Home Sweet Home

When I first arrived in Istanbul last April, it seemed massive and insurmountable. The streets and buildings flowed ceaselessly over and around the hills of Europe and Asia like spilled milk. The Bosphorus appeared to me as a giant levy holding the shops and streets and restaurants and apartments back from sprawling into the water, too. When I shut my eyes, I could imagine the buildings doubling and doubling into numbers too many for the banks to hold and falling one by one into the waterway, building upon building until the channel was plugged with a sea of malls and petrol stations. The more I've travelled in Istanbul, however, the more I've gotten to see that the take over of the Bosphorus is not necessary. Not when the city has no limits.

The two bridges that connect the continents seemed like too weak of ties for a city of almost 20 million, most of which live in Asia but travel to Europe everyday for work. "A one hour commute is normal," said one of my first coworkers who made that very commute, "you get used to it." I thought forty minutes was extreme then, and now it takes me the average Istanbul hour just to get to school. She was right though, you do get used to it.

Europe seemed like the best of Istanbul. Not only did it have all of the cool history, old buildings and beautiful views, it also had a nightlife with neat bars, good music, interesting people and good eateries. It had youth and vibrance, the feeling of expectance. There was always some protest on Istikal, and always some day to curse or celebrate. It seemed like you were always going to get scammed, even when you bought a soda from the bufe store. You most likely were, but you don't think about what is only going to anger you. And there was also an ever lurking danger that waited in the back streets, like the ghosts of murderers past still lingered in the doorways and broken windows. Hairs on your neck would stand up on a wrong turn, and meeting anyone - and child, a family, an old woman - would make your heart skip a beat you were so much on edge. But, that was the thrill and excitement of living in Europe. You were asking for things to happen to you.

I'm now an Asian convert. I like the structured streets (well, semi-structured, they still sprawl and one ways confuse me, but there's more order than Europe and that's close enough to "structured" for me). I like the clean area and access to parks and the view of the Prince's Islands. I like my large apartment that would be impossible to get anywhere close to Europe. I like how clean it is, that there's a big screen TV for me to watch Buffy on, that there's peace and quiet all of the time and that I can jump around my living room without the worry of creepy onlookers. I like the balcony where I play my guitar to the quiet back streets of Istanbul, the ones in Asia that don't arouse all of the hairs on my body to stand on their ends. I like 8 to 5 job I have (most days) and the people I work with. I don't like the commute, but that's apart of the life here. So without it, I guess I'd be a fake Istanbulian. I like the access to downtown if I want it, but also the access to the beach and to the nightlife of Kadikoy. I like the friends I've made here and the people I've gotten to meet. I like that I've gotten to do all of this with Brendan, and I love the world we've built together. I think this is the Istanbul we were dreaming of while in Korea, and I think it's now safe to say that we can call it home sweet home.

For the time being at least...

Happy Together

It's another one of those ending-beginnings. I've finished the job from hell and started (again) a life of bliss with my B and friends. This Saturday will be four weeks since I've quit. Does not seem like it. It feels like a lifetime ago, and not even my life, someone else's. And I guess that was part of the vexation I felt there, that I wasn't living my own life. I wanted to have MY but I was stymied with a HER, THEM and WE. (I was sometimes included in the them, so I can put a 'we'- though I didn't want to be apart of that 'we' - I wanted a B and me "we'.)

Now, however, I have what I want and am very happy with it. I have a B that makes me laugh and giggle, friends that stop by to see us and that I can go see whenever I want. I have a job that allows me FREE TIME, though a foreign concept at first, I think I'm getting used to the idea. By the way, the new job is at a private school on the Asian side of Istanbul, it's called Istek Vakfi. You should google it, it's quite nice as are the people who work there. I'll be working as a kindergarten teacher there and B will be working at the primary level (grades 4 to 7). We both work at the same school, just not in the same building. Thus we travel together in the mornings and nights but get to enjoy some space at work. It's kind of perfect.

