I woke up early, as I have been doing for the last few days, after a mostly sleepless night plagued with insomnia. Even while laying in bed in the dark, trying to force myself to sleep –  I stay awake — tossing and turning, trying to earn at least a little sleep, perhaps even a dream or two, before the alarm goes off. I often have the best dreams during the early morning, when the lines between consciousness and the dream world are mostly blurred.

..
I went into work to complete my training. The school, the American Academy of English, where no real Americans work, and the curriculum is based on an outdated British method, is quite small yet pleasant. The head staff and other teachers are all welcoming; however, it’s just the method itself that is a bit of challenge because a lot of the words it insists on being taught to students are no longer in everyday use, and the lifestyles of the characters used as examples to explain certain situations are completely out of touch with the modern world. The books were written before counter-culture sexual revolution, before the feminist movement and before the rapid technological advancement that shapes our world today — for example, when the book mentions a ‘wireless’ it isn’t referring to the internet but an old fashioned radio….need I say more?

..
After the training was over, I asked my instructor whether they thought I was ready to take some classes for real instead of pretending with the role play that had dominated the classes till now. Thankfully, he said yes, and would arrange for me to take some classes as soon as possible — which roughly translates as, I’m officially hired!
I left the school feeling great, as if my presence in Istanbul had been legitimized, now that I was to work and earn money. With The Kinks playing in my ear I headed home in a contemplative mood, thinking — as the traffic rushed past, about actively choosing to be here rather than any other place in the world. About choosing this place over my hometown, over living with my family, over England — for me, in that moment on the metrobus, it all made sense — perhaps it was the excitement of having a job, but the pieces seemed to fit into place, I felt a part of the city, even if my part is merely a language instructor. I reached home feeling exhausted and content. The evening invitingly lay ahead and I had already decided what I would have for dinner.

..
And then, my housemate came into my room. The last three weeks have been a bit stressful because of my desperate financial situation; the money I had hoped would last until I got a job ran out exactly three weeks before I officially got a job, and so, as a result I’m three weeks behind on rent. And so, my housemate Volkan awkwardly came into my room to ‘speak’ to me properly, for the first time in over a month (I’m not joking) to explain that he thought I should leave the house next week after paying the rent I owed him, adding that he and his boyfriend ‘are waiting for [me] to leave, so that the boyfriend can move in.’

..
And so, not only am I three weeks behind on rent but I’ve also apparently put the progression of their relationship on hold. I’ve now got one more week left in this flat before I’m homeless; the only problem being, I don’t have enough money to rent a new flat and it’s far too early in my job for me to request some kind of advance payment. The next few weeks will be interesting…

Money is a fairly petty thing to lose friends over. I can sit and list my mistakes when it came to handling my finances and expenses, but those aren’t important — money comes and goes as it pleases, the only problem is, we miss it when it’s gone and take it for granted when it’s here. In my life, I’ve never ever been so poor as I am now, yet at the same time, I’ve never been so rich in terms of my own personal freedom to do whatever I like, I’ve never been so free. It’s quite funny that on the same day that I got a job, I became homeless. I know that in the future, money will be in and out of my pocket, perhaps more will be out than in, but then, I also know what I value more than the notes in my wallet.

Luckily, my brother-in-law offered to drive me to the airport in the early hours of the morning. The night was cold, the moon hung high and bright in a mostly clear sky, though not without a few dustings of clouds scattered across the horizon. I wasn’t sure whether it was just my anxiety, but there was an air of suspense in everything – only drunks, lunatics and anxious travellers seemed to be about; cars drove erratically between lanes with no indication of where they intended to go or where they’d actually end up.

I met Ian at the airport at around 5am; he had been waiting there since midnight. We both looked and felt exhausted and we hadn’t even left the country yet. As if Easyjet flights weren’t headache-inducing enough that they insist on having them at such odd, early morning hours. After check-in, all our efforts were towards fighting against sleep – it infiltrated all our senses and made us vulnerable to believing that we were actually enjoying each other’s company. I kid. I was actually very glad to have Ian coming along with me; I was excited to be able to show him around the city, hopeful that he would find it as inspiring as I do.

