Every expat can understand the sentimental roller coaster of life in a society not your own. Moments of pure joy at achieving something as simple as getting basic utilities can quickly be followed by the lowest of lows as you realize that, no matter how hard you try and how much you learn, you will never be a native and you will always be encountering new difficulties. After four stints abroad, I figured that I'd be able to weather the roller coaster ride of my time in Madrid without many problems. For the most part, this has been true.
Over the past week, however, I came to realize the degree to which my roller coaster was "coasting" along in a straight line devoid of excitement. In all aspects of my life, whether professional, personal or social, I became overly settled into a routine. Starting last Wednesday in Valladolid, the Fulbright Commission held a mid-year conference for all the American grantees in Spain. This conference brought together not only all of the teaching assistants from the three regions where we are placed, but also visiting lecturers and researchers. (Also, they provided loads of free wine!) For three days, we discussed the problems that we are facing, but more importantly, we focused on solutions. We talked about useful teaching techniques, effective classroom management, and how to manage in a system that many times doesn't know what to do with us.
Also: Wine tasting in a cellar underneath a castle. There was that.
As someone who has often been relegated to a human dictionary in the corner of the room this was vitally important. The best part was that it reminded me why I had come in the first place. It reminded me that extra work and creativity pays off not only in student success, but in less stress and exhaustion for me. The days that I am able to present and engage with students are far less tiring for me than the days that I sit unused, but especially recently, I had forgotten that and failed to make the efforts that aren't demanded by some of my teachers.
Watching the presentations of researchers and engaging in conversations with my fellow grantees, I was awakened to another aspect of my coasting: I have been living my life at a middle school ESL level. It's hard to fully explain what I mean by this, but I'll use the example of language. Even though teachers at my school speak English quite well, my English speech has transformed and become more limited. I learn to eliminate phrasal verbs (i.e. make it, make it up, make up for it, make of it, make for it, make it out, etc... our language is a minefield of absurd complexities that we don't think about.) and I often choose one word over another, more natural choice simply to improve comprehension (i.e. "kind" in Spanish is "tipo," so the English cognate "type" draws fewer blank stares). As for my high level vocabulary, it has all but disappeared. Even my ideas are simplified in order to convey them to an age unable to abstract in the same way. Seeing people that spent all of their days intensely studying and writing reminded me of the amazing communities of English academia, but also alerted me to my inability to function at the same level in Spanish.
A day in my life
Finally, their presentations also simply reminded of all that there is in the world to learn. Whether researching cancer cells and inhibitor drugs, scouring archives of imperial Spain, or looking at a booming new culture of social entrepreneurship, all of them were doing amazing, stimulating work. I live in an amazing metropolis of 3 million people with countless cultural centers full of untapped knowledge at my fingertips. I take Arabic classes, but put little effort into them. I live just 5 minutes from 2 of the best art museums in the world (that I can access for free), yet I never visit them. My neighborhood is known for its plays and live music and informational exhibitions, yet I end up taking a long siesta after school and staying home.
There is a Spanish word, "aprovechar," that I always use as an example of the inadequacy of translation. The best equivalent in English is "to take advantage of something," but it is an idea that I feel is only fully expressed in Spanish. It is about finding the good, finding the joy, and finding the benefit in everything. You can "aprovechar" a meal or a class or a journey, even a bad experience. It's something that, in my stagnant routine, I've stopped doing. Today, on my first full day back in Madrid, I woke up, and threw the windows open to enjoy the beautiful 70 degree, cloudless weather. I called my friends and made eggs and pancakes for brunch, then cleaned before heading out on a walk to explore parts of my barrio that I've never visited. Within 2 hours, I'd been to two major (free) cultural centers that have beautiful work spaces and resources that I'd never known about. Seeing everyone out in the park, drawn outside by the wonderful first days of spring, gave me even more energy for the coming weeks and reminded me that if I can "aprovechar" two hours that much, just imagine what I can do with my entire time here.
New resolutions start best with pancakes, eggs, and fruit
So the story of the last month and a half begins roughly… well, a month and a half ago. After the first term of my school year flew by, my family arrived to celebrate Navidad with me here in Madrid. Long story short: I was sick but nonetheless had an amazing week. To top off the fun, I gave them the parting gift of my illness, so they were all able to fondly remember me in the following weeks back home.
