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7 travel blogs written in Istanbul
Find accommodation in IstanbulBring it Godzilla Beyotch
11. October 2006 | en
Because Godzilla may start it but I be finishing it! So much so that my kisses have the power to make monsters quake. Yes you read it right. Monsters FEAR me. The little boy cant sleep through the night. So last night I gave him 2 kisses on his forehead and told him that when monsters saw the Sherrie kisses they would run away afraid because they knew I would yell at them for scaring him. And then I pretended I was yelling at the monsters. He giggled at that. BUT last night he slept through the night and tonight he asked for Sherrie No Monsters Kisses before he went to sleep. This does beg the question of how terrifying am I if he honestly believes when Im mad even the monsters hide…….
Tags:
Istanbul
Teacher Sister Is A Dragon Slayer Extraordinaire
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Created at: 22. May 2008
Why Hans Should Report The News
09. October 2006 | en
Hans:
oh! haha. did you hear about the recent exchange of gunfire in the Korean demilitarized zone? South Korean troops fired on advancing North Korean troops. When asked why he thought the North Koreans had crossed the DMZ, the South Korean military commander was later quoted as saying the North Korean soldiers had either been on a secret military mission, or perhaps they’d been going fishing.
Hans:
(the latter theory actually holds weight because i think only one of the five soldiers was carrying any weapons)
Tags:
Istanbul. DMZ
North Korean Army Goes Fishing
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Created at: 22. May 2008
The Glamour Of A Nanny
08. October 2006 | en
I would love to tell you about my exciting weekend, but as I work weekends İ can not. :P I can tell you that children are your parents revenge upon you. This mornıng a little tap on my door and I was sure I had overslept. ‘Sherrie come see come see.’ As the dawn had barely began to crack I looked at my watch . Sure enough it was not yet 7 in the mornıng. Stumbling down the stairs convinced one of them had killed the other (and thats why they didnt wake their parents up for whatever this obvious emergency was), I walk into the room and what is on the TV – what may just be the most annoying giant fluffy dınosaur type thıngs sınce barney. ‘SEE Sherrie ENGLISH!!!!!!’ Yes yes it is. It is also not yet 7 in the morning. HOWEVER no one was beıng sat on in forced participation either. I was overwhelmed wıth joy and an urge to throttle. So I sat with them for 10 mıns before telling them Id go back to sleep now and what good boys they were. I have vague memories of me and my brothers jumping on my parents bed at 7 in the morning demanding cereal and the shared pleasure of group cartoon watching. Thıs is what ıs meant by karma.
Tags:
Istanbul
nanny for the rich - tell me again why I am doing this?
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Created at: 22. May 2008
Think Chicken Run
04. October 2006 | en
Yesterday I was called downstairs to a room of people in lab coats. Ok so there were 2, but it is always disconcerting when you walk into a room in your domestic domain and see lab coats. And then I was told I needed a needle. WTF??? One boy was crying, the other was looking at me suspiciously, so I thought they needed me to go first. It was a flu shot so I figured what the hell. One stab by a stranger later and I’m told the boys already have theirs.
This morning my arm is itchy, sore, and grotesquely swollen. Almost as if someone slipped one of those giant square band aids for your knee under the skin. The aunt sees it, and says, “Maybe because there are 5 different virus in that needle.”
Think chicken run, think panicked screaming clay chickens, think thats the scene in my head right now.
Tags:
Istanbul
We mustn’t Panic
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
How Dinosaurs Can Create The Urge To Nest
27. September 2006 | en
Part of the joys of being a governess is that your part teacher and part nanny. So though while you get to throughly enjoy your preparation time and teaching time, there is also all out play time and the occasional bathroom break time when you are asked “is my bum clean” and you check, and then share some of the pride displayed when the 4 year old boy exclaims “WOW its as big as a snake.” (We were beaming over different things. He was impressed with size, I was happy that all that time spent on phonics and singing “the snake is in the grass” wasn’t wasted).
But there is also the fights over if its study time, or flat out “he/she is my sibling and I can take them out with a well placed clothesline to the neck if I so wish.” And sometimes at parties it gets a little out of hand and you need to sit with one of them while they throw a 40 minute temper tantrum, and you find your greatest fear (that one day you will turn out to be your mother) isn’t true, because you find your fathers words coming out instead “Tears don’t work on me, We should have thought about that before we tried to tackle your brother.” And you wonder how the hell your parents ever put up with you and didn’t dump you with grandma and grandpa and run off Costa Rica. And then you get a tearful apology and you decide to let the offender go.