After a slightly delayed take-off, we arrived in Istanbul an hour later than planned. The first thing which immediately hit us was the heat; it must’ve been around 25 degrees, which isn’t exactly unbearable, but the combination of being so exhausted from dragging luggage around since the early hours of the morning and having no sleep at all, made the journey from the airport to the flat really difficult. Sabiha Gökçen airport is located at the far end of the Asian side of the city; it deals mainly with domestic flights and smaller airlines. While the airport itself is quite tiny and pleasant, getting to the main part of the city from it feels like a mini-epic journey in itself; the Asian part of Istanbul is far more industrial looking than the European side, with factories and apartment buildings taking up space on most of the skyline.

There’s also a noticeable difference between the pace of life on the Asian side when compared with the European side. There’s always a sense of urgency on the European side, it’s impossible not to get swept away by the crowds and bustling traffic – the only way to survive is to keep up and assimilate yourself with the constantly evolving energy of the city. Compare this with the Asian side, and you’ll find its far easier to relax and just simply slow down. My exploration of the Asian side is limited to two main areas; Kadıköy and Üsküdar, the latter of which is really beautiful district along the coast, with cobbled streets and cafes and restuarants a pennys drop away from the Bosphorus.

I met Volkan (my housemate) at Taksim Square before we took the metrobus to the apartment. Both Ian and I were so exhausted by the time we arrived at the apartment, that we just sleepwalked through the rest of the evening. After we left our luggage at the flat, Volkan had enthusiastically taken us to the shore of the Marmara Sea, which is about a 30 minute walk from the flat, but we were so tired that I don’t think either of us appreciated it as much as he had been hoping. I think as an introduction to Istanbul, Ian was perhaps thrown in at the deep-end – not getting a chance to simply stop, take a deep breath and take in the city. It had been a very rushed and tiring first day, though I’m hopeful it won’t always be like this.

Last Thursday I received two phone calls in the same hour, both inviting me for a job interview; the odd thing is was, I didn’t remember applying to either of these companies, and thought it wasn’t really a good idea to ask. Anyway, I ended up following up one of these interviews (the one that sounded the most legit) and managed to get a job! I’ll be heading out to various companies and holding English classes for small groups of businessmen. I’m quite excited to be starting work because it means my presence in Istanbul will be more permanent, and hopefully I’ll have enough income to enjoy it.
However, I don’t start work till after the 6th of December because I’ll be visiting England next week. I haven’t told my family about my trip, I’m planning on surprising them, I’m just hoping that they’ll be home by the time I arrive.

I definitely hope to update more often, the lack of entries is due to laziness and a lack of ‘wine inspiration’.

As the month of Ramazan slowly edges towards completion, I’m beginning to realise how little time I have left before I set off for Istanbul. In three weeks time I’ll be travelling with my ex-housemate Ian, who will be my ward as it’s his first time to Turkey, and I, a veteran, will be responsible for keeping us both alive.

A list of things to take with me currently includes: Weetabix, my mum’s secret spice mixture, Bombay mix, tea and custard powder. The list is certain to get longer as the date of departure gets closer, however, for the moment these are all the things I can remember missing when I lived there before. Its funny how such ordinary things that I take for granted in England become so valuable when they’re limited; I remember treating the Weetabix bars like bars of gold, trying to savour each and every last bit of them.

As of yet, I have no set return date, though on a tourist visa I’d have to leave the country within three months; which is long enough to secure and settle down with a decent job, having already arranged for a place to stay, albeit unfurnished. The most important thing for me right now is to be able to create a base for myself, from which I intend to travel further afield. One of things (there aren’t many others, honest) I had regretted about my previous stay in Turkey was how unadventurous I had been in regards to the rest of the country. The only other city I had visited was Bursa, a small city just off the coast of the Marmara Sea.

