Seker Bayram

I've just had a visit from Bayram Bey - a man with a yellow canister strapped to his back. He smiles a lot and sweats even more and, for the price of a glass of coke, he fucked the nervous system of every creepy crawly in my apartment. He's my new best friend and I'm looking to add him on Facebook.

This dude knows his cockroach from a hole in the ground and gave me a brief insight into the life cycle and purpose of various things that scuttle in the night. Here's the scoop people!

1. Cockroaches like humid places with water that doesn't move much. Washing machine outlet pipes are popular, for example. Block such pipes with a plastic bag, it'll both stop the smell and close the door to cockroaches.

The cockroaches that are causing me bother are the "American Cockroach". They come, wander around the bathroom, realise they can't live there, die then startle me to the extreme of squealing like a pre-teen. Twats.

The kind that wait until I'm asleep before eating my biscuits are known as the "German Cockroach"...

2. The 'Kalorifer Bocegi' (literally 'central-heating bug') or 'German Cockroach' are smaller and, though not as prolapse-inducingly scary as the American variety, are apparently more to be worried about. Big black cockroaches can't live in your house and prefer to lie back and wait for the bright light. The Germans wait until you're asleep and lay their eggs (and their beach towels) on everything you own. They're quite happy in your kitchen so you need to go for their nervous system.

One problem with these buggers, is that when you kill them, they expel their eggs. 15 days later, the eggs hatch and that same poison wont effect them. A shoe, however, will.

3. I've always thought of cockroaches as useless creatures whose only function appeared to be to keep me regular. Bayram Bey, however, put me straight... "The sewage pipes in Izmir would get blocked were it not for rats and cockroaches scuttling through the shit and keeping it moving". Nice work guys! I have trouble believing that their sole purpose on this earth is to clear our pipes.

For the time being, however, my house appears to be cockroach free. Bayram Bey, I love you and your yellow canister of joy.

Honest packaging

You remember when Dove ran that campaign of 'real women' with 'real bodies'? Yeah, I know, they weren't really 'real' were they? They had no varicose veins or eye bogies.

Well I was looking for some pants to ease the chaffing of obesity when I stumbled across this vest. This is the antithesis of aspirational marketing. Do-Re-Mi Vests, I salute you.

Not liking this!

My fucking house is over-run with cockroaches tonight. I'm not a fan of creepy crawlies and I get that weird shuddering thing going on when I see one. Should one get too close, the shuddering progresses to a jumping, flapping and frantic rubbing of the hair. It's not the most masculine manoeuvre, I'll grant you that.

They seem to be massing in the bathroom but their plan is literally going tits up because they keep landing on their backs. Why has this species (that is supposedly the most resilient on Earth) not figured out a way to get up off its back?

Suits me, the ugly bastards.

The great Arse About Fez fortune telling experiment

I've mentioned before that reading the coffee grinds is a traditional Turkish way of telling someone's fortune; well I had a thought ...how about I put up pictures of my coffee grinds and invite the internet to tell me my fortune? Then, I'll compare the notes and see if there are any similarities. By the end of this experiment, we should know without doubt whether or not fortune telling is real or shit.

So here's the deal. Below are a series of shots of my coffee cup today. Have a look and then please email your reading to billfredo@gmail.com (please don't post your reading as a comment or you'll fuck everything up and give others ideas). Once I get a serious quantity back, I'll share my notes.

....then all we have to do is to wait to see whether it all comes true.

BTW click on the pictures for a bigger version.

I am but a child at heart...

...and that's why things like this make me laugh when the kids are doing a listening exercise.

Is it just me...

...or does this peach have a frenulum?

Things I'd never done before moving to Turkey #4

Tried to coax a dog down from the roof of a car.

The Native is Restless

I feel the time has come for me to pack my satchel and move onto greater things. But what can be greater than this, you might ask? Well that's entirely up to you.

I'm looking for your help. In an ideal world, I'd be working at a university, sharing my culture and language with individuals who don't show you the contents of their hands every time they sneeze.

Here's the killer though, and I hope you'll support me in this... I want some time next year. I want some time to write. I have a feeling deep down in my toilet area that there's a book or a film in me. I want a chance to prove that. For this reason, I'm looking for fewer hours than the 31 I'm doing now (like dogs, 1 teaching hour = 7 actual hours).

