The four T's- Things Take Time in Turkey

According to the Fulbright advisor of one of my colleagues, that's an important mantra to keep in mind here. So far, I would have to agree. For example, one obvious and constant question for me since I arrived has been: "How do I register for my masters-level classes?" At various points in the last four weeks, I have been told I would have to visit the registrar, register with the department and register online. 0 for 3 on that one. Yesterday all the interns got emails saying the head of teacher services had sent our class info to the registrar's office, and we were all set. The hours I spent searching for those offices or the online registration system? Eh, mm, not so useful.

There are multiple examples of such frustrating and stressful logistical complications. The uncertainty of our living situation after the first three weeks, the mysterious five extra hours of contact time in our contacts that haven't been assigned, the internet connections in our current dorms, the date our passports will return to our possession...I could go on. It's enough to make the vein throb on a yoga master's forehead.

But here's the thing: the polychronic sense of time and laidback, helpful attitude is so pervasive in Turkey, you can't help but feel like if anything did go terribly wrong, it would get fixed. Last week I boarded a bus to head home from the gym because my knee was sore. The driver said he was going to middle campus, but when we came close to my street, he kept going to the music building. At the music center, everyone else on the bus got off, and I prepared to give the driver a nasty look for continuing after I said I needed to disembark. Instead, he motioned me to sit down, turned the huge touring bus around, and went back DOWN my street to drop me off. I'm still not entirely sure if this was on the actual route, but you have to love a city where the bus drivers remind you of the nice woman who took you to kindergarten your first day (or second day, sorry Mom, I can't remember if you drove me the first day).

Overall, at least 75% of people I come in contact with at Bilkent I would classify as "nice" or better on the personality scale. In contrast, working at a similar school in China it was definitely closer to 25-50%. Panama wouldn't be a fair comparison, but it's definitely the frontrunner for schools in foreign countries I have worked at (partly because I worked at an NGO there, not a school, and partly because the coolest guy I worked with was Costa Rican, not Panameno). There are good teachers anywhere you go (only in MSAD49, however, do they come close to outnumbering the also-ubiquitous mosquito). But in Ankara, the guy who makes the photocopies, the guys who serve you lunch, and the woman who tells you the police department isn't giving your passport back for another week are all very nice, too. Even the COMPUTER HELP DESK GUY was fairly painless to get help from Saturday!!

So, even if I can't properly subject myself to the masochistic fall ritual of watching the Sox fall apart or bump chests with anyone over the latest TD pass thrown by my favorite male model, at least there is a sense of security in the basic kindness of strangers that, in the long run, will probably account for more.