May 18, 2012
I am sitting in Ugur and Yagmur's kitchen. It's entirely
Coca-Cola themed, Coca-Cola advertisements from the 30s and 40s line the walls,
and the trademark red is the color of everything from the curtains to the pots
and pans. It is the very embodiment of Yagmur, cheerful and sweet. Something I
figured I should go over: name pronunciations.
Ugur= Ooooor. The "g" is just sort of an extension
of the letter before, and were I typing on a Turkish keyboard, it would have a
small bowl above it. His name means lucky, and given his worship of unfiltered
Lucky Strikes, this is all too perfect.
Yagmur= Yaamoor. Same deal with the "g." Her name
means Rain, which is the total opposite of her remarkably sunny disposition.
Yesterday, at 10:15 am, my flight landed in Istanbul. The
hills of red tiled rooftops were the first things we saw, and the woman next to
me (the one who had been doing laps, ignoring the remarks of our increasingly
annoyed flight attendants) sighed loudly and put a hand to her heart. I
couldn't have said it better myself.
Waiting in line for my visa, I played with a baby who had a
penchant for blowing raspberries, and chatted with his mother. She is Russian,
her husband is Turkish, and they live in New York. They are visiting Istanbul so
that his family can meet the baby, and he can blow raspberries at them. Getting
the visa was easy as pie, and then I was onto the baggage claim and out the
door. There were probably a hundred people waiting with signs of names, and I
almost immediately went into panic mode. I pushed past them and made it out
into the clear, looking for a place to exchange money. To my left, a very
excited and high pitched voice saying my name broke me out of my dumbfounded
and doe eyed state.
Yagmur was coming towards me, full speed. We embraced and
exchanged kisses on the cheek, and I laughed out of relief. Finally meeting her
and Ugur, after five months of facebook messaging, made it all seem real. I
followed her out to the parking garage, where Ugur met us. He grabbed my
suitcases with a smile, the unbuttoned sleeves of his Ed Hardy shirt flowing in
the wake of his movement, reminding me a little bit of Dracula. Once we were
out of the parking garage, we headed through the flower lined streets to Uludag
Café, a restaurant right on the Bosphorous. It was a gorgeous day, warm and
sunny, and the water is exactly the sort of blue it would be in a dream. They
ordered for me, Menemen, a mixture of scrambled eggs, tomatoes, onion, spices,
and green peppers, as well as group dishes. Lots of bread with different
spreads and cheeses, rolls of feta and spinach, and fresh vegetables. The meal
was accompanied by chai, of course, which is quickly becoming my very favorite
drink.
Yagmur's father joined us, and the conversation became
primarily Turkish. This is a rather fun experience for me, listening to the
conversation through body language and tone rather than the real meaning of the
words. Of course I can't really know what's going on, but I have been able to
make out quite a bit about people simply from the way a person speaks or holds
themselves. It's been a fascinating exercise in group dynamics. Perhaps the
most interesting thing about these encounters has been that as the speaker
tells a story, they continue to make eye contact with me as their audience,
even though they know I have no idea what they're saying. Being able to engage
as a listener in these moments has been a very new experience.
We went from there to Ugur's casting agency, because he was
scheduled to have headshots done. As we
walked from the car to the building, we passed countless beautiful people
between the ages of 18 and 30, all waiting to be seen. These women don't play
when it comes to fashion, everyone in line seemed to be in five inch heels and
clothing that appeared to have been tailored for their body. They're
unbelievably beautiful. I felt like quite the fish out of water, being fresh
off the airplane and having worn the same drab clothing for more than 24 hours.
Ugur and Yagmur are old friends with nearly everyone in the
business, including the folks at this Best Casting, his agency. They swept
through the packed lobby and through a door that very clearly read
"PRIVATE," with me tagging along sheepishly behind them. Behind the
opaque walls separating the bare minimalist lobby from the rest, are warm and
lavish offices, with couches, candles, dark wood bookcases and desks, and
beautiful art work. A small, winding staircase leads you upstairs to the studio
and a few more offices, and out back is a covered patio with large tables and
couches. We were served Turkish coffee and seated with another actress from the
agency. Oslam and the other owner sat and chatted with Yagmur, and I was
brought an application. It was entirely in Turkish, so the actress had to
translate for me. She's extremely beautiful, with long black hair down to her
waist and eyelashes as long as the eastern seaboard. She lived in Toronto for
five years, working as a teacher, and as only recently returned to Istanbul.
She was very helpful, and helped me fill everything out, as I did not have a
resume on me.
After I was finished I was led upstairs to have my headshots
done. Keep in mind that it is now Thursday afternoon, and I wearing the same
clothing that I've had on since 5 am Wednesday morning. To put it bluntly, I
look rough. They fix me up a little and set to work, and I proceed to do my
best for the next 15 minutes as various lights are adjusted and the actress
whole helped me downstairs translates for the photographer. My time in Istanbul
is short, so this was mostly just for fun, and was certainly an experience I'll
never forget. I was offered yet another delicious cup of chai and sent down to
an office where Ugur and Yagmur were waiting. They wrapped things up and we
headed further downtown.
My favorite aspect so far about Istanbul is that the city if
made of hills. Downtown, you can watch cobblestone streets rise and fall like
some kind of fairytale. Here, at Ugur and Yagmur's house, every time I look out
in the window (especially in the downpour that has conquered the day), I am
struck by the rolling green and purple, and the word Anatolia somehow seems to
evoke all of the mystery and the power that the image holds.
When we reached downtown we went to a café/restaurant. Life
here seems to move at a relatively leisurely pace. Yagmur and Ugur are in their
off season, his theatre company is closed for the summer and her television
show has finished taping, so they have their teaching jobs and plenty of time
to relax. We sat at the café and slowly sipped beer and chai, inviting their
many friends in the neighborhood to sit down and chat as they passed. I met
probably about ten people that came in and out of the café, all of them
colleagues and friends of Ugur and Yagmur. Everyone is impossibly kind to me,
and disproportionately pleased by my saying "merhaba" and "adun
ne."
After an hour or so, Yagmur and I left Ozgur (one of their
company's actors) and Ugur to the cigarettes and chai, and went to explore some
nearby vintage and antique stores. Endless, endless, endless pieces of art.
More to follow! Out to dinner now!
First off, I love you. Second, ten points for the Dracula reference. Third,we must be sure to see each other before I leave for Scotland.
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