We will most probably lose, I just want you to be prepared

As my dad said I am here to fill in details about our basketball game. My coach gave us the pre-game talk but instead of a motivational speech filled with moving quotes and stimulating optimism, this was the end of his speech: "We will most probably lose very badly, I just want you to be prepared".

Kayra driving to the hoop

He was right about the losing but it was not by much. We lost 53-54 in what would have been a heartbreaker except for the fact that most of the other players had witnessed last year's loss by over 40 points. I played the whole game with two other players and the three of us scored every point (and despite my dad's earlier comment I am positive I scored 30 points, not 28). There were only four kids who had actual in-game experience, one of whom was Zach. Zach, might I mention, successfully kept the ball away from the high schoolers who clearly had no qualms about ripping the ball away from a 10 year old. We were playing against 15-17 year olds and almost won even though 6 out of 8 players from our team were 14 or younger and one played with a back injury. We had only practiced once a week and would have had any decent coach rolling on the ground crying with our lack of fundamentals.

Free Throws

Now, enough run-up to the game. We started the game down 4-0 and I was already fearing the worst but we got those points back. Then they went on another run to make it 10-5 and again I was afraid we were going to let it fall away from us but we came back to make it 12-13, at which point I received a phenomenal pass from Kayra and scored a layup that put us ahead 14-13. This I remember clearly because of the complete shock on my coach's face...the team he had just told to be ready to lose by a ridiculous margin had just scored a go-ahead basket against the 3rd best team in Izmir. From here it was almost point for point; they would score then we would score and so on until the end of the first half. At half time they instated a new defense which threw us for a loop and by the time we had adjusted we were down 8 points. With just 2 minutes left they scored an uncontested 3-pointer putting them up by 11 points. This angered me greatly and with revived vigor we threw the rest of what we had at them so that we were down 51-54 with just 3 seconds left. Kayra then shot a two-pointer despite the fact that Edu (the best three-point shooter) was wide open waiting for the tying shot. As you might guess from the score, Kayra made it but there wasn't enough time to get that one last point back. It's going to be tough to leave the team after such a good start. It clearly had the first game feeling and I wish I could stay and work towards a win with the team.

They made it feel like we had home-court advantage

We're stuck in Chios

Travel fatigue has set in.

(December 25th, Christmas Day) After a great time in Athens we flew to the island of Chios which is only a few miles from the coast of Turkey. In a careful plan to use as many different forms of transportation as are available (and save some money on airfares), we flew on one-way tickets to Athens, flew back to Chios and then had planned to take the ferry across to our car which I parked near the dock in Turkey a week ago. My original concern about whether or not the car would still be there has now been replaced with just trying to get back for Christmas.

Waiting for the rental car
 that never came.

Does it sound a little biased to talk about an "island mentality"? The ferry that was scheduled to run tomorrow morning on Christmas morning has now been indefinitely delayed for some indefinite reason. Every travel agent we speak to, and there are many, says something to the affect of "yes, yes, the boat will leave tomorrow." When we ask about the stormy weather forecast they add, "no, no, if the weather is bad the boat will not leave tomorrow." 

Making the best of it while the kids are asleep.

You can imagine the rest of the conversation. "So when will you know if the weather is too windy to cross?" Agent: "Come tomorrow to the docks at 7:30a and we will tell you. And the Koreans are not here yet." Us: "Which Koreans?" (we seemed to be the only folks in town who didn't know about the Koreans). Agent: "Yes, the boat will take the Koreans across." Us: "So is it the weather or the Koreans?" Agent: "Come tomorrow."

The Koreans have arrived!

Well, we did exactly that and at 8a the boat was nowhere to be seen. "The weather is too rough and the Koreans are still six hours away" we were told. Six hours?  There goes Christmas dinner, presents and desserts at our friends' house. Ever vigilant, Ladan suggested we head to a cafe that was near the boat so that we could keep an eye on it. I suggest I go back to the hotel and sleep.  Bad idea. 


