Disclaimer

Headed off to Pamukkale this morning. Before I do, I need to note that the views expressed on the previous post and all subsequent posts on this blog are mine alone, and I don't represent CLS, the American Councils, or the Department of State in any capacity.

Neither in Amman nor the Maghreb, İzmir'e geldim!

Well, it's summer again, and with school out, I'm in Turkey studying Turkish, hanging around the beautiful city of Izmir thanks the Critical Language Scholarship program.  Though it's designed to prepare young men and women to serve our country in case of war or in the unlikely event of diplomacy, they allow a few grad students along too.  I can only assume it's to scare the undergrads into  pursuing practical careers with their degrees, rather than wasting away in the dark corners of major university libraries for decades.  Unlike the Fulbright-Hays and other scholarly programs that have faced major cuts this year thanks to American voters' aversion to paying any taxes at all, the 'security' aspect of the CLS has saved it from being sacrificed.  Alhamdulillah.

Life in Izmir is pretty wonderful.  I'm staying with a thirty-something Turkish couple in what used to be the Jewish quarter of Izmir.  This has given me the chance to repeat my work in Tunisia of wandering around looking for signs of Jewish community life.  There are three synagogues in this neighborhood, established by each wave of Sephardic Jews expelled from Spain in 1492 and welcomed into the Ottoman Empire.  So far, I've found two of them.  One of them was open, and I might try to go to services at some point in the next few weeks, perhaps when my Turkish is more conversational, though its possible they could be Francophile due to the century-long presence of the Alliance Israelite Universelle, whose schools in Lebanon I have been researching.  Other than a few restored tourist sites like the Asansör area, its history isn't immediately visible, and the community is severely diminished, but a few Ottoman houses and a few interesting urban springs make it a nice neighborhood, in spite of the long flights of stairs one must traverse within it.

Most of the other students on my program live in alsancak (note to my arabist reader(s): the Turkish c sounds like a j), where the school we attend is located.  While alsancak is located on the waterfront where shipping and ferries arrive in the gulf of Izmir, street life is in the narrow lanes of the interior.  They're quite picturesque, with greenery creeping overhead to shade the street, which the many bars and restaurants have filled with tables, almost to the point of making them narrow hallways.  We've taken to one not far from school called Kırmızı, located in an old mansion of some sort, staffed by hip guys who wear ironic tshirts.  It's clear that urban life in Izmir has evolved as many families have moved out to the suburbs to live in highrises on the northern shore of the gulf, or in the sprawl east, leaving many of the gorgeous old houses of the center in desperate need of repair.  But perhaps in its place a new idea of urban space has emerged, though the mix of collapsing buildings and gentrification can be disconcerting.

That said, I'm quite happy to be in Izmir, in this old city on the Aegean coast, rather than in the heat, boredom, and history-lessness of Ankara.  I feel at home here, and the more Turkish I pick up (or Arabic cognates I recognize), the harder it will be to leave in September.

(Photos will be coming soon!)