The last list I shall suffer upon you is one I had been compiling in my head throughout this entire trip. It’s something that has always fascinated me and it’s generally what I spend my time observing when travelling in a foreign culture. So without further ado:

(Though to be completely honest, I’m not sure if you should really be listening to me, because the best I got was Dutch)

Hmmm, that’s a novel idea – learning the language of the country that you’re visiting? You mean America’s cultural imperialism hasn’t switched everyone to English yet?

Well, actually most people speak some English. But seriously, learning at least some Turkish not only helps you blend in, but you get instant effort points by the natives. So once you learn Turkish, start muttering it to your friends as you walk by shopkeepers and you’ll seem Turkish in no time.

By the way, I totally failed on this one. However, if you need some help, here are the Turkish words I learned:

And that sums up all the Turkish I learned this trip. So yeah. Do better than I did.

Don’t get me wrong, guidebooks are great. But memorize the contents in your hotel room. Otherwise you run the risk of repeating this said incident: http://turkishdelights2010.blogspot.com/2010/06/last-night-together.html. Remember? *shudder*

Despite culturally being one of the world’s biggest prudes, Americans loooove to show some skin. However, in most other cultures, only those of ill repute would dare leave the house in that low cut blouse and those Daisy Duke denim shorts. Yes, that might be your cute outfit that you wear to all the jorts parties, but unless you want invite conversation topics like ne kadar?, leave the tube top and 5 inch heels at home.

And avoid the flip flops. Not only very American, but you will fall and break your neck. Stones are slippery. I speak from experience.

What’s that? You were born blond with blue eyes? Hmmm…well, that might present a problem. Well, when all else fails, resort back to the first step: learn Turkish.

If you do happen to be graced with dark features, dye your hair red. Bright red. Ironically enough, you’ll fit right in.

Yeah, I don’t know what Turkishness is either.

Bursa. The soccer team whose total budget was less than the salary of one of the star players on any of Istanbul’s teams. Bursa. The team no one cared about, or even thought anything of. Yes, Bursa. The winners of the national cup. Sighhhh. But if you see a green and white striped flag, you’ll know why.

People will offer you tea. Or Turkish coffee. ACCEPT. First of all, most of the time it is free, and one should never, ever turn down something that is FREE. Second of all, it gives you a time to bond and chat. Third of all, if you have just eaten, your food will have time to digest. And fourth of all, and most importantly, if you have Turkish coffee, you can read your fortune.

Steps to reading your fortune:

1.       Drink your coffee, leaving behind the gritty dregs. Eat only if you are starving or in the middle of an intense conversation and have the tendency to fidget.

2.       Flip cup upside down and let sit. Have an insightful conversation. DON’T leave cup unattended. Not only could the fortune be contaminated, but waiters have this unfortunate tendency of clearing away said cups, foolishly assuming you are finished with them. Pshh.

3.       After the remaining liquid has drained, examine the inside of the cup. Observe and take note of the shapes that form on the side of the cup.

4.       Channel your inner psychic as you interpret your fortune. Psychic abilities are said to increase if your friend sings the Twilight Zone’s theme song creepily in the background.

In fact, if you’re brave enough, grab a few locals and partake in the Great Headscarf Debate.

The Turks love Rumi. They love his poetry. They love his shrine. So you too must learn to love Rumi. Now in a perfect world, you should actually read his poetry and fall in love with it. Yet, I do understand that people are busy and unfortunately there are times where one gets distracted by higher callings. Like…*cough* naps…

So if this should happen to be the case with you, as much as the book lover in me cringes at the thought, here’s my advice:

·         Memorize a few Rumi stories and casually drop them in daily conversation

·         If someone asks you to explain, simply say that dervishes have spent forty years meditating on the first story of the Mesnavi, so it would be foolish to think one understands it at this point in one’s life

·         For good measure, bemoan the government’s building of the Rumi Cultural Center a block away from his shrine.

‘Nuff said.

Ok that concludes Ellen’s Guide to Becoming a Turk. I have no credentials. I failed miserably at this. Everyone I met spotted me as an American from a mile away. But the advice is still sound. Enjoy!

One last post after this. This time for real.