At about 10:30a we notice that the boat has started to move. We run out of the cafe, jump in the car and drive to the other side of the harbor. "Yes, we have good news" they said, "the Koreans just arrived by plane not boat." I'm not sure if they had planned to call us or if it ever crossed their minds that we may not be at a cafe staring at the boat but thank goodness for Ladan's tenacious approach even with only a few hours sleep.

Headed home! Merry Christmas everyone.

Athens is cool!

(December 24) Wow did we have a great time in Athens. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss being in a Christian country around Christmas time and Athens was everything we had hoped for. The Greeks seem to have a certain joie de vivre that makes every meal exciting and every conversation into a (mostly) good-natured argument even if it's just about asking directions. 


Ladan found us a great hotel at half price (and not coincidentally a front row seat to the recent protests over public service cutbacks) and they had a fabulous buffet breakfast of which we took full advantage. Unlimited bacon is about as good as it gets after 4 months here in the pork-free zone. We also bought as many stinky cheeses and sausages as we could put in our luggage since those delicacies just aren't very available in Turkey and are super expensive when you can find them. At one point in our smallish rental car I told the boys they simply had to do better with their hygiene only to trace the intense athletic shoe aroma to a couple of French cheeses Ladan had stuffed in the back of the car.

Athens was truly impressive in terms of monuments and completed the circle for us in terms of understanding who founded so many of the ancient cities in Turkey. The Acropolis is hard to believe even by modern standards and there seem to be temples and public buildings from 2000+ years ago strewn everywhere. 

We also spent a good deal of time with the family of a woman we met through Ladan's great friend Vida. Dinners were never boring as their teenage son would get fed up with his father and slam the table with his hands shouting "Papa, why do you always have to [fill in the blank with some long sentence in Greek]". His dad would bang the table right back and after a few exchanges the conversation would be back to normal tones as if nothing had happened. We never really had much of a clue as to what was real or just drama but by the third night we were looking forward to the show. They're a terrific family and thanks to them our Athens trip was truly spectacular.

5th grader plays high school basketball

Somebody has to be open.

(December 15) The photos say it all as Zach actually got a few minutes of playing time in MEF International's first game of the season. The school is small and Zach made the travel team to Ishikkent, the local hoops powerhouse. Frankly I would have played him more (sound like a Dad?) and he ended up handling the ball well with no turnovers. He passed up the one shot that he could have taken so I would add unselfish play to his list.

Sammy poured in either 28 or 30 points and MEF held it's own, losing by a single point (54-53) which for them was better than they had ever really hoped for. I'm sure the boys will be happy supply details in their posts.

Speeding ticket (part 2): How do you plead Mr. Kebab?

(December 13) We had another blustery cold day here yesterday where the wind kicked up waves taller than me and after picking the kids up from basketball practice I went to Ziraat Bankasi, the government bank, and stood in line to pay my ticket (yes, at a bank). Actually there was no line, just a couple of folks who got their after me and went to the window before me. I knew enough to take a number, 129, from the magic little touch screen machine, but the guy who came after me pulled the number 413 and a teller light went on indicating that it was number 413's turn. 


Ugh. Kids waiting in the car and I'm in hurry and oh yes, I'm also invisible to the tellers.

When I actually do get up to bat, there is a lot of commotion that I didn't really understand. A request for ID, followed by more murmured conversation then led to ask, "what is your name?" Since they have my ID card it seems like a weird question but whatever. It is then, reading upside down that I see my name written as "Organ Donor."

Me: "Maybe I don't have to pay after all?"  Teller: " 'Organ Donor' could be a Turkish name." 

Me: But do you think I could win if I went to court?  Teller: "Could be a Turkish name like Orhan...maybe Orhan was driving your car?"

Me: "And what about Donor?"  Teller: "Well, 'Doner' is a kind of kebab sandwich" she said barely suppressing her smile, "...but I think you know that already." By this time the whole back office was in on the joke.

The door seem to close a bit as I imagined trying to explain to a Turkish judge that Orhan Doner (basically Mr. Kebab) might have hijacked my 1400 cc car for a joy ride. I now have a stamped legal document that says I, Mr. Organ Donor have paid my speeding ticket though I haven't had a chance yet to use my new name in public.

