Buggirl's Increasingly Strange Tokyo Tales...

Much of my last three full days in Istanbul has already been documented:

-I took three days of lessons with Ahmet.

-I went to see shows at Kervanseray and Istanbul In.

I was exhausted and wild-eyed when I got to Fazil Studio NYC for the first of three privates with Ahmet Ogren. I vented more than a bit with Gonul as we drank coffee and gossiped/networked/shared information. Ahmet entered and asked me where my color was, after all, I was on vacation…and vacations are in part about getting out into the sun.

As you all know, if I don’t look like the visable woman, then that IS my summer tan.

I’d done two days of workshops with Ahmet (hosted by Tania Luiz) in Osaka last year. I don’t think I wrote much about the content of those workshops because between I had been suffering from bronical-asthma issues (the start of three months of problems and a couple attacks that led me to getting a lung specialist and daily bronchial dialators and emergency inhailers). By day two I had coughed my voice away and had tubes full of watery phlegm. I ended up on six different prescriptions a few days later.

What I did say was this:
Ahmet Ogren is wonderful. I realize that it's the first time that I have studied Turkish Romani style from a Turkish Romani person. It's not about blood lines, my enthusiasim, it's the fact that this is the least filtered from an "Oriental dance" perspective approach I've been taught. It's still comes through that filter, me being who I am and the fact that some fusion and stylistic changes happen when you takeit out of a social context and bring it to a stage or teach it.

When we last left me, I was at Sema’s second apartment.

I awoke early, 7ish. I left bed and tip-toed around the apartment. The two Japanese girls were asleep in the other room and Sema was asleep on the couch. I could not find my skirt or tank top. Damn.

I had a button-up shirt I’d worn over my tanktop. It was a little low-cut but I had safety pins with me to fake an additional button. I had the skirt Sema had given me, but I checked in the mirror and could make out the S logo on my Supergirl Undies. I ended up tieing my head scarf (a black & white silk krama from my first trip to Cambodia) around my hips to cover my secret identity.

It wasn’t up to my usual standards, but I wasn’t naked! It filled my most basic clothing requirements.

I left a note on my pillow explaining that I’d woken up early and that she should text me later-Love, Oksan.

I found my way to a bus stop. Akbil. Some Turkish man took one look at me and kindly offered me his seat. Teshekular. On the bus, once more, I decided to access my email on my iPhone, cost be damned (sometime next month you will probably hear a wail of despair). I felt like I was on a walk of shame without the joy of a bacchanal the night before and was in need of comfort.

Karim had replied to my ranting. In regards to my apprehensions of traveling alone in some areas he said: “i spend a lot of time telling men i meet, all over the world, that they must change. I tell them they must stop swearing, cursing, and potty mouthing. They must edit their behavior and do anything to help a girl feel comfortable.” And briefly spoke about the women in his life (family, friends, etc) and how he’d give anything to make them feel more comfortable in this world. It was what I needed. Turkey had been stirring up a lot of emotions in me about what it is to be female and treated, with many protestations and veneers of politeness, as prey.

I hopped ofｆ the bus near the Cumbus store and walked under the aquaducts and through the park, past men working on out the stationary excersize machines (a feature and sight in many south-east Asian countries that I love sooo much.) I walked and walked back to my hotel.

Once in my room, I set my alarm for 10:15 and fell asleep.

Regret: Not going to Princes Island when I could have.

I had called Sema the evening before and said I was too tired to come out (when I’d called she told me about having computer problems and needing to wait for the guy to fix it) I planned to see Sema on the 13^th and we agreed on 6:00.

I had thought about going to the islands, because I’d mostly figured out how to do so and could have benefited from walking around on a quiet island with no cars…but the travel books that made getting there look easy didn’t make it very clear as to what time I could get back and I didn’t want to stand Sema up.

Instead of the islands, I woke up and tried my luck with the busses by myself. I wanted to see Kariye Muzesi (Chora Church) and more indulge my love of Byzantine iconography.