Please think hard about who you know and tell them that you know this incredibly talented, slightly odd, Anglo-Turko, gentleman teacher. Don't get too hung up on the university thing, I'm open to any offers. Perhaps it's not teaching. Perhaps a traveling lecturer, promoting (or warning about) Englishness/Turkishness to Caribbean nations. Translator (from English into shit Turkish? or shitter French? ...or even shitter German?). Maybe a kitten/puppy sitter. Beauty contest judge. Private Dancer (a dancer for money, any old music will do).



Come fly me!

Nilüfer Hasırcı 1924-2010

Early on Monday morning, my father called with the news that my grandmother had passed away. Though she'd been bedridden for a few years now, somehow you can't prepare yourself for that call.

Her character was a rare cocktail. So kind and gentle, she was loved by all who knew her. Never one for idle gossip or bad-mouthing. Yet confront her and she had the tongue of a brick layer. This colourful language is how you've come to know her as 'rude nan'.But no matter how angry, her overwhelming positive attitude meant she was never far from bursting into contagious laughter.

As every grandparent gives a pet name to their grandchild, she would call me 'grandma's little lamb, peanut or Turkish delight" but I'd hear her say that to my brother too. There was, however, one pet name that was exclusively mine: "tasak yanak" or "bollock cheeks".

Though hard to imagine when I remember her lying so frail in her bed, this woman had seen hardship that required the strength of a lion to overcome. The wife of a senior minister in the ruling party during one of Turkey's most turbulent political eras, she had experienced wealth and privileges. To a coup that saw the Prime Minister executed and my grandfather imprisoned, she was left with nothing but 4 children to raise single-handed.



How will I remember her? I'll remember her cooking through the day to host vast family dinners on the balcony. I'll remember her laugh. I'll remember watching her from the back window of the taxi as she poured water from the balcony to wish us a safe journey back to the UK. I'll remember her wanting to kiss my neck and calling it 'kaymak' and then laughing when I'd say 'buyurun'. I'll remember how she would shed a tear at the utterance of my granddad's name years after his death. But more than anything, I'll remember her positivity, sense of humour and enormous heart.



This is the hardest post I've ever had to write. It has to be perfect, but it's an impossible task.

She was the reason I came to Turkey. I wanted to get to know my remaining grandparent while I had the chance. I am happy to know that I did what I set out to do. I sat with her for hours on the balcony. We talked. We watched the ships. She knew I loved her. And I said my goodbye.

Babaannecigim, seni cok seviyorum. Ozlecem ben seni. Gelecem birazdan ama simdilik rahat uyu hayatim.

A book that wouldn't be so popular in the UK

I'm not sure we'd see this book in an English school library.

Shake the Room

I had a dream last night. I could probably describe it as a nightmare. I don't remember much about it other than I was in an earthquake.

Well, according to reports, we've had a series of earthquakes here tonight. The weird thing is, I never actually feel them. Not that I especially want to. But the ones tonight seem to have been quite strong.

Take a look at the Bogazici University website which lists all the current seismic activity in Turkey.

I hope that'll be all the activity we see tonight.

You know you're in Turkey when...

...you see benches like this.



Judging by the nut shells decorating the pavement, I'm guessing it was a man and a woman sitting side by side (but not too close). He had more of an appetite. They were leaning forward (otherwise the shells would be to the side of the bench). Perhaps it was rather heavy discussion about their relationship. Perhaps it was a clandestine meeting to discuss how she's going to introduce him to her father.

Maybe it was a father and his daughter. She's telling him of her new love and he's eating his hand off with stress. The sunflower seeds just aren't enough to distract him from the fact that his little girl is growing so fast. Soon she's going to be a woman and have a family of her own. This little girl who used to cry in his arms will now embrace another.

Or maybe it was a pisshead and his dog.

I'm afraid the secret is hidden deep in that pile of shells. I just hope they're both happy wherever they are (and that the salt didn't give them an ulcer).