If this is Christmas, what happens at Easter?

(December 19) The Christmas trees have been up here in Izmir for weeks and decorations at the mall feature Santa and his reindeer in various interpretations, most of which we would recognize at King of Prussia mall although one or two look like Children of the Corn. Turkey's government is notoriously secular, or at least it has been historically, and Muslims make up more than 90% of the population so what gives?

For those of you who may not know, and that included us until a few weeks ago, many of the ancient traditions of Christmas originally come from Asia Minor.  Santa Claus, originally St. Basil in the Eastern Orthodox Church, comes from Caesarea, modern day Kayseri near Cappadocia.  According to the blogosphere, a traditional Greek Christmas carol proclaims his miracle work in the lands of Anatolia to this day.  In fact, his feast day is celebrated on January 1st, the same day Turkey celebrates Christmas (or their version of it).

The surprise is that even though trees are decorated, lights are up and stores hold holiday sales, Christmas itself is not mentioned in any of these Turkish celebrations.  While gifts are given on January 1, we're guessing as a St. Basil feast day holdover, it's celebrated as "Mutlu Yillar" (Happy New Year) celebration. It's a little...OK a lot confusing but something tells me it's neither Christmas nor confusion, just commercialism that's driving this New Year's celebration that looks, walks and talks like Christmas. 

Tired of over-commercialized Christmases in the U.S. and mall carols that you can't get out of your head? Turkey's version is a lot tamer but in a city where the "azan" (Islamic call to prayer) wails through the air five times a day the trees and reindeer seem like a disconnect. (Maybe I just didn't get enough New Year's gifts as a kid)


In any event, Mutlu Yillar! 

Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro (Jasmine)

Jasmine here. My dad and I are leaving tomorrow to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania and I can't believe this is finally happening!!!!  I've wanted to do this since I was 8 years old when I watched a Nat Geo program where a 12 year old girl trekked with her folks to the top. I'm freaking out a little since we're actually going to get on an airplane tomorrow morning but we made one final final final trip to the store this morning to get supplies and I think we are prepared. At least everything fits in my backpack. 

While we are in Tanzania we would like to help a local orphanage called the Rift Valley Children's Village. We are hoping that folks might be willing to sponsor our climb so that we may support a child at the orphanage (and thanks so much to those of you who have already agreed to help!!!). Supporting a child includes covering the costs of food, clothing, shelter, and medicine for a year. It costs $1,000 to support a primary school child but ideally we would like to raise $2,000 to support a secondary school child. This could make the difference between attending university or picking coffee beans to support themselves. 

You can sponsor us in any amount you choose for each day of climbing we complete on the mountain (and double that amount on day 7 if we summit). For example a $2 per day sponsorship for each of six days and $4 for the day we summit would total $16. We would greatly appreciate it if you sponsored us for even more than $2/day but please give in any way that you feel comfortable. If you would like to sponsor us please email me (jazzysemail@comcast.net) so that when we finish our climb we may inform you of how far we were able to climb and you can donate accordingly. We will visit the orphanage after our climb and tell them how much money we raised and meet the child we are sponsoring. 

The website for the orphanage is http://www.tanzanianchildrensfund.org/index.php and there is a great video of the children on youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbJ0Yf5bLFA. 

Many thanks and I wish you a fantastic holiday season.

Jasmine Schlichting

Lycian Way trip

Jasmine here. This is really overdue. It got lost in the drafts section, and all the while I thought it was already published. Just pretend that you are reading this 1 week after our hiking trip to Antalya.

Remember the entry I made about roasting marshmellows on Mt. Olympus? (if you don't remember or never cared to read it, go read it now) Well, we just came back from that trip Saturday night. It was quite the experience. 64 km of walking in 2 and a half days; oh, and I was one of two girls among 12 boys and it rained everyday. We had to change something about our route everyday because of mudslides, or no road, or high water levels. The first day was the worst. It went through patches of rain and sun, so that as soon as you took out your rain jacket, it would stop raining and as soon as you put it away it started raining again. The mud was so bad that we all gained about 3 kilos just from the mud stuck to the bottoms of our shoes. The only excitement was an ancient dilapidated house that was held together with cow dung and one kid took a bite of the 200 year old crap on a dare (actually, that was one of the funniest moments of the trip. And we have it all on video). Boy did we sleep well that night.