Through some research and advice from a friend, I discovered that there is a train that goes from Istanbul to Teheran; my heart sank with excitement when I first heard about it. It sounded like something out of an old novel; there’s just something so romantic about being able to travel between two iconic, beautiful cities, across the landscape of the Middle East. If I’m able to make this journey it’d be a dream come true for me; Iran has always inspired and intrigued me, and for a visit there to not only be possible, but feel almost inevitable fills me with (anxious) joy!

However, for the moment I have to focus on getting to Istanbul before anything else. There is packing to be done, travel to the airport to be arranged and things to be bought; if all goes well, by this time next month, I hope to be somewhere in the city, showing Ian around, laughing as I smoke shisha and sip on Turkish coffee.

Vandals sleep with smiles tonight.

The looters have taken England,

They worked throughout the night.

And now nothing is right.

.

Hooded demons and Rottweiler’s from hell,

Stopped me on my way home and

Robbed me of what I had; Money, keys, drugs to sell,

I had no dignity before, or did they take it. I can’t tell.

.

Loiterers of London lit matches in the dark alleyway,

Smoked weed and other harmful shit like that,

They don’t feel right in the head, but it’s okay,

Now they just mumble into the night, not knowing what to say.

.

We stood around Brixton, Brick lane, Greenwich, Notting hill,

We spent days and weeks doing nothing but

Eating kebabs, chip butties and drinking till our fill,

We compared trainers, phones and stored beers on the window sill.

.

Stood outside an old lady’s house, she keeps the phone near,

Cowering behind the curtains, she watches us smoke.

The night hasn’t yet ended, but tomorrow is already clear,

We’ll wander through the day, and end up right back here.

.

Sufiyan Siyah

Ash from cigarettes and narghile^[1] huff-puff,

Are mere distractions from the mystical stuff,

.

Pristine packets of fags, plastic lining intact,

The Dervish stretches on stage preparing for the first act,

.

A tiny flame lightens the darkened room,

After the cigarette is lit, it’s out again soon,

.

The music comes alive, ‘an interesting beat,’

Dervish stands centre-stage, pabuç^[2] on his feet,

.

One hand to the heavens, one to the ground,

Fingers circling rims of cups, round and round,

.

The sky opens and welcomes his prayer,

Freshly exhaled smoke begins to cloud the air,

.

Mevlana^[3] and Marlboro together at last,

Like smoke out the window, it’s all forgotten fast.

.

Sufiyan

^[2] shoes

^[3] Rumi

Meanwhile…

Meanwhile, the clay stove wouldn’t light,

The hens pecked away at their seeds,

And, the cows munched on grass,

Trying to boil water during winter in Bihar,

As Sumitra learned, was a pain in the arse.

.

Meanwhile, Bob couldn’t stop himself,

The wedding vows bored him, “exactly how

Long will this bloody thing take?”

He said from the back of the room, Before

Knocking  over and landing in the wedding cake.

.

Meanwhile, the last candle burned out,

Plunging Gülşen’s room into darkness,

The power cut reached its third hour,

Istanbul looked better in the dark,

It went on living, even without power.

.

Meanwhile, Federico looked at himself in the mirror,

He stood in his boxers, tensing his muscles,

His body tall, lean and taut,

Five nights a week he spent at the gym, though,

Picking up women was his only sport.

.

Meanwhile, Jimmy-the-disco-dancer stopped mid hip-thrust,

To lower his raised hand and re-adjust,

Sequins on the inside of his pants began to chafe,

He groaned in pain scaring away his date,

Since when has disco dancing ever been safe.

.

Meanwhile, meanwhile, the world went on,

God made things happened,

Not all of them worth writing about,

Sighing in the sky, he said looking down,

“If only everyone was devout.”

.