My book said I needed to take bus Nos 28 or 36KE from Eminonu and stop at Edirnekapi. Those bus numbers mean as little to me as they do to you. I went to Eminonu and walked over to the bus area…and found around 18 bus stands and many busses. I walked around and figured out where the numbers where on the busstops…and just missed 36KE. While waiting for the next one (29 mins? I couldn’t understand the sign) I kept seeing many other busses with Edirnekapi listed as one of the stops…I eventually screwed up my courage to hop on a random bus with Edernekapi listed as one of the stops on it. I suspect that Nos 28 or 36KE may have Edernikapi as their LAST stop and thus are mostly foolproof.

We passed the aquaducts and I wondered how far they were from the Grand Bazzar, as they had been one of the things I’d seen while utterly lost after my first trip to the Bazzar.

Busses only stop at stations if you ring buttons or if someone is waiting and there were no announcements about what the next station is, which is why busses are usually not a transportation method I bother with in foreign countries. I desperately hoped I would know Edirnikapi when I was coming up on it, not when I was passing it. I had a travel map of the area around Chora Church and when I passed an old

Day Four: The Sema Experience Starts.

Sema Yildiz emailed me her number. At some point we spoke on the phone (and I was reminded of how rough but enthusiastic her English is) and agreed to meet at Kabatas tramway station at 6pm for a lesson at her place on the 11^th.

I woke up nice and early (7:30?) on the 11^th. . For four days I’d been waking up at 7:30 to beat the crowds. I ate my breakfast and went to the Istanbul Archaeology Museum on the Topkapi grounds. It was amazing. I took many pictures and was often reminded of how much of my art history classes I have forgotten. “I know these images…sorta.”

Day 4 pictures start after the picture of Me, Reyhan, and Dilek.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=136737&id=644629953&l=b9990f0d48

Maybe the best way to tackle my trip to Orient House on the 10th  is to tackle all my evenings spent at “cultural” dinner shows.

They shows are not great. I recommend them only if there is a specific dancer whom you want to see and you've confirmed that they are performing or if you really want to get an indepth feel for how what we love is mostly relegated to cheesey nightclubs and the performances are all over the map. I imagine it's how Anime fans in other countries, who have created these great mental naratives about how Japan really loves Manga/Anime and it's held in high regard and myths and blah blah feel when they reach Japan and learn...yeah, its a popular part of life, not unlike tabloid newspapers are, but it's not held in high regard by most.

In all, I attended shows at Orient House, Kervansaray, and Istanbul In.

Sometime in day two or three I emailed Sema. I said I was a student of Mishaal’s and a friend of Nourah’s, that I’d attended her Tokyo workshops and would like to do a private lesson with her while I was in Istanbul.

I’d been on the fence about Sema Yildiz, because she’ll be coming to Tokyo again in October. I’d emailed Hale Sultan about privates but hadn’t heard back from her. Mishaal, in her email to me, had suggested maybe one lesson with Sema as it often involved being brought to her house, cooked for, and a bit of experiencing a show or music with Sema afterwards. In short, it might be more about the Sema experience than simply a lesson with Sema. By day two or three I wanted more lessons to be happening or to be cooked for.

But day three, Monday the 10^th, would feature my first lesson! Reyhan! I’d wanted to line up more lessons for as soon as I arrived, but with Ahmet out of the city and no reply from Hale, this would be my first lesson. I was dead right in thinking it might be best to start with lessons early on. Lessons gave me a daily set point where I needed to be and gave me structure when I was feeling my way around the city. In the future I would rather do lessons early (before my body is exhausted) have a weekend and one side trip mid-trip to unwind/refresh/process and then maybe do some follow-up privates at the end.

I can’t tell you what I did the morning of the 10^th. It may have involved the bazzar, as there is a picture of some graves that I know where on the way to the bazzar. I do know that I had made reservations at The Orient House after checking if their head dancer, Birgul, would be dancing. I tried to get my hotel to make the reservation, but Suleman was obviously not used to the hotel-roll in such a thing and just called them and handed the phone over to me when someone answered. I negotiated a reservation with no dinner. I now know the way to do this is to have Sema, or someone Turkish who knows the scene, to call and argue the best price for me…not the hotels/tourguides who will take a cut and not your lonesome (because no one calls for themselves…every place I went to knew EXACTLY who I was). Sema yelled at me for not having gotten her involved in my first two restaurant show trips…but I didn’t know then! I just knew I that part of my trip was Dancer Safari wherein I see dancers in the “natural habitats provided for them here.”