And you open the door to see a four and a half year old neon orange dinosaur hurdling down the hall towards you. And your thoughts are (in this exact order);
What the fuck?
Where the Hell did he find that?
He cant put socks on how did he get orange spandex with fluffy spikes on?
Oh My God where do I get my own?
(I refer to both the outfit and the 4 year old).
Because we all know we can just go to the store and buy them.
Tags:
Istanbul
Dinosaurs and nesting
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Oma's Wise Words of Wisdom: The Turkish Version
25. September 2006 | en
If mothers are always right, than grandmothers may just as well be psychic. Even if they are not actually your grandmother. Just someone else’s you’ve decided to adopt… with or without her consent. (Because Oma Helga is one of the coolest women I have ever met, and I hope at 83 I still go to the gym every week, tell my grandchildren off for not buying enough cake fast enough, and then ditch the annual family vacation because it conflicts with my social calender and I run off instead to hang out with my own friends. But I digress.) Anyway as soon as I arrived in Stuttgart I was treated to cake and coffee and general yummy happiness. With the cake finished and my guard down I have a paper slapped in front of me and I’m commanded to read.12. There is no need to go to Turkey she tells me, they are being blown up there. And the men stare too much. Sometimes they even lock you in kitchens. (this was said with some German in there, I may have been confused. Oma suspects correctly I know more German then I let on. But I don’t understand a word when its in a torrent of anger). When the financial offerings are explained she re contemplates, and says ok, you can go (please note she gave me permission), but if its bad you can always come back to Germany.
The reason why I never posted this straight away was because I needed to temper it a little. The original one I wrote had a large rant about the men in Istanbul. Now I change that to the men in Sultanhamet where I was staying. When I went to other areas of Istanbul I met the occasional jackass, but no more than any other city. However after speaking with Hans Ive decided not to temper anything at all. Rather you get the Turkish and Greek versions of how my first week went down. (Thank you Hans). And I will post this one with the disclaimer that I did actually calm down and stop hating. (That is possible even for one who once the earned the nickname hates a lot the anti care bear. Lest we forget the zen like state I acquired after all my belongings were robbed in Vietnam. No longer am I the girl who makes my brothers quake between fear and laughter as I tear a room apart screaming at my iguana for taking a poo poo in her freshly cleaned cage.)
And in fairness there was the lovely bus driver at the airport.
1 Pish to my inability to actually read anything beyond the Steiffle the cats comics.
2 But now I’m a translator DOUBLE PISH. Is that how you even spell pish?
Tags:
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Oma's Wise Words of Wisdom: The Greek Version
25. September 2006 | en
Also known as the one I wrote before I tempered it. Kudos to Hans for suggesting I post both with their appropriate titles. ;)
If mothers are always right, than grandmothers may just as well be psychic. Even if they are not actually your grandmother. Just someone else’s you’ve decided to adopt… with or without her consent. (Because Oma Helga is one of the coolest women I have ever met, and I hope at 83 I still go to the gym every week, tell my grandchildren off for not buying enough cake fast enough, and then ditch the annual family vacation because it conflicts with my social calender and I run off instead to hang out with my own friends. But I digress.) Anyway as soon as I arrived in Stuttgart I was treated to cake and coffee and general yummy happiness. With the cake finished and my guard down I have a paper slapped in front of me and I’m commanded to read. (Phish to my inability to actually read anything beyond the Steiffle the cats comics). There is no need to go to Turkey she tells me, they are being blown up there. And the men stare too much. Sometimes they even lock you in kitchens. (this was said with some German in there, I may have been confused. Oma suspects correctly I know more German then I let on. But I dont understand a word when its in a torrent of anger). When the financial offerings are explained she re contemplates, and says ok, you can go (please note she gave me permission), but if its bad you can always come back to Germany.