Sufiyan

Here is the result:

Dead on the doorstep, blocking the passage,
Now, just a doorstop.
Blood gushing down the stairs,
And out the front door, over flowing
Out- of- the-letterbox.
The welcome mat washed away
By the river that would not stop.
.
Soldiers lying in the street, sleeping
On the runaway children’s map.
Cheek over China, Leg over London,
Snoring, spitting, sucking — their thumbs.
Even the impotent wake up with morning wood.
Fantasies of flashing fire, eating up
That which we promised, to hold onto
Even when we had nothing left.
.
In the middle of the midterm madness
A middle-aged melancholic mushroom moved
Away melting Macbeth’s from their homes into houses.
Drunk on drinks we drank too fast.
Downing away into drowsiness we couldn’t understand.
Deconstructing the destruction we were able to decipher
That the dicks were definitely hard before
They fucked their asses into oblivion.
.
Vomiting out yesterday, and lubricating today in time for tomorrow,
Nothing is to stay. Nothing can make an impression,
Or, give or take, or break or mistake one thing,
For something for more meaningful.
.
Dancing on the disasters of yesterday,
Making even less of what was.
Taking everything literally or horizontally,
Or unilaterally, making decisions that disguise
The dead expressions we’ve become accustomed to.
.
Breaking away from the dear doctors,
Who nursed us into nothingness.
Caught between crying Christians, and
Cynically charged for the crap we’re likely
To experience in the midnight madness.
.
The rapture that releases those
From the ridiculous promises of the world.
The martyrdom which awaits me,
Is to be celebrated before it happens.
Before that happens.
.
The test laid out by God, Allah, the all-seeing-eye
That eyed up everything, especially you.
Taking it up the arse for the Taliban.
Trembling with terror and titillation, and
The only thing I can think of is you,
Standing there looking bored.
Change the channel.

I felt quite strange when I heard about it. She had lived a door away from my old house, I was best friends with her grandson; and, though we’re not really in touch anymore, there was a time when I was at their house every day.

To have it confirmed to you that an aspect of your past that you could look back on favourably is now over, leaves you with an empty feeling. There is nothing which can replace that emptiness, because you’ve moved on from that place literally, and moved on from the memories you shared there.

I know that in the last months, I’ve felt quite antagonistic towards the state of my home life, which isn’t necessarily so bad, but just inspires me to want to move away and pursue other things; I wonder if I’ll be able to look back on this situation positively, and not as something that stifled me. I know that it’s possible. But, I just hope that I can follow my dreams on good terms with the people I’d leave behind.

I know it’s difficult to get what you want, and still please everyone around you. People are bound to misinterpret your actions, and question what you hope to achieve. It’s the natural reaction. And in many ways, it’d be stranger if there wasn’t some kind of opposition. But it’s necessary to remain focused, because I know I couldn’t do it any other way. I feel as if this is all I know. Yet, at the same time, I feel there’s an underlying uncertainty in everything I want.

I can’t make any final decisions now, and at the same time, can’t let any decisions be made for me.

I now have just over one month to write my Dissertation, which is more than enough time. However, there is always the worry that I won’t be able to justify my thesis, and successfully apply the research I’ve done over the last few months (albeit in patches).

Alongside the Dissertation, the question over what I’ll do after university looms over everything I do these days. The desire to be someone and do something is natural, considering the great effect university has had on my personality and self-confidence; and to back down from pursuing whatever else there is to discover would be not only stupid, but a great injustice to the small victories and failures I’ve already experienced along the way.

I’m no longer certain about Istanbul; even though I know I can create a life for myself there that would fulfil both my creative and personal desires and ambitions. However, having spent a year there already, a part of me feels like it’s quite a safe place to want to go back to. I’m already learning Turkish, and I know my way around, so it’d be quite easy to slip back into the city. Whereas, somewhere different would be a whole new challenge.

Staying in England is also an option, though not a preferred one. I know that I can’t stay in Birmingham, but there doesn’t really seem to be anywhere in the UK that appeals to me enough to consider it alongside somewhere like Istanbul. It’s a very frustrating position to be in, because I know I want to be somewhere, doing things for myself; however I don’t want my indecision to slow things down for me. But, for now, I’ll just have to wait until my dissertation is done, only then can any real decision be made. And, who knows, I may change my mind totally about where I want to end up…