Kimsesizler Yurdu (The Orphanage)



This weekend, the number of Turkish students who were very happy to see me the first time we met increased from about 0.85 to a couple dozen. No, I didn't bring donuts to a study session. And I don't think it had much to do with my wearing a fez to class. The increase was because the kids down at the orphanage were apparently injected with 8 liters of Starbucks' Columbian Narino blend java right before we got there. No one is that enthusiastic about meeting me sober. It was well worth waking up for at 8am on a Sunday (which is saying something, since I never did that to get to Louis Diner).



How did I end up waking up at 8 on Sunday for a trip to an orphanage? It's a long story, beginning with the fact that us SSI's have been trying to latch on to community service projects at Bilkent for a few months now, and continuing with the fact that I couldn't really get to sleep Saturday night because I had a liter of Starbucks' Columbian Narino java in my veins. Last week, my friend Megan finally heard back from the student who runs the orphanage colunteer program, so she and my friend Jeremy and I gave it a trial run. Major success. First of all, I was impressed with the showing of Bilkent students, who managed to pack the full-sized school bus so that people were standing in the aisles on the way there, including some BUSEL students. Good work, team.

Originally we were slated to do some painting, but since it was raining we played inside with the kiddos for a while and then went out for a little bit of wet soccer. I did my best to entertain the attention-span challenged folks inside, busting out everything from the animal noises to showing them my home on a map. One of them, Osman, would have made Uncle Will some proud- he got me to look at my shirt three times so he could trip my nose. I'm tempted to insert a joke here about my out-of-proportion physical retaliation toward Osman on the soccer field, but that would be cruel, seeing as how he's an orphan and all. Instead, I just look at the toys on my desk that I stole from his room and laugh.

Actually, the orphanage was pretty well set for toys and books and furniture, from what I could see. It was pretty impressive. I had expected the dowdy women working there who looked like The Trunchbull, but the level of cleanliness and comfort was a little surprising and heartening for the lives of these youngsters. Granted, I'm glad I never had to sleep in dormitory-style bedrooms when I was a kid, but the furniture in the common areas was pretty sweet, there was a Nintendo (we almost left Jeremy behind because he wouldn't stop playing it), and the place was as clean as if Linda Woods was running it.

Many of the traits that set Turkish people apart- the lack of personal space, the talking really fast even though I obviously don't understand- were magnified in the children. Our old friend Ataturk of course was prominent on every wall. I met several students older than I am from main campus. Overall the experience was a great way to get beyond what I see of the world here on a daily basis, and I look forward to going back. I will do another posting at some point about things there, since we are planning on going back every week now.