Then there's also the apartment, the huge 3 bedroom apartment with a balcony for me to play my guitar on, an extra room for B to write in or for visitors to stay in, and a gargantuan living room/dining room for us to entertain OUR friends. I sound a little braggy, I know, but really- I think I've earned a little brag time. So, it's nice and we're happy! :) And also, we'd love to entertain anyone who is thinking of a journey to Istanbul! WE HAVE ROOM!

Anyways, I think B and I are going to go on a day trip today to Sile - a small town on the Black Sea - thus, I should probably stop blabbing and get MY six-year old spirited B ready! And I suppose myself, too, of course! :) Yay for Bayram and no work this week! School starts Monday!

First day of my life

Saturday, August 6th, 2011: the first day of my life.

I'm now a free person and enjoying the freedom of saying yes and no. I say the latter a lot more now. I also like buying my own food and choosing what I want to eat. What I do is limited as of right now- as I sprained my ankle last week and again today. Thus, my life is marked by four walls again. On the bright side, they have a Brendan and lots of pillows and chocolate. I may not have freedom of movement (namely running- which I've missed almost as much as Brendan), but I have time and love and choices that are all mine and no one else's and that is the beauty of Saturday, yesterday and today and every day after. They're all mine and I get to choose how I spend them.

Also - news on the new job front: I'm pretty certain I have a new job with an elementary school! They want to hire both Brendan and myself and have offered us joint housing as well. This is very, very good news as now B and I can see more than enough of each other and have the freedom to choose not to! :P B will work as a real elementary teacher, for grades 3 to 6, and I will work as a kindergarten teacher, so children ranging in age from 4 to 6. I'm very happy with that level and excited to play more than instruct on grammar! So, yay! We have a life to look forward to! We may be successful in Istanbul yet!

Never-ending story

I want to write this before it does a one-eighty, and who knows when that could be.

Lately, the girl has been very good for me. I mean super good - so much so that I forget I'm working. And if I forget I'm working, I must be having - dare I say it - fun? I think I am. And it's a crazy thought because for the past two months I've been in what feels like the darkest pit of hell. Yet, this week, and last now that I think of it, the girl has been anything but a monster. (Apart from the day she started screaming, scratching and hitting me because she didn't want to get out of the bath. Besides that.) She's been a pretty good friend and playmate for that whole time, which makes me think - again, dare I say - she actually likes me? She may miss me when I go? And when I think about that, well, it just makes me feel bad about going - like I'm the one who is being selfish. I know I need my life back, but I think I may be getting sucked into a void deeper and scarier than hell, I believe some call it "happiness"? Others say "love"?

Whatever the correct term is for it, I definitely care about the girl. And caring is going to make going a lot harder. Lot, lot, lot, LOT harder. And what's more, today - very sweet and obviously very thoughtful because she made a point for me to hear it (like stopped on the way down the stairs when she was already late to go to the movies with her father), she said: "Thank you for everything, Jenna." I was totally not expecting such a kindness. I just looked at her and smiled and could only think to reply, "You're very welcome, Lal. That is so kind of you to say. Thank you for saying "thank you"." Then we took a few steps and she stopped again and said, "And... and I am really sorry you can't come to the movies with me and my dad." Again, I was dumbfounded and touched at such thought from what I've called "monster" for the past two months and just said, "I am, too. I'd like to see a movie with you as well, but you and your dad will have a great time together, just you two without a silly nanny around." She kind of nodded and I followed her out to the car that was waiting. And as I put her in she seemed really sad and thoughtful. I think she thinks I'm leaving soon, very soon because as the car pulled out and I waved, she just looked out the window into space, like she was not wanting to be alone anymore.

