YES Abroad Article

This article I wrote for YES Abroad was put on their website today as an Impact Story. Here is the link below:

Dancing in Denizli

Learning More than One Language

I knew this year would be filled with new challenges and experiences. However, before I left I was only thinking of how incredible this year will be and seemed to just dismiss the fact that there actually will be some difficulties. I was blinded by my excitement and I quickly realized once I arrived there were some challenges to overcome.The biggest challenge  arrived right when I stepped off the plane and it was the fact that I didn't know the language. I obviously recognized this beforehand but I guess I just assumed I would just magically absorb it throughout the year. Little did I know that being completely surrounded by non-English speakers every hour of every day may be the toughest challenge I have ever undertaken. It definitely takes a toll on your brain. It's not uncommon for me to lie awake at night mumbling common Turkish phrases, or to forget simple English words. For instance, I spent about 30 minutes one day trying to recall what a bottle cap was in English. The worst is the wave of fatigue that hits me at night when my Turkish brain turns off. This can be especially tough because Turkish families generally talk and drink tea late into the night. Some may think one who stares at bottle caps and talks to themselves may be mentally insane, however I assure you: they are probably just immersed in a foreign language.

Denizli Local Newspaper Headline

Although when I decided to join my community's traditional dance group I had no idea it would be like learning an additional language. Unfortunately, as I grew up I tended to distance myself from the arts. I've always been on the baseball field rather than the stage. So when I found out about this dance class through my parents I knew it was a ludicrous idea for me considering I have zero experience in the field of dance. But of course I jumped on it, because that's why I am here: to broaden my boundaries. So I fell right into it and as expected I had no idea what I was doing. These foreign movements to foreign music with directions in a foreign language were almost near impossible to deal with. I started realizing that I was having the same difficulties that I have with learning and speaking Turkish. For instance, a lot of the time I forget about what my arms are doing and only focus on my legs which causes everyone to stop and stare at me. It occurred to me that this is the same stare I get when I mix up the words "Aunt" and "rug" in school.

Learning from the Saz Master

The third and most difficult language I find myself learning this year is the language of Turkish music. The last time I played an instrument I was eight years old and running away from my piano teacher's house. I've always had a great appreciation for traditional music, and I just assumed it was for me to listen to not to make. So when presented with the opportunity to take saz lessons (an ancient Turkish string instrument) I was pretty apprehensive. However throughout this year I've developed a motto that can apply to all the different cultural situations I find myself in. For instance, when handed cow stomach soup complimented with pickle juice as the beverage, you just gotta shrug your shoulders and say why not. I treated this situation in the same way and dove right in. Understanding the oriental beats and rhythms is no different than learning Turkish or traditional dance. So when my saz teacher tells me to relax my fıngers (which is impossible to do) it is no different than trying to pronounce Turkish words like "muvakaffassızlaştıramadakilarımız."

The beauty of being here is that I have the opportunities to explore different areas of learning that I never would have in America. This year is fostering new life long interests and the wider range of interests I develop while here the more I learn about myself. 

Saz: Week 1

I have been playing the Saz a traditional Turkish string instrument for about 3 weeks now. My host parents provide for an in home Saz lesson every Sunday from this awesome old Saz master. He drives 30 minutes from his village into Denizli every Sunday. I want to track and show my progress over the next 7 months so I will post an update video of my the new songs I learn every few weeks or so.

A Day in My Host Family's Village

I’ve been here long enough to notice the many small, one mosque villages set back in the huge valley’s that I’ve driven through. But to actually go into one, to meet the average people living there is a different story. I traveled to Baklan a rural village about an hour outside of Denizli with my host mom, sister, two cousins and uncle. My uncle grew up here and was really excited to share his village with me. 

He picked us up bright an early and we headed out. In small villages like this one of course everyone knows each other and many people in the village gathered to greet us as we arrived. The first thing my uncle did was head straight for the poppy seed and sesame seed shop. I followed him into this hand built wooden shack and was greeted by two old women hand grinding poppy seeds and sesame seeds. They even let me mix the seeds roasting in a large pot over an open fire. This was my first real look at some of the traditional living in rural Turkey. Stocked up with fresh ground sesame and poppy seeds we headed over to home where my uncle grew up. His house is a two story complex housing most of the extended family and there was a small plot of farm land behind the house where my uncle’s father made living. 

