de la neige

The one thing I can say for the weather outside : the snowflakes are smaller, and somehow dryer than they've been. I used to be totally enchanted by snow and every wintry mix you could shake a stick at. I'll never forget the first snowfall my freshman year in Vermont. I was so excited I ran outside down our house's wooden ramp in my socks, fell flat on my back, and slid down into the ice and white fluff. My housemates laughed at me and mumbled "stupid Californian."

I wish I still possessed that enthusiasm. This past week I've looked out the window, shivered, and made yet another cup of tea. The two times I've gone out, I've been oh-so careful to watch my step, and yet two times I've ended up falling hardcore. Flat on my back, and then on my left knee, which is now a violent shade of purple and green. I can't even bring myself to make a snowman. It literally took me hours to talk myself into bundling up to go to the market for groceries this afternoon. I need to get a grip, and in a big hurry. But in my defense, "outside" seems full of weird obstacles and hindrances right now. For one, I'm half-terrified / half-hoping I'll run into Aydın's parents, which I think I just did. Secondly, I'm a little apprehensive I'll run into anyone. My old neighborhood sucked because it was right next to the psychiatric hospital of Istanbul, and therefore constantly berated with the sounds of sirens (and planes landing at the airport ten minutes away). My neighbors hated us, but I also never saw them... Here in this very different part of town, I am reliably the only uncovered woman walking the streets, and now that I think about it, usually the only woman walking alone. Shopkeepers have been super friendly to me, but I wonder if only because I've managed to not open my mouth beyond "hello" and "thank you," and they haven't quite caught on that I'm foreign. I really need to go to the pharmacy and pick up some medicine, but I know that it won't end well. And that's frustrating. I guess I'll ask Aydın to go for me later.

I also don't have too much to do outside, or inside. As I mentioned in my last post, I had a roommate interview on Monday (when fall number one occurred) and it went supremely well. Unless things go terribly wrong (knock on wood), I should be moving into an apartment with two English speaking Turkish girls on Saturday afternoon. In yet another - though significantly more modern - neighborhood called Mecediyeköy. I met these two girls off of couchsurfing, and I'm apparently taking the place of their long term Italian roommate who's moving back to Italy. I am super jazzed to be in this new neighborhood, but even more jazzed to live with two, super liberal, very interesting girls my age. AND they have a cat named Laiyla (? pronounced Lie-la) with an adorable Crookshanks-esque smushed face. My former roommates/friends Victoria and Ido finally found a place for themselves, and things are getting settled. It's a big relief.

On the job front, things are moving a little more slowly. I applied to a private K-12 school a few days ago, and again at Berlitz. In a few days I'm hoping to talk to one of the head teachers at my former company's rival. Their employee policies aren't awesome, but they are much more legitimate. Little by little things are getting settled.

Since a few of you asked, my Sunday dinner with Aydın was a total disaster. Yes. A disaster. I think I went to four markets before I found most of the ingredients I was looking for, and even then, there were a lot of shoddy substitutions happening. Which seems hard to believe, considering I made vegetable risotto and a chèvre, spinach, and pear salad. The risotto was fine, I guess. But I couldn't find spinach, had to settle for romaine lettuce, my pear wasn't fully ripe, and then right as I was administering my really freaking expensive chèvre, was asked to skip it because Aydın hates goat cheese! He then told me that he had three pet goats growing up, as if that were an explanation... I can understand that, though. Goat cheese isn't for everyone. It's tangy and sharp and a little wild. So I got out my Parmigiano-Reggiano which I'd put in the risotto, and he asked for a piece to try since it was new to him. (!!!) It was only out of politeness that he didn't spit it out. I swear to you. I saw his mouth turn into that funny grimace that kids do when they're given asparagus. And then it hit me. I remembered something. Namely, about ten conversations I've had here in Turkey revolving around the fact that Turkish people not only dislike but distrust foreign food. It freaks them out. So fucking weird. Aydın apologized to me maybe twenty times for ruining my dinner plans and then proceeded to make his own dinner on the spot. We sat down - me with my food and him with his - and I started laughing. Never have I had my food rejected. Actually, the salad dressing I made he eyed warily, before asking me for the ingredients. When I told him it was just garlic, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a little mustard, he tasted it and proclaimed it totally edible. He did eat some of the risotto, and probably only because he felt so bad. Anyway. I learned my lesson. And fortunately, I'll feel much less obligated to feed him once I'm no longer spending most of my time in his kitchen + living room.

In related news, I met his best friend on Tuesday evening. I spent the afternoon hanging out with my friend Chip, taking the ferry to "Asya" where Chip hopes to settle in a few months. I know that Helsinki must've been colder, but with the wet and the wind and the endless snowfall, what should've been a lovely few hours of strolling through the charming streets of Kadiköy across the Bosphorus was instead mostly frigid un-fun. Chip and I parted and I made the long trek back here. I do this funny thing where I'll walk an extra block if I feel like I'm being observed, or about to become noticed in any way. It's stupid and really antisocial of me, but I can't help it. I'm naturally a recluse. Even my astrological chart (!) says so. I saw some men eying me from across the street just as I was took out my keys to open the apartment door, so I decided to walk the few extra yards to the end of the block until they had passed. I was turning the corner and like an unfunny banana-peel themed cartoon, I slipped and fell right onto my left knee and elbow, smashing them into the ice. If anyone saw me, they didn't rush over and ask me if I were alright. I picked myself up very grumpily and headed back to the apartment, cursing my own foolishness. I got through the first door and was taking off my boots when Aydın opened the second one and told me "we ha[d] a visitor." Oh, goody. Well, though I'm sure I was initially a frosty bitch, best friend was not. He tried his damnedest to tell me all kinds of embarrassing things about Aydın, but unfortunately was censored by the official translator. It was pretty fun, hearing them go on about high school (where they met, seventeen years ago?) and their various pranks and antics. It made me feel a lot less like a pariah to meet someone so important to him. It also made me realize how much I treasure my own friends and the weird and endearing things we've done over the years.

Ok. Enough of that. Time to start dinner for myself. I'm making potato dumplings in a tomato sauce. And I'm really excited.

Bowling with Aydın's class tomorrow night. Should be... fun...? A) I'm as good atbowling as I am at calculus. B) His classmates have no idea about us. Oh boy.