So, anyways, that was what is occurring in the daily house of chaos. I don't know what to do even more because I don't want to leave the girl. I really care for her. Yet, I just don't know if I can give my next year of life to a mad house. If it was just her, I could do it no problem. She's good, really she is. She just misses her parents, she wants them to be around and to show her attention, to love her. Right now I'm a stand-in for that and I can only imagine what it's like to change stand-ins for the sixth time in your life. It has got to be difficult to understand. I'm sure she wonders why she needs a nanny and then why none will stay with her for so long. So though she has people around her everyday all day, it hurts her to feel like none want her and love her all the time - not just when they "feel" like it or are paid to as I am. I really do care but I'm sure it's confusing to know that I'm also paid to care. Doesn't change what I feel, but to a six year old it would be difficult to understand.

Rambles galore today - sorry. Just very much in my head these days and have to put those head things some where. As here is the only place that is always in my time zone AND tells me not to shut up, I will hang my head stuff here. Anyways, another update should be soon. I'm expecting to leave here within the weekend.

Am I done yet?

It's been almost four weeks (three weeks and two days which in my book is almost 4) since I've said "Quit." But, it seems in this house "quit" doesn't mean "finished, done, kaput, take a gander at my bum while i walk out your front door," nor does it seem to mean any of those will occur in the near future. The contract (that I never signed but am holding to because I believe in honor and justice and all that) says for four weeks notice. Monday, August 8th is four weeks exactly. After that, I'm not bound to the house of crazy in any way. I can walk "legally". Yet, if they don't find a nanny by then what do I do? Do I leave them hanging with a sick grandpa 6 hours away that the mom has to go visit while dad tries to juggle the house on his own? How much do I care about the well-being of this family? They don't care one lick about me. They've proven it over and over again, and especially since I've said I'm going. Yet, I feel bad. Is that just the mid-west gentile? Should I ignore it and bolt as soon as my "contract" allows?

What's more, it's exhausting to worry over it, to worry over the girl because even though she is an annoying six year old at times, she is also very sweet and loving and in need of someone to cry to when mum isn't able to be around. So, I worry over her, I worry over leaving the family without a caregiver for the girl, I worry over my visa and finding other jobs after this, over a place to live after this. I need time next week to go into interviews and pick a school (I have three interested in me, all with similar contracts.) I need time to find an apartment as well. I've been searching online for the past week with Brendan. We keep e-mailing each other back and forth similar ad posts. Yet, we can't decide until we know where I'll work. And I don't know that until I know when I'm finished with this job. This job, however, seems never-ending. Am I done yet?!

Also, the news on the home front makes me more homesick than ever. A new person has come into the world! A little girl named Lauryn. My mom sent me a photo of her and her grandma (my aunt) and she's so adorable I want to do that pinching cheeks thing that kids hate. She's almost a week old now, but what I'd really like to do is fly home and meet her, see her brother and sister and the family. Just for a week or two.

I'd also like to pay my respects to my step-grandma who past away last week. I didn't get to visit her when I was home last and I'd like to say a goodbye though she won't really hear it. Yet, I found out that the postcard I sent (in my first wave of trials with the Turkish post) actually made it to her! I think that's some proof of a miracle! Anyways, I'm just glad she knew I cared before she was gone. I've always thought we don't do enough to show our care during life - like they always say "Don't speak ill of the dead." But what about the living? Is it okay to speak ill of them? Why give flowers to a grave when they fit much better in a life filled hand? I think maybe the small reminders of care can lift a person up, how high doesn't matter. A lift maybe all that's needed. I hope that my simple postcard did that for Glady because I'm sure kind words are much harder to hear when you're six feet under.

So, that's where I'm at these days. In limbo and awaiting news about anything. I'd like to quit and fly home on the first flight to MSP, but that's not the way I was raised. I'm not a quitter- quitter. One who lets people down and hurst others. I'm trying to end this well, it's just knowing how long it is til the end that is most trying.

I am Gollum...

I creep around the house trying not to be noticed. A creak here, a creak there and I think the vibrations begin earthquakes. I slink up the stairs from my dark, dank cellar. One, two flights then safety amongst the masticated dolls and toys who have fallen victim to the monster...