The second day we went to the Shimira mountains, which is where the fires come out of Mt. Olympus. That was a hard climb since the elevation rose 350 meters in 1.5 kilometers. We saw an ancient city, and waded through a river. We almost didn't go hiking that day because of the water levels, but after my brother and I used the logic that "we HAVE to go because we brought S'MORES" our teacher found a way to cross the river. We saw some really cool chickens that had afros and we were never at a loss for something to eat because there were pomegranate and orange trees everywhere and it was all super ripe, so we just plucked it from the trees. I didn't know what to expect when we reached the fire mountains, but it was just like I imagined. There are holes in the ground where gas comes out and it burns. Other than being a really good mid-afternoon snack, it was so much fun to roast s'mores on the mountain. I loved watching kids (and adults too) eat their very first marshmellow and make their first s'more.

The third day we hiked to the beach. We were supposed to do a longer hike, but we were so slow because everyone's feet hurt so bad that we took a shortcut, which ended up being much worse. We took a path through the woods that had no trail and we had quite the time fighting through the brush and gaining our footing on the washed out landscape. But we went through a pomegranate farm that day which gave us renewed energy after we devoured the perfect, ruby red pockets of tasty perfection and we also played futbol at the beach.

At the airport we saw some famous pro footballers who were on our plane. It was hilarious to see some kids, and our teacher, freak out when the players all entered the airport in their uniform red jackets. One kid named Emirhan actually offered to pay anyone who got a seat next to a footballer 30 lira for their seat.

And now my extremely long tale about our Lycian Way trip is over.

Speeding in Turkey (part 1)

Everyday on the way to school and every Sunday morning on the way to sailing class I pass at least one "traffic control" checkpoint set up by the police. In my head I've run through the scenario a hundred times as to what I would say and how I would handle it. "Sir, this is a rental car and the left rear tail light is not my responsibility" or "Sir, I am driving my children to school and cannot be late or they will face the derision of their classmates," or in my heart of hearts, "Me? You're pulling me over? You have got to be kidding. Can you see how crazy everyone drives here and yet somehow you manage to single me out?" 

When it actually happened yesterday morning on the way to sailing class it was frankly a little anti-climactic. I love these bright crisp fall/winter Sundays when we get on the boat and wasn't thinking about cops with radar guns until it was too late. About a kilometer later they flagged me down and I joined a line of cars waiting to get tickets. Dang it. Late for sailing class and a 130 lira fine ($90) in my pocket. Of course when you're in a production line waiting for your ticket there really isn't much opportunity for conversation, certainly not at the speed I speak. It also happened to be below freezing so basically it came down to him:"101 kilometers" Me: "The limit is 120". Him: "but 85 in a kamyonet (small truck)." Unfailingly polite, he traced the numbers out on my ticket with a gloved finger just to be sure I understood."

As it turns out, the type of small van we have is usually used as a commercial truck and is not allowed to go as fast as a passenger car on the highways. We've never felt all that safe in our little truck but now our fear has been officially confirmed by the Turkish highway patrol. By the way, 85 kilometers per hour is only 51 miles per hour on the highway. We might as well drive on the shoulder.

The good news is that you get a discount if you pay your fine within 10 days. More to come.

Putting the Hindi back into Christmas

In an odd linguistic twist the Turkish word for "turkey" (the bird) is "hindi" which means Indian. And while turkeys are not available in Turkey in November they are available for New Year's celebration or in our case, Christmas. As one of Ladan's friends noted you can't really expect folks to eat a bird with the same name as their country so somewhere down the line it must have been changed to spare the awkward expat confusion. OK probably not but it's fun to think about it and to say, "Please pass the indian" followed by "and don't forget the pilgrim".