After meeting my extended family and many hugs, kisses, and cheek squeezes all the men headed down to the village café. It was filled with old men sitting on old plastic chairs, drinking tea and thumbing prayer beads. I really enjoyed watching these old men discuss topics from politics to farming, just as if I was sitting at a diner in Loveland, Nebraska. The village was set right up against a mountain front and some of the older parts of the village reach up into the mountains. We hiked up toward the old mosque which was built by the Ottomans in the 1700’s. Here we looked at the old mosque and explored the old Ottoman cemeteries nearby. 

Our appetites began to grow as we hiked through these steep stone roads so we retreated to the family bread-baking building behind the house. I walk in to find seven old Turkish women covered in traditional village clothing, a head scarf and huge pants usually covered in flower patterns. They were all sitting down and rolling dough and baking it on the large circular iron stove. They would sometimes fill this dough with seasoned zucchini or spinach. I sat in there for a while listening to the old women chatter about the gossip in the village while they fed me all of the fresh pastries they were making. 

 

This trip had a very profound effect on me considering that my family comes from villages just like this one. Throughout the day I felt that I had some sort connection or bond with these villagers and made this a day I will never forget.

The welcoming atmosphere from everyone in the village and their desire to share their customs and their ways with a foreigner like me is something I am very grateful for. Many of the villagers asked me when I will come back to see them. I certainly will never forget some of the people I met and I can’t wait to visit again.

Spending Christmas in an Iranian Church

One may ask how in a year I went from spending Christmas in a rural Lutheran church in Marysville, OH to an Iranian Protestant church in Denizli, Turkey.


A few days before Christmas I asked my host  family about possible churches in Denizli. They told me the location of the only one in the whole city which was located in Yenişehir neighborhood. Only a 10 minute walk from my school, so the next day after school I went out looking for the church to inquire about the Christmas service. I arrived to a large house with a cross on the side and knocked on the door. It was completely enclosed in a fence and the windows were tinted.  I knew something was weird when I began talking to the man who opened the door, it seemed that he didn’t understand me at all. He never even replied and I didn’t think my Turkish could be so bad that this man couldn’t understand a word of it. He called back to another man in the back of the church who came over and greeted me in Turkish. He then invited me in for coffee where he explained to me that this is an Iranian Protestant Church and everyone here speaks mostly Farsi. 

One of the Iranian friends I made that evening

Many of the Iranians in this church came to Turkey to escape religious persecution and some of the families live in the 3rd story of the building. Iran has a very old and rich Christian history. However it has always been a minority religion in the region. Zoroastrianism being the majority religion before the Islamic conquest. Many of the Christian communities in Iran today are made up of old minority ethnic groups such as Armenians and Assyrians. These churches conduct they're liturgy in their ethnic languages and not Farsi. This church I was at however was made up of ethnic Farsi speaking Persians. In the 18th and 19th centuries there were a few attempts from Protestant missionaries to evangelize Iran. These efforts left a few convert churches to battle persecution for the rest of their existence in Iran. And when I say "a few" I'm not far off considering that Christians make up .155% of the population. So it is the descendants of these converts who make up this church.

The Christmas service would be packed with all of the Iranian Christian families in Denizli and the whole service would be in Farsi. This of course is something I would never turn down. When I arrived Christmas day I was greeted by many smiling and welcoming Iranians who spoke very little Turkish let alone any English. I was ushered into the crowded basement and while dodging running screaming Iranian children  I met and attempted to talk with many of the families. When the service began with Farsi songs that were read off the projector screen in the Farsi alphabet, I knew I was a long way from home. But as the service progressed with scripture readings, the sermon, and children sermon time I began to realize how close to home I really was. At the end of the service Santa Clause came bursting through the church doors and everyone erupted in the Farsi version of Jingle bells. I couldn't stop laughing at how incredible this whole situation was and I realized that finding situations that can be so different from my home but yet intimately related is what makes this cultural immersion so life changing.