Turkish Tune

A Turkish Tune that has been stuck in my head for the past week

Kasma by Yalın

Granted, looking at the lyrics just made my addiction that much worse

Kuş uçuşu burdan ne tutar oralar
Hani kapasam gözleri karşımda sen vardın
Hani aşkta mesafe yoktur falan tamam
Ama dokunmak sarılmak diye bir şeyde var

Kasma kasma kasma kasma
Kasmadan da olur işte
Özlüyorsan duramıyorsan
İçine atıp susma böyle

Gel diyorum sana ben
Bu iş olur diyorum sana ben
Tutma tutma tutma tutma
Elinden kayar böyle

Sert düşüşe razı gönül o kahraman
Sabrına az hayran çokça düşman
Bir temas bir koku bir sese inanan
Yanında durmalı yarın da olmalı




The Nanny Diaries: Istanbul

I give you round two of the Nanny Diaries: Istanbul

I have been opened up to an entirely different world in Istanbul via baby-sitting. No there are not leprechauns with pots of gold at the end of rainbows (although that would be pretty fantastic), but rather the life of children growing up in the city and participating in extracurriculars.

I always wondered what it was like to be a swimmer. I always viewed it as hours upon hours of lap-swimming in an overly chlorinated pool to exit prune-like, but maybe I was missing something…nope not missing something. My babysitter duties of taking my little friend to swim practice proved that my theory was close if not spot on. If I could go back in time I would still choose the Saturday morning soccer game days with 10 fields squished together, orange peels acting as pseudo mouth guards and being saturated like a sponge with sweat. Yep those were the glory days. Now the little ones look to be having fun in the pool – but when you get to the golden age of 10 it seems that life as a swimmer starts looking bleak. Kat – at what age does swim practice become really dreadful? (:

So my mornings are passed at the pool/sports center chilling sweating in bleachers – really it is like a sauna in there. The parents probably sweat as much as the kids (do you sweat when swimming??) I pass the time with academic readings or small chit-chat with the other parents. Not to mention the whole “my child is the best” is a worldwide phenomenon – not just within the US. Oh and Malcolm Gladwell – yep his books are popular here too as one of the fathers was reading Blink which lead to a long conversation between the two of us – until he stopped mid-sentence to cheer his son on…what this is all showing to me…not ready for parenthood and I am blessed to have two awesome parents who saw me through 18 years of sports practices – sunshine, rainfall and snow –> you guys rock. So maybe when it comes to the winter time swimming is a better option?? Nope – that’s when you do basketball or volleyball – until you realize you are too short and then you find the glory in indoor soccer.

Post swim practice means scrubbing my little friend down to the bones so that chlorinated fumes stop wafting off her, the 10 minute hair blow-drying session (that’s more time than I have been spending on my own hair) and then it is the adventure of hailing a taxi and getting said driver back to the right apartment. I’m nervous enough to hail a taxi, but with a 5 year old in tow – well you gotta move quick. A toss into the taxi might be required on times, and a few head bumping into doors has maybe also happened…maybe…no tears though so I think I am still in the clear. Probably thinking I am a horrible babysitter now, but really I am quite excellent. I have it all down from the big city travel and fall crafts that incorporate paint to being an excellent swing pusher and tent builder. I should definitely go put those on my CV right now.

Cheers from the babysitter


The Nanny Diaries: Istanbul

So I think I have mentioned this already, but just in case I haven’t I got extremely lucky and scored a baby-sitting gig for my semester in Istanbul. The family is quite wonderful and the little girl is adorable.

Now finding bathrooms in Turkey can be a challenge. That challenge gets upped by about 86 times when it is a 5 year old who need the bathroom. When a little tod tells you they gotta go potty it’s pretty much an immediate need. Call the emergency squad and bring out the flashing lights because it’s a do or die type of scenario.

How do you make that already difficult challenge that much more challenging? Well I can answer that. You are on Istanbul’s equivalent of Michigan Avenue. The situation calls for an immediate scanning of your surroundings and picking the one location/restaurant that is decent enough looking that it won’t be an awful bathroom and where the people look friendly enough to let your little pal use the bathroom without being a patron.

So there we are shuffling into the restaurant and when I first asked if there was a toilet the guys looked super skeptical until I pointed down to my little clinger and they gave me pity. However, there was a line and it was a one stall type of place. Thankfully those in line let us jump ahead . Women of every nation can relate and that would of just be downright mean if they didn’t let the little one go.

So, now I find myself asking my little pal if she needs to use the potty all the time. Really didn’t think I could overuse that word, but I certainly have.

ps it took about 10 hours of hanging out with my little friend for her to say other things besides “I gotta go potty”. Little steps, little steps.

Cheers to living out a nanny diary type of life