Famous Turks Special - Coşkun Göğen and Nuri Alço

What do the initials T.C. mean to you? As a child of the 80s, perhaps 'Topcat' for me. If you're Turkish, perhaps it's Türk Cumhuriyeti (The Turkish Republic). Well, that's what I thought but apparently, for a lot of Turks, another name springs to mind.



I only heard about this man the other night while sitting with friends, exploring the depths of YouTube. As they virtually flicked through the highlights of the golden age of Turkey's silver screen, I noticed a definite leaning towards videos depicting acts of sexual aggression. I began to fear for my own safety as my friends laughed manically at the brutal defloration of girl after girl. What was it? Why were they laughing?

I still don't know but I was introduced to the existence of this man, Coşkun Göğen. More commonly known as 'Tecavüzcü Coşkun' ('Coşkun the Rapist'), or 'T.C.' for short, this now 'comedic' character appears in many hundreds of classic Turkish movies.



"If you see him in a movie, you know he's the rapist" my girlfriend informed me. Right but why must there always be a rapist? And what if he wants a different role? What if he wants to move into childrens' theatre? There's no hope and, anyway, I think he's quite happy being typecast.

Born in Antalya in 1946 he was pretty much unknown until the 1972 film Asi Gençler where he forcibly took his first cherry and never looked back (well, just a few times to see whether anyone was coming).

As sure as Frankie Howerd will, at some point, exclaim "ooooooo" in any of the Carry On classics he appears in, Coşkun is sure to fuck someone without their consent. Here are a few of the wonderful comedy highlights of his career:



The second name here is Nuri Alço. Often seen working in colaboration with T.C., Nuri has a slightly different spin on vaginal trespass.



Where Coşkun uses brut force-play, Nuri wines and dines the lucky lady first. Shortly after dinner, the love interest swoons into his arms. Why? Because he's poured her a full bodied glass of Chateau du Rohypnol.



Yes Nuri wants chemistry in a relationship - preferably stirred into whatever she's drinking. Sometimes he'll even invite Coşkun round for a game of 'poke her'.

Born in Eskisehir in 1951, perhaps his parents dreamed of a future in medicine. Their dreams came true when Nuri's pharmaceutical talents eventually made him Turkey's number one professional sexual predator.



Let's take a moment to enjoy the work of this charming yet heavy handed date-rapist:



So there you have it - the cinematographic sex-scene Turkish style. Now excuse me while I expand my back catalogue of the Turkish classics. Remember, as the T-Shirt says, it's not rape if you shout "SURPRISE!" first.

Famous Turks #4

Alec Issigonis



Date of birth: 18 November 1906
Died: 2 October 1988
Place of Birth: Izmir, Turkey (OK he was from a Greek community, but it still counts!)
Famous for: Inventing the mini!

A Turkish brand that would probably do rather well in the UK

However, those hoping for a Turkish take on Hooters will be disappointed to be served by our friend here in the tank-top.

Children are still saying the funniest things ...though I'm getting bored of marking exams now

More joy from the exam pages:

Q: Who are you going to go shopping with?
A: I'm going with Chuck Norris LOL! (LOL=HAHA)

Thank God he translated LOL for me. This student keeps asking whether he can write his compositions in 'Textese' eg LOL, B4, UR etc. I say no.

Q: What's wrong with you?
A: My parents.

How do I mark that? He's either completely misunderstood or it's a very shrewd Larkin reference.

Q: What's wrong with you?
A: Some people polluted the sea.

Right you are. Hope you feel better soon.

Children say the funniest things

I've just been marking the 6th grade exams. One section was an open dialogue giving the students a chance to write anything sensible in response to a question. Here's a response that made me put down my marking pen and say a few words of thanks to God. Please remember, this is a 10 year old Turkish student.

Question 1
Q: Where are you going this weekend?
A: I'm going to the supermarket.

Nice answer.

Question 2
Q: What's wrong with you?
A: I have a problem with my bowel.

Sorry, what? If I could give her more than 100%, I would. That answer alone should automatically grant her a Cambridge scholarship.

Random Turkish Fact #13

Nobody knows how old they are.