And there is a monster that lives here. No one will believe me, I doubt even you, faithful reader, but she does. She's small, yes. Beautiful, of course. Deadly, undoubtedly! She'll mame you for putting her shoe out of place, put you in iron grips for not agreeing to her capricious whims, and kill you with her mommy death-blows for making her the littlest bit angry. She is one to be watched and I am her watcher!

During the day, while mommy is away, she is demanding but fair. She rules her lair with that of the Queen of Hearts, taking those whom she trusts into her care and attacking those whom she deems traitors of the day. The hard part? She changes her mind like a deranged ferret, hopping back and forth between "feelings" and "impulses" like a mad woman. Those who try to please her fall into teddy bear prison, a not so bad place made up of derelict teddies who've found their crimes paid for and are a sign for you to keep your place with kisses and chocolate. Then there are those who fall into disaster mayhem where spitting and pinching are not uncommon and screaming and yelling are frequent on the eardrums. They're jobs are made tougher and longer, and after they're finished, and who knows when that will be, they are sent to the dungeon to pay for their impudence.

And that, that stuffy, hot cavern of a cell is where I live. I, Gollum, have taken board in the place where no other wishes to be. I've found a home in the dark, in the night. Because I, I alone, stand up to the monster! I am a new Gollum! I fight for my esteem, though I have none. I fight for respect, though the term is archaic. I fight...I fight...

But then I don't. Then I stumble down after fighting all day. Down, down to my dank coffin of a room and stealthily pull, very tenderly grab My Precious... She's one of a kind, white as new snow or my father's aging hair. She's crisp, too, delicate. One fall and she'd break into bits, leaving me more alone than ever before. She tells me stories, you see, of a world not here. She explains events that end with good over evil, and righteousness over malice. She knows me, understands me. She's named "Kindle" because she lights a fire in the darkness, but to me she is only "My Precious", and My Precious is the secret of my dwelling. Without her, I'd have rotted a long, long time ago. She's my savior and I am her faithful, loving Gollum. Together, My Precious and I, we shall fight the terrible, impenetrable monster! The end is coming!

Not a nanny

It's only taken me six weeks, but I've finally realized that I'm not cut-out to be a nanny. Through conversations with both Brendan and my parents (though sadly rare while working here) I was reminded time and again that there's more to life than this, and that I don't have to be here if I'm miserable- FREEDOM and HAPPINESS are always options.

What's funny is that since I can remember, it has always been my prerogative to tell others that they have escape, that if they're unhappy to change it and follow something that makes them happier and more fulfilled. And now, when the shoe is on the other foot, that it takes me a long time to listen and activate the changes needed.

And yet, I did finally listen and am now activating the following:

1) Quit job as live-in nanny (has one month notice - so end date is Aug. 11/12)
2) Move out of "home" and into REAL home with Brendan
3) Find other work that allows me to be there and have some down time.
4) Study away for the GRE, apply to grad schools and get recommendations before November.
5) In the meantime, and there should be a lot more than I have now, talk with my friends and family, play music and write new songs on my guitar, draw, run, dance, travel, eat and eat and eat and read!

What's most obvious about my ineptitude for this position is that I've known freedom since I can remember, I grew up free and believing everyone is equal. No matter the changes that have come so far, that is one characteristic that is unbreakable. In this position, it has been a challenge everyday to assert my equality and to find some chance for self-expression. Not only does the girl not listen to anything I say, she also treats me like a dog, expecting me to come whenever she wants me (not needs, but wants) and to do whatever she asks. Something I have tried to break her of but have only met worse rage and anger. I'm so exhausted from the day before that I don't have any energy to continue my protest. I end up doing the things just because I'm tired of fighting.

Perhaps that's how despotism works? It's just easier to roll over and be bossed around than it is to fight everyday for what's good. I'm still going to fight (when I can and have the energy), but I now know that my battle is not in this household, not with this child and not as a nanny. It's definitely a lot bigger and more important, and it's definitely worth the fight, and that is my life, my family, my friends. (I know that's a lot of possessive usage, but it now means a lot to say that somethings don't belong to the six year-old and that somethings are MINE and all MINE!