Talk is Cheap

Sometimes things overdue become timely again and such is the case with this post.
Two Fridays ago, a local jazz band, Talk is Cheap, composed of three faculty members from the university gave a free concert in the library’s art gallery. It was a smashing combination and was the perfect break for a Friday afternoon. The concert was such a success that they are playing again tomorrow in the library (at 2 pm, I think, in case anyone local is reading this).
That is why I say the post is timely again.

The gallery is featuring the work of Abdurrahman Kaplan. I particularly like this picture because old men playing guitar-like instruments seems to be a universal art theme (see Picasso’s take, and Vermeer's take). I almost titled this post “Turkish Picasso” and thought about a whole diatribe on the collective unconscious of things but decided against it since all I know about the collective unconscious is the names Jung and Campbell and the universal myth of creation (I had an excellent course as an undergraduate in ancient astronomy and if I hadn’t already made up my mind to pursue psychology I think I would have rather liked archeoastronomy as a major).

Back to what is at hand: art and music. Having an intimate concert in an art gallery is a lovely thing. This was the first time I had attended any such gathering but if I ever own an art gallery, I would definitely work the art/music angle. It is amazing how spiritually lifting such an experience can be as a feast for the eyes and ears (especially given that often my ears are subjected to the monotony of a clacking keyboard and my eyes to a blinking cursor). What’s more, it is a great marketing ploy (not that this concert was about selling art). But I remember one spring break when S. and I went to San Francisco and in The Haight, there was a t-shirt/poster/bong shop playing Rubber Soul and I spent much more money in that shop that I would have spent had they been playing any other music.

Talk is Cheap is a great little ensemble and they played all sorts of jazz standards like “The Girl from Ipanema” and “Fly Me to the Moon” and more contemporary pieces of Nora Jones’.
Finally, Talk is Cheap plays every Sunday night at a local bar in Ankara which I do not know the name of but I am hoping that Erin (vocalist and pianist of Talk is Cheap) will post that information in the comments section… just in case anyone out there lives in Ankara or is planning to visit.

"Interception! Fumble Recovery!"

Well it’s that time of year again. The time of year when, were I back in the states, I would have honed and perfected the ability to dip a tortilla chip into some yummy, scrumptious Velveeta and salsa dip just before the ball was snapped so that I could yell out "Interception! Fumble recovery!" while the Buckeyes are on defense against Michigan. Yes, it is that time of year.
This year, apparently, The Game has reached epic proportions since so much is at stake for both teams. Read the Slate article here.
I am an Ohio State fan by birth. I have never attended Ohio State or even lived in Columbus, save for six months when I was about four. But, in the same way that people are born into Catholicism or royalty, I was born into cheering for Ohio State. I wish I had a few pictures to post of me as a baby in my Ohio State sweat suit, me at the Rose Bowl with my family in 1997 and me one year in college where a friend and I watched the Ohio State/Michigan game in which my friend is waving a paper flag that says "Michigan sucks goat balls" and has a block O on her fur trapper hat (she was from Kalamazoo, MI). It is a classic picture but alas, none of these are digital and not even here with me in Turkey to scan. The point is I am a big OSU fan (or as big as a nerdy temporary, ex-pat can be). And I hope Ohio State wins. Amen.

Visit this blog and scroll down to the post "Ohio State Football" to see some great footage from the Northwestern game last year of the band.

It’s true that Ohio State football has the vestiges of a religion with the traditions, ceremony, saints and prayers. I love it. I will probably be unable to see the game today in real time. Although, we met a Michigan fan at darts who is taping the game so maybe I will get to see it in a few days... But, in the same way that you don't have to attend church to believe, you don't have to see the game to believe. And I believe. Go BUCKS!

UPDATE: Ohio State beat Michigan 42-39...HI-OH!

Bahçelievler

Graduate school applications, playing darts, knitting, bathroom repairs and general day-to-day activities gobbled the last month up. The last week in particular has been a flurry of activity with dinners at friends’ (one dinner was t-bone steak brought over from Canada!), finishing a knitting project, going out a bit too much and enjoying the first snow of the season.

There is too much for one post so there will be a few installments as I try to catch up with blogging.

Last Friday night a few of us took the service bus to a neighborhood in Ankara, Bahçelievler (translates to houses [evler] with [li] gardens [bahçe]), to celebrate the successful defense of a Ph.D. It is a lovely area that I had never visited even though I pass it all of the time on the bus. The streets are lined with shops, tea salons, a few bakeries and pastry shops, restaurants and lovely apartments. Plus of course some markets like these pictured. And at this time of year men roasting chestnuts. The first time I had ever had roasted chestnuts was last year in Antalya – both Peter and I really enjoy them so we have been roasting them at home over the BBQ. I digress. Anyway, the pictures of the shops below were taken at about 8 p.m. on a Friday night. The area is lovely, colorful and lively.

But of course, since we were out to celebrate, we wanted to find a pub. And find one we did. The pub pictured here is unlike anything I have ever been in before.

The name of the pub translated is "Peanut." Inside the floors were covered with piles and piles of peanut shells (we are talking 2 feet deep) and tables in the shape of peanuts. I know, you might say, Big Bad John’s in Victoria has peanut shells all over the floor, too. Yes, I know, and Big Bad John’s is a watering hole beyond compare in its own right with women’s underclothes hanging from the ceiling and colorful local characters. But the Peanut was something else. At the Peanut, you can drink beer or vodka. Nothing else. No mixers for the vodka, no water, no juice, no wine, nothing. You may have beer or vodka. And there is only one kind of beer and one kind of vodka. Efes or Absolut. Pick you poison. Never in my life had I heard of such a thing. We opted not to stay there as some of us wanted to drink wine that evening but I had to take a picture in case anyone reading this is in Ankara and wants to sit in piles of peanuts flipping coins for drinks. Heads for Efes and tails for Absolut.