Can I book that plane now please? I am in fact only half joking. I just looked into what it would cost me to fly out after my interview on Friday night/Saturday morning, and then take the German wings flight back on Sunday night to be at work for Monday morning. Or never if I don’t get the job. I debated the 400 euros and decided maybe it would be better just to camp it out in movie theaters. Peach Juice man aside, I am ready to take out every man in the city. (Peach Juice man was a lovely older man who speaks no English and drives the airport bus. Long story short when he realized I was over tired and didn’t speak a word of Turkish he took my bags, shooed me on the bus and drove me to where the other buses were parked and said, “wait here long time, ok.” He then reappeared with peach juice for me, before driving me back to the exact spot he picked me up at in time for the right bus to collect me.)
BUT that is not enough to temper my hatred or shorten my new journey back to the hostel. And even when I arrive there I dive for the cover of my room. It began with the Blue Mosque carpet guy. As I had just escaped after 2 hours of being in the clutches of carpet sellers (where they wanted me to buy 2000 dollars worth of rugs, which after a very impressive carpet show I did so want to.) I make it the Blue Mosque. I am about to wander in when I am accosted again. A little edgy I give him the look of death. “No” he explains “I am not a tour guide, but you are not allowed to enter here, this is the Muslim entrance. This way is the correct entrance.” So thinking he is someone official my back goes down and I allow him to show me where to go. I do note however he does not actually LEAVE me at the entrance but follows me in. I tell him he can go but he insists on showing me around, and begrudgingly I let him. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was fucking tired. I hadn’t slept yet, with my flight having arrived at 3 am in Sabihia airport (hurray for discount airlines) and no buses til 6 am, and I had my interview at 10 for the agency, followed by my abduction by carpet dudes on my first attempt to see the blue Mosque. So I was feeling torn between throat punching my way out, and just letting it ride to see where it went. As throat punching and drop kicking requires an ample energy reserve that I at the moment no longer had I let it ride.
And in a way I was glad. I had no idea how to get back to my hostel, and my effort to ditch him and get a cab was thwarted when he screamed my hostel was just down from his shop. And my stomach dropped when I realized he was of a different set of carpet sellers that screamed “hello welcome to paradise” that morning when I arrived. And he knew where I lived. No avoiding it. On the way to the hostel he absolutely insisted I come in for tea. I tried to avoid it, but somehow was manhandled into his shop. I was convinced carpets were being tossed down again. As I was led up a set of stairs I heard an American female voice scream ‘No just leave me the FUCK alone, I don’t want any of your FUCKING carpets.” I realized she must’ve been here for more than 24 hours. On the stairs however he announced to the man coming with carpets that “no I was his girlfriend” and to leave me alone. I was given apple tea as he detailed all the places he was going to show me on my visit here. He would collect me at 9 that night for diner and a night tour of Istanbul. I then took my leave and left the hostel at 7 for supper knowing full well he’d be waiting alone for a very long time.
At supper I sit down, exhausted in every way, and the waiter serves me and I’m grateful and smile. This smile was read as single and horny. He asked me if I liked beer and decided he would take me to Taksim after work. I was to come back at 9 30. Popular girl I be. If it wasn’t that the kitten I was feeding was between me and him I would’ve bit him.
But I went to bed, and woke up and realized that there was now 2 streets off limit to me or I would find myself in a Turkish prison. So off to see Aya Sofia and Topaki Palace I went, and what should have taken me maybe 5 mins took me 15 as I went down a backstreet and got lost. :P (me never!). ;)
The day went pretty well, asides from learning I couldn’t say hello back to anyone who said it to me, and when I got back I found out there was a mistake in rooms and I was given the wrong room. No worries the hostel manager told me, you can stay. And then asked if I had been to Taksim. No I had not but I really wanted to as I was told it was the place to be in Istanbul. I will take you he declared. Now at this point I was conflicted. He would probably charge me a lot of money. But I was already sick to death of being harassed. And it was only day 2. It would be worth the money. As I am a dork about such things, I never asked how much it would cost before hand. It was to cost me nothing. Turns out I was on a date with a new boyfriend. If you can image flames shooting out of my head, ears, and eyes at this moment you still cannot imagine the depth of my anger. If you are John and remember me in Japan jumping off my bike and beating the shit out of it with my purse while screaming FUCK repeatedly at the top of my lungs causing both the bike and purse to explode and everything go everywhere your about right.
Anger people. This is the first and only city I would say do not come as a single female.
Tags:
Map:
N 41° 00.892
E 29° 00.939
Vehicle to this place: Plane