Futbol magnet

(Zach writing)
Lately I have been trying to improve my futbol (soccer) skills by bringing the futbol every where I go. We just got back from eating at a reasturant but while we were walking through an alley a middle-aged man walks right up to me and kicks the futbol out from under my feet. I thought it was a little rude and weird but then after another 5 minutes another middle-aged man comes up to me and kicks it again right out of my feet, this time with a little smile. I've now figured out that they don't think it's rude and it's just part of the way people act here. I tell my dad and he thinks it's pretty funny/weird too! When we arrive at the door of the resturant the manager there see's the futbol and say's "for me, for me?" obviously kidding but still it's funny. When we're done we stop into the bar to watch a few minutes of a basketball game. While we're there a waiter comes up, takes the ball and does 8 tap-up's easily. Then he tries to balance the futbol on his foot. He does it for a few seconds but sloppily and then it falls. Then a waitress walks in and see's him trying to blance it and says give it here to the guy (in Turkish of course). She kicks it up and balances it on her foot perfectly for at least 8 or 9 seconds.

All in all my dad says taking the futbol to dinner is like taking a puppy through the streets of New York and having everyone come pet the dog. If we had started this when we came we probably would have at least 5 friends just from playing futbol in the streets.

Fenerbache Good Good

Funny story: We bought a backpack at the beginning of the year which had a Fenerbache logo on it. Fenerbache, a soccer team, is like the Turkish version of the Yankees: some people love them and some hate them. On our way to Iran, as we passed through security in Ankara one of the guards noticed the backpack, and when he saw Zach pick it up, he runs over and says "Fenerbache good good." Then another guard runs over and says "Fenerbache bad bad."The first one says again "No, Fenerbache good good, and the other guard says bad bad, and so on for maybe a minute before we finally walked away.

We must have been hungry...(Istanbul food pix)

Paper Airplanes

Zach writing
so we've started making a ton of different paper aiplanes. Some are very cool. Then weand Sam had the great idea that we should throw them off the bulding and try to make it to the grocery store next door.It was a great idea and the very first time we were the closest to making it. Here are some of the pics.

Me, awesome.

High flyin above the city.

Almost there!

So close!!!!

MISS?! HOW?!

The new cool guy that we learned how to make on the internet.
Already made a small one.

Get ready!

epic fail.

Universally Misunderstood

(Sam here.....)
When we decided to come to Turkey we knew that the biggest obstacle would be language. We were

going to a place with a language that has roots in places you would not believe! Turkish, for those of you who don't know, is of the same family as Japanese and has Mongolian and Slavic influences. For the most part when we visit Europe we have enough languages between us (Mom some French, Jasmine and me some Spanish, and the locals some English) that we can find our way fairly easily. However in Turkey these languages have very little to no influence, and the Turks are certainly not the most proficient English speakers. This made it very difficult early in the year, especially for Mom who was really getting annoyed at the lack of English. By now however we have almost gotten used to being misunderstood.

As of late Mom hasn't been complaining about how many people do not speak English. She can communicate with cashiers and other people either through us or using one word sentences. Dad's Turkish found great improvement through a language course he took. The unfortunate thing now is that he thinks he is fluent and has decided that he should be chatting with the locals, even though I am pretty sure they don't want to. We have just gotten used to taking forever to communicate and/or being unsure of whether the locals know what the heck we are talking about. We can take 30 minutes to finally get an answer and not know if their answer was just something they said to get us on our way. By now being misunderstood has become a part of life.

On our way into the metro the other day we simply pointed at a train, and asked: "Gaziemir?" and the man just nodded his head and we walked on. The thought then occurred to me, "what is it going to be like going back to the U.S. where I will be able to form a full sentence without planning beforehand?" I will be able to understand the cashiers without having to look at the screen, and I won't have to say "Turkche bilmiyorum" every time someone asks me a question. We will also be able to understand people asking us for direction, as well as be able to ask directions ourselves. The other day a poor man drove up next to us at a red light and asked for directions, but unlucky for him, out of the other 10 cars, he drove next to the only people who didn't have a clue as to what he was saying.

Despite the monstrous language barrier in Turkey, I would definitely like to stay a little longer. I miss home but I'm also going to miss this new adventure and the puzzle of trying to make ourselves understood.