The day after everyone departed, I left on my own journey: New Year’s in Istanbul. There are few cities that have called to me in the way that Istanbul has over the past several years. As a student of international relations focused on Europe and the Middle East, Istanbul has always been a natural destination. The “East meets West” stereotype is a bit overdone, but in many ways, accurate. Where else can you take a 10 minute ferry from Europe to Asia, see Baroque palaces alongside towering mosques, and walk from classical European shopping promenades into crowded, chaotic bazaars?
As I thought about what to expect, my mind jumped to my previous experience in the “Muslim world,” namely my stay in Morocco. Clearly, the two are miles apart, both literally and figuratively, but many similarities remain. As the sun rose on our first day, I heard the call to prayer coming from the Blue Mosque, very near to our hostel. As I went upstairs for breakfast, I could hear it echoing all across the city. In Morocco, the muezzin had always been a comforting reminder of the passing of the day and of a general cultural focus on something beyond the daily grind. Though Turkish and Arabic are significantly different, there were also a large number of borrowed words from Arabic that helped considerably in navigating the city. (The Ottoman Turkish everywhere, written in Arabic script, certainly didn’t help my frequent urge to respond to modern Turkish speakers in Arabic.)
The Blue Mosque as viewed from the hostel's rooftop terrace
One difference was clear as soon as we left the airport, when I saw a large billboard advertising Efes, the local beer. In Morocco, alcohol is available for tourists, but otherwise largely nonexistent and looked down upon. Thus, in Istanbul, it was a bit jarring to see streets full of bars, but eventually I found Efes to be an excellent companion to quiet evenings in the rooftop café of our hostel. Also famous is the traditional anise liquor called raki, but one sip was enough for me. I’ve always considered black licorice to be a crime against humanity, and turns out that I feel much the same way about its drinkable alcoholic flavor twin.
Unfortunately, the experience of the lovely rooftop café of our hostel was slightly marred by an overenthusiastic hostel worker convinced that he was in fact working at a nightclub. I came to this conclusion after the first night, when he started blasting his “cool” music for the crowd of four of us who had previously been peacefully reading. He gave us a huge smile and started moving with the music. We gave him a glare and started moving downstairs. A note on “cool” music in Turkey: it’s quite similar to the Arab world. That is, it consists primarily of the most recent pop hits from Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and DJ-whatever, with occasional breaks for absurdly melodramatic music videos in the local language. Luckily for me, I was able to understand one word (lütfen=please) of the latest heart-breaking chart topper and it will forever be burned into my brain. For a taste of the drama, see the video below.
As for the sites, there are many, but one deserves mention above all the others. In the 6th century, when Istanbul was Byzantium, capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, Emperor Justinian I decided to build a church that would be the crown jewel of Christendom. The result was the Hagia Sophia. Having studied the building extensively in one of my college classes, it was the most anticipated part of my trip, but no class could have prepared me for the awe I felt upon entering. The Hagia Sophia is today a secular museum, but was converted into a mosque during the Ottoman Empire, and consequently many of its greatest mosaics were plastered over (due to Islamic prohibitions against art depicting humans). Even with the loss of this artwork, the beauty of the building remains obvious. The coexistence of Christian and Muslim symbols is fascinating on its own, but each of them also bring their own appeal. The fact that such a massive structure was completed in only 5 years, a full millennium before architectural masterpieces like the Vatican, is simply beyond belief.
For brevity’s sake, I’ll stop here. If you want to hear about the cruise on the Bosphorus. my visits to the Asian side of the city, daily fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice, baklava oozing with honey and pistachios, Turkish coffees by the water, fish sandwiches right off the boat, and all my other adventures, you’ll just have to ask me about it (or see my pictures).
Oh and the New Year? I rang it in in cold, drizzling rain with my fellow Fulbrighter and two Aussies on Galata Bridge, watching fireworks go off on two different continents as the fishermen by our side carried on with their work, indifferent to the passage of time.
Sunset over the Bosphorus with the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque in the distance.
