Tömer

The University of Ankara’s Tömer language school has offices in all the major cities in Turkey. The Antalya office is located about 10 minutes from the cultural center and 50 minutes from my apartment in çallı. My morning commute has the potential to be considerably shorter. There is a brand new tram line that runs directly in front of my apartment building to a market complex about 50 meters from Tömer. Unfortunately, whoever was responsible for building the tramway did a crappy job and after three days of operation in March, the whole system collapsed and shut down; something about bad bricks and trains de-railing. Classes at Tömer start promptly at 9:00 in the morning so I am up and in the shower by 7:30. I follow the abandon tramline for about 2 miles before stopping to buy a büyük simit from a chubby little Turkish man with a white mustache on the side of the road. A simit is essentially a circular breakfast pretzel with no salt drowned in sesame seeds. Best part about them is they cost a whopping 60 kuruş (40 cents).

Tömer is located on the top three floors of an office building on a busy Antalya street. My friend from the Cultural Center, James, and I are the only Americans in our class of 11. The other students are from various Eastern European nations. Our seating arrangement is reminiscent of Cold War Europe. James and I, representing NATO sit on the far right side of the room underneath the clima. On the other side of the Iron Curtain are the three Russians and two Kazak girls. The Germans sit in the middle.

Besides being the only Americans, James and I are also the only men in the room. The class also seems to have an overtly feminine theme to it. In the first 3 days we have learned the words for lipstick (ruj), earring (küpe), hair brush (tarak), mirror (ayna), perfume (parfüm), and hair accessory (toka). Our teacher is an extremely energetic Turkish woman who likes to jump around, wave her arms, and make high pitched chirping noises. Her constant energy keeps the class engaged and focused on the topic.

Tömer is not for the linguistically faint of heart. Because none of us have a common language to communicate in, 100% of the class is conducted in Turkish. Our teacher speaks only Turkish and French fluently. So if James or I have a question about the material, the best way to ask it is in French. If the Germans have questions they ask them in English to James (whose French is better than mine) who then translates the question into French for the teacher.

My Turkish book says that “The Turkish language, like Turkish delight, is sweet and melodious.” If I had to pick a food to describe Turkish it would not be Turkish delight. Turkish is like my mother’s halibut fish tacos; unexpectedly crunchy with lots of hard k’s and j’s. It is missing a few ingredients (W, X, and Q) and has a bunch of extra flavors that I can’t identify mixed in (ç, ş, ğ, ı, ö, and ü). Fish tacos are made from a mix of seemingly unrelated items that would never normally be combined: Alaskan fish, Mexican tortillas and bargain-brand American salsa. Likewise Turkish blends elements of Arabic, Greek, French, and Turkmen into a beautiful and fascinating language. Luckily, unlike the tacos Turkish doesn’t make me gassy.

After 4 hours of Turkish class, we are released from the classroom. I usually head up to the café on the top floor for a low-price student lunch with some of the international students. Then James and I meander over to the cultural center where we spend the afternoon doing homework, reading, and helping Renata with chores around the center. Yesterday I re-organized the fiction section of St. Paul’s library and found a biography of Atatürk which I am now reading. Eventually I pack up my things and walk back to çallı.

This weekend I am helping Andrew house-sit at the Reynolds. They live out in the sticks outside of Antalya. They have two bluish colored French Bloodhounds and a swimming pool. Sunday I am going to a country bazaar on the outside town.