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LAURA GAVINSKI '06 SPENDS SUMMER
ABSORBING LANGUAGE AND CULTURE OF TURKEY
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| Laura
Gavinski '06 on a Bosporus cruise in Istanbul |
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It was two o’clock in the morning
when my flight from Washington arrived in Ankara. I distinctly remember
squinting through the tiny airplane window, trying to catch a glimpse
of the city in which I would spend the summer. I had not slept in
more than 48 hours, yet I was wide awake, excited, apprehensive
and terrified. Although I had spent a semester traveling around
Europe, my trip to Turkey was the first time I had been to Asia,
and I was not quite sure what to expect. It was only five months
before that day that I had decided to apply for the State Department
Critical Language Scholarship. After spending a semester during
my junior year studying the European Union in Freiburg, Germany,
I had decided to write my senior thesis in political science on
Muslim immigrants in the European Union. Turks make up a significant
portion of this group, and I found myself interested not only in
the Turks who were already living in the European Union, but also
Turkey’s accession process to the EU.
For the purposes of graduate school and the career
in diplomacy that I hope to develop, it seemed like a natural extension
of my studies to learn Turkish. The Critical Language Scholarship
Program provided me with the opportunity to begin making this goal
a reality. The program is sponsored by the U.S. Department of State
and the Council of American Overseas Research Centers, and its goal
is to expand the language capacity of Americans in critical languages
such as Arabic, Bangla and Turkish by providing scholarships for
in-country study to students at all levels of university education.
Armed with Merhaba (hello in Turkish), the
only word I had managed to pronounce and memorize from my phrase
book, I stepped off the plane and into the unknown and was surprised
at how familiar it felt. Ankara, home to more than four million
people, was transformed from a small village into a capital city
virtually overnight. Turks and Americans alike frequently asked
me why I was studying in Ankara rather than Istanbul. I have often
heard the analogy, Ankara is to Istanbul as Washington, D.C. is
to New York City, and, having seen all four cities, I think it is
accurate. Home to the national government and a large diplomatic
community, downtown Ankara is full of high-rise apartment and office
buildings, wide streets full of traffic at all times of the day
and countless cinemas, museums, shops, restaurants and bars. Yet,
aside from a few neglected Roman remains, a citadel that has been
worked on by almost every Anatolian civilization since the Galatians
and the truly magnificent Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, Ankara
lacks the historic majesty of Istanbul. It also lacks the hordes
of tourists that flock to Istanbul. As one of the relatively few
Americans in Ankara, this proved to be a huge asset to me in making
friends and learning the language.
If there is one thing that defines Turkish people
in my mind, it is their immense generosity and hospitality, and
I was privileged to meet many wonderful people over the summer.
I can’t count the number of times that I explained to an awed
face that I was indeed American, and I could speak some Turkish.
On the street, in a store or on the bus, these conversations began
with politeness and pleasantries but quickly turned into serious
discussions, invitations to visit and promises to keep in touch.
Even though the scholarship had provided me with a
place to live in Ankara, a spot at a great language school and an
impressive group of students with whom to study, actually learning
the language was not such an easy task. Turkish is most closely
related to Hungarian and Korean and, as I quickly discovered, is
completely different in vocabulary and syntax from English and both
of the foreign languages I had studied at Haverford, Spanish and
German. Since I had never studied Turkish before, it was about a
full week before I could muster up basic sentences, and so the meantime
it was difficult and frustrating at worst and triumphant at best.
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Kocatepe
Mosque in Ankara |
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I lived in a dorm with about 15 other women. From
the outside, it was a large, rather menacing-looking building, but
on the inside there were colorful bedrooms, several study rooms
and two older women who made sure we kept our rooms clean and never
hesitated to ask where we had been or tell us that we looked like
we were gaining weight. Neither of the two women spoke any English,
and that did make things difficult at the beginning when basic communication
was done by pointing and flailing, and also later when we were trying
to negotiate a curfew or kitchen privileges. Over the years I have
learned that traveling is mostly about adjusting, and adjust I did.
I started coming home at midnight every night, turned up the powerful
beat of my techno music and began putting yogurt on almost everything
I ate, which I still do sometimes.
I spent my days in four to six hours of language class
followed by lazy warm afternoons wandering around the city, perusing
through the range of cheap knicknacks to valuable antiques at the
bazaars or sipping tea in one of the multitudes of cafés.
It was tough being a foreigner at times. With my light hair and
eyes, I had a hard time blending in, and there was not much English
spoken outside of diplomatic circles and universities. Yet, the
more Turkish I learned, the easier it got, and there was always
someone willing to help. Of course the summer was not all work.
My group also spent a few long weekends traveling to Istanbul, Cappadocia,
Antalya, Amasra and Gordion.
In my view, the cultural exchange was the most important
and successful part of the program. For many of the Turks that I
met, I was the first American that they had ever met, and so long
conversations greased with Raki, a popular anise-flavored liquor,
were filled with talk about American culture and policy. I was pleasantly
surprised to find little hostility towards the American government
and Americans in general, given the disagreements between Turkey
and the U.S. over the Iraq war and the crisis in Lebanon, which
reached its pinnacle while I was in Ankara. Instead there was a
mutual curiosity and commitment to discussion peppered with some
instances where we just decided to agree to disagree.
I never quite got clear answers to my questions about
the EU. At least among university-age Turks, I encountered pronounced
skepticism and even apprehension. As my roommate, a teacher from
Istanbul, told me: EU membership has many benefits for Turkey, but
there are also costs. It is fashionable right now to discuss how
Turkey is currently in a unique position between East and West,
but this internal conflict has always been there. One needs only
look to the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations to see the rich history
that has shaped this privilege and dilemma, one that is not likely
to be resolved anytime soon, whether or not Turkey joins the European
Union. Still, it is Turkey’s young people that will shape
its path into the future, and few doubt that this path leads vaguely
westward.
— Laura Gavinski '06
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