If you ask someone their age in Turkey, you'll rarely get an answer that doesn't require further explanation. The question "how old are you?" will provoke one or all of the following responses:

1. "I was born in 1960" - leaving you to do the maths.
2. "I've finished 40 and entering 41" - ...so how old are you?
3. "I was born on 5 November but registered on the 5 December" - Sorry, what?

Because of this confusion, Turks speak in birth years - "he's a '73 boy". Though, this still wont indicate the exact age as it doesn't indicate birth month.

I was just sitting at lunch with children who were born in 2000 (yes, I gagged a little too) and they were trying to work out how old they were. 2010 minus 2000 and still sitting there counting on my fingers.

FYI Turkish friends, in the UK we talk about age in terms of completed years. eg a child is considered 1 after it completes its first year on Earth; it's not born aged 1. I, for example, am coming to the end of my 35th year. But, I still say I'm 34 because that's the number of years I've lived. Mind you, can I say I've really lived all those years? Regrets? I think that's for life to decide in time. But I've always smiled from the heart and that's what really counts. I remember my first teacher back in Tolworth Infants................

Wind in the Willies

I'm teaching Wind in the Willows to the 4th grade at the moment. I have to give the same lesson to each class and it can get a little tiresome listening to the same audio over and over again.

I had to do a double take when this came along though. Certainly brightened my day. What on earth does Rat think he's doing?

It's all Greek to me #1 - The Alphabet

One of the greatest things about the Turkish language (despite being able to insult a person's entire heritage in only a few syllables), is the fact it's completely phonetic. So, once you've learned the separate sounds of the alphabet, (theoretically) you can read and write without any problem (though you may not know what you're reading or writing).

To get you started, here's the Turkish alphabet in full:



So once you've learned that, you can begin to funk it up a little:



You'll notice some of the letters are missing from the English alphabet. But don't worry, Turks make up for them with clever combinations of other letters. For example, why have an 'x' when you can put 'ks' together. So 'taxi' becomes 'taksi'. Makes sense no?

And vice versa, they simplify some of our 'clever' combinations and create a whole new letter. So 'sh' becomes 'ş' and 'ch' becomes 'ç'. Brilliant.

The Turkish alphabet also loses some of the Anglo-Alphabet stupidity. The 'ph' absurdity is, quite rightly, simplified to an 'f' - so 'photograph' becomes the far more sensible 'fotoğraf' (though they daft it up again by using the soft 'g').

This carefully crafted alphabet is still very young. The 29 Latin characters replaced the old Ottoman script on 1 November 1928. In one day, Ataturk implemented his reform on the language of a nation. Fuck that for a game of soldiers. Change is never easy. Ever seen the confused, desperate look on peoples' faces when they move the eggs to a different aisle in the supermarket? Now imagine trying to get the nation write Chinese.

Like the French, The Turks have a government body dedicated to protecting the language. Though not quite as fiercely as the French, who do love to change incoming words to make them their own (do you know the French word for 'walky-talky'? It's 'talky-walky'. Genius).

So what happens to a fast food chain like Wimpy when it comes to Turkey?



You see there are some sounds that the Turks just can't pronounce.

'Th' for example, is hardened to a 'd' or 't'.

'V' and 'w's are, pretty much, exchanged.

So you get something like "I tink dis vedder is lowely".

Conversely, there are many Turkish sounds that Westerners can't handle. Basically any of their letters with two dots or a hat is going to cause us trouble. 'ö' and 'ü' are bad news. The 'ğ' is also going to need practice. This is the soft or 'yumuşak g' that the guys in the second song got so excited about. Basically, it's job is to lengthen the vowel before it.

Anyway, why am I harping on about all this when I still can't speak the lingo myself? Well it started when I was out driving the other day and I saw a sign. As I said before, Turkish is phonetic. It is also very new and has borrowed armfuls of vocabulary from other languages. This combination allows for some moments of genius that, to be honest, tickle me.

OK, time for a little quiz. I'm going to give you some Turkish words and you have to guess the English:



Yes, it's a, phonetically perfect, Music-hall.



Of course, it's the canteen.



Come on, the clue's in the picture. It's a ferry boat.



Did you know there was a Turkish Wikipedia?

And there you have it, the Turkish ABC. Not as bonkers as the Welsh: