as I always do every time I sit down with this particular snack, "Turkish breakfast, where have you been all my life?" How could I, the cucumber and tomato loving person I am never have thought to combine those with slices of feta cheese? Not all mixed up like a salad, mind you, but each - deliciously strong cheese, tomato, and cucumber - all layed out in beautiful slices on the plate. Toss a few tangy olives on there and I'm in heaven!

So, other than Turkish breakfast, what has been going on in my life? As with every holiday season, the last couple of months have been paradoxically slow and fast. Work is slow this time of year, but it seems like I was in Oslo a couple weeks ago rather than the couple of months its actually been. I was there for the Marine Ball - the annual celebration of the Marine Corps' birthday. In embassy/consulate world, this is usually done with a big, formal ball. I got a fancy dress, new shoes (of course!), packed my bag and headed to Norway to attend the ball with, appropriately, my Marine Jason. For a girl who never went to prom or homecoming, the night was full of nerves, excitement, and the realization that there really is something to the whole man-in-uniform thing.

Thanksgiving rolled around rather quickly after my return from Oslo and, yes, there was turkey in Turkey! Copious amounts of it, in fact, spread over two Thanksgiving celebrations. The first was hosted at the consulate by the American employees for the local employees. We served about 180 people that day and nobody left with less than a full stomach! On Thanksgiving day, I and some of the other Holiday Orphans (those of us without family here) spent the day surrounded by consulate families and marveling at how similar holiday dinners are across the board. Christmas was much the same though with fewer people and ham (such a luxury!) instead of turkey. I am very grateful to the families who opened their home to those of us far away from our own families.

New Year's Eve was a quiet, though drunken, affair here at The Dorm (as those of us who live here affectionately call our building. We routinely shuffle from apartment to apartment in slippers and sweats). I spent the evening with Preeti and Karen gossiping, solving the problems of the world, making resolutions, eating, and drinking. We all made it to midnight and beyond, which I'll admit, is a rare occurrence in my life anymore.

There. I think you're now caught up on my life. I'll put serious effort into actually updating this sucker from time to more-frequent time.