The Chill.

I arrived in Istanbul on September 1, at the end of the summer, in the middle of a massive heat wave.

Or maybe that's just normal for Turkey....

Thank goodness, the place we where we were staying in Taksim was well-equipped. By which I mean... it had air conditioning.

However, after the few days in Istanbul, I returned with Ryan to Bursa -- the first major capital of the Ottoman Empire, the fourth largest city in Turkey, home to the mountain Uludağ and the Iskender Kebap -- my new home.

My new home is also on the top floor of a five story apartment building and... wait for it.... has no AC.

Boo.

So, it's been pretty hot.

After the first few 100º days, the temperatures began to drop slightly and I began to get used to the heat (as much as I could, being from Vermont).

But I've been a little jealous of all of my friends posting pictures of apple-picking and pumpkin spice lattes (which they actually have in Turkey, strangely enough).  I guess it's made me kind of nostalgic for autumn on the East Coast, especially in New England.

Then, yesterday, it rained.

All day.

Halle-fucking-lujah.

Because right now it's 63º.

Ryan is wearing a sweatshirt.

I didn't wake up in a pool of sweat at all last night.

I went for a run this morning and had to wear a long-sleeved shirt.

And, right now, I am happily (not to mention comfortably) curled up on the couch, with a hot cup of coffee, wearing long pants, and not positively dreading the idea of going to stand over the hot stove to cook breakfast (brunch?).

So, happy fall from a happy girl.

Endless love.

This is life.... in Turkey.

In the 3 weeks that I have been in Turkey, I have been told that I am beautiful, quite possibly, more than I have been told so in my entire life.

Great.

Who doesn't like being told they're beautiful?

I'm just not always sure it's genuine.

Not to say that people are secretly calling me hideous behind my back, rather that Turkish culture seems to be kind of obsessed with the idea of beauty.

Like, of all compliments, the one a woman would most like to hear is that she is beautiful.

Not intelligent or charming or charismatic.

Just beautiful.

I have been introduced to new students as the "new teacher who is also very beautiful".

I have been told by my students that I "have a great accent", that I am "energetic and fun", but these compliments are always followed by "....and of course you are so beautiful."

People also like commenting on my beauty to Ryan.

Again, it's not like I hate being called beautiful.  It's always a nice thing to hear. 

However, I don't think my physical appearance really has much to do with my teaching abilities.

And I like to think that my boyfriend is with me for at least a few reasons other than how pretty I am. 

It's a different culture.

And I knew going into it, that being a woman would be a very different experience in Turkey than it is in other areas of the world where I have lived and travelled.

And for the most part, Turkey has surprised me.

Before I left home, I did quite a bit of reading up on what it was like to travel and live in Turkey as a woman --

A lot of people warned against it.

A lot of people gave strict lists of what women can and cannot wear.

And a lot of people gave advice as to how a woman should act towards men.

Apparently all of these people need to chill the fuck out.

I'm sure it helps that Ryan and I are usually together, but I never feel unsafe here.

I can wear a tank top or a dress that shows my knees and... drumroll... no one cares.

And, while our interactions are limited due to the language barrier, the people here have been so kind and hospitable.

I guess it's just little differences that I notice.

I get a lot of strange stares when I am running in the park.

Maybe it's because I'm the only person running.

The number of strange stares escalated the day I wore shorts.

So now I wear pants.

And the one night that I went out to run errands while Ryan was at school, people seemed very skeptical of the fact that I was out alone at that time of night (approx. 8pm).

So maybe, from now on, I run my errands during the day.

And the "you are so beautiful" thing.

Worse things have happened.

Pideli Köfte

Greetings from Bursa.

I'm not here to write something profound about cultural differences or personal fulfillment, so if that's what you're expecting, I suggest you stop reading now -- but, I think this will be worth your while.

Bear with me.

For months now, Ryan has been telling me about Pideli Köfte -- a local dish here in Bursa.

Bread, meat, tomato, yogurt, butter.

Sure, sounds good. Sounds fattening. Sounds... dare I say it?... Sounds Ryan.

One thing's for damn sure, doesn't sound like anything I would eat with any degree of frequency.

(Um, hi, where is the spinach?)

But, after a few exciting (albeit exhausting) days in Istanbul, we arrived in Bursa and I decided to humor him.

So, after walking around Bursa a bit, we reached the Pideli Köfte street.

Yes, a street full of restaurants that serve... wait for it... Pideli Köfte.

So we're peacefully walking along, when out of nowhere, all of the employees standing in front of one restaurant start loudly greeting Ryan -- shaking his hand, patting him on the back, and talking animatedly.

Clearly he's a regular.

...Not too shocking.

They herded us over to a table and hospitably pulled out the chairs for us.  One man brought over another chair and gestured for me to put my bags in it.

They automatically knew what we were there for.

They brought us a dish of pickles, dried cherries, and hot peppers and left us to wait for our food.

Very shortly, they brought us each a plate and set them in front of us.

A layer of bread, a side of delicious yogurt, a couple slices of tomato, all topped with eight (or so) meatballs.

Sounds good, right?

Wait! There's more.

This first server was directly followed by a second, carrying a pan of sizzling hot, melted butter which he proceeded to (generously) pour over each of our plates.

Sure, I cringed a little bit, but I also know that melted butter is delicious.

So I dove right in.

The verdict?

It was worth the hype.

I think the Turks just know how to make food taste good.

Add butter.

Always add butter.

So cheers to them for doing what everyone else is too timid to do.

Pideli Köfte is delicious.