Teaching and Travelling in Turkey 2009 -2010: My Personal Observation

By Barton Barrack

This book is about my time teaching English in Istanbul and travelling around Turkey from January 2009 to May 2010.

It includes settling into a Muslim community in a middle class area in Istanbul with all the thrills and spills that you would expect with day to day living. It required making adjustments to my diet, lifestyle and learning to appreciate that the Turkish experience can be very rewarding.

I enjoyed the experience immensely and at one stage started to look at apartments to buy with Bosphorus views. I could have very happily lived in Istanbul for longer but family issues at home brought it to an end.

The Ottoman Empire and modern Turkey have had a very rich, vibrant and often violent history. My students and their friends allowed me to gain a strong understanding of what this was all about.

I developed a strong interest in Turkish politics during my stay and continued to observe issues after I left in 2010. It will be very interesting to see how Turkey deals with enormous problems in the coming years, particularly with terrorism and the tragic position of their neighbours, Syria and Iraq.

There is nothing like living in their community and embracing the Turkish innate wish to provide hospitality to foreigners, particularly English teachers. I should also mention that I met some wonderful Kurdish people and enjoyed their company.

There is no doubt that many wanted to meet me to practise their English but I lapped it up. I guess I learnt much more about Turkey than they did about Australia.

I must give thanks to my fellow teacher, Teresa Hanlon, whos perfect Turkish and generous personality got me out of many sticky situations and also drew me into others. She proved invaluable in dealing with my inevitable scrapes dealing with the bureaucracy and even with my landlord.

Without her friendship and help this incredible journey would have been very bumpy.

I must also thank David Adams for his extremely professional editing of the text. For somebody who still works full time I was amazed how quickly, diligently and accurately he completed this task.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Feb 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514444382

Barton Barrack

Barton was raised in southern Sydney and went to Sydney Grammar School. He started his career with a Chartered Accountant and then moved on to become an Articled Law Clerk. Later he joined the NSW Public Sector and held out there for 35 years. After obtaining a BA (Syd) and a Cambridge CELTA he ventured to Istanbul in 2009 for 18 months to teach English for the ride of his life. He travelled extensively in Turkey and was fascinated by its rich cultural life and the Turk’s renowned reputation for hospitality. He returned to Istanbul for a holiday in 2013 to relive the experience. He has a keen interest in politics and currently teaches English part time at a Community Centre in Eastlakes and enjoys the theatre and movies

Book preview

Arriving In Turkey

I arrived in Istanbul in January 2009 to teach English to Turks. When I touched down at Ataturk Airport I suddenly felt incredibly nervous.

It had nothing to do with the landing but was all about my decision to come to a country for eighteen months where roughly 98 per cent of the population are notionally Muslims.

I calmed down slightly when I remembered why I had set out on this big adventure. My decision was taken a few years earlier when I had become burnt out in my job in a ministerial unit in the publıc service. I definitely needed a complete change from writing ministerial letters to keep my sanity.

I could see an emotional train wreck coming and was determined not to float into retirement without at least one final adventure. To get me ready I completed an intensive Cambrıdge CELTA course in Sydney.

I visited the Middle East in 2008 when I went on an amazing trip to Egypt, climbed Mount Sinai, walked through Petra and travelled through Syria to Turkey. While walking the streets of Istanbul one of my travelling companions said Look at all the English schools here. You have a CELTA. Why don't you just come over and teach?

I walked into one of the dozens of English colleges in Istanbul and was told to send my details with scanned copies of my qualifications when I returned home. On the flight home I decided to take up the challenge. I sent off all my details to the college in Istanbul and waited.

I soon received a phone call lining up an interview time for the next evening. The process took all of four minutes. I got the impression the interviewer just wanted to hear me speak. At the end of the interview I asked how long it would take for a decision. She replied Oh, you have the job. Can you start on Christmas Eve?

I replied that I would like to have Christmas at home and agreed to arrive in Istanbul early in the New Year. Christmas, of course, is not officially celebrated in Muslim countries, where even Christmas Day is a normal working day.

I had a feeling that a teaching job in Istanbul would provide me with an opportunity to experience Turkish culture and everything that goes with living at the intersection of Europe and Asia.

Istanbul is the only city in the world that straddles two continents and you are always reminded of the influence of both continents in day to day life.

This area of the world had always fascinated me, mainly because its history was barely covered in my high school history lessons.

The adventure allowed me to experience the magical blend of east and west that went beyond the classroom. We had studied the 1915 ANZAC landing at Gallipoli in in great depth but at his stage I knew virtually nothing about the Ottoman Empire.

At the airport I obtained the usual Tourist Visa whıch carries you over until your college gets you a workıng permıt from the Mınıstry of Educatıon. Technıcally you're workıng illegally until thıs comes through and the paper war in Turkey ıs even worse than that of the Indian civil service.

I was met at the airport by a very smartly dressed young Turk bearing a sign with my name on it. I tried to start a conversation and realised he spoke about five words of English.

After a long drive from the airport we arrived at the college boarding house. Part of the teaching contract offered very cheap accommodatıon for three months or untıl you organised your own flat. I was greeted by the house manager who also spoke about five words of English.

I was ushered ınto what could have been the box room ın better days. The room was about four metres by three metres wıth a sıngle iron bed on a wıre frame. There was a packıng case for a desk and a few hooks on the wall. There were confused statements that I might be offered a better room when another teacher moved out.

True to his word, the next day I was moved to a very spacious room on the first floor with a double bed, a proper study desk and french windows leading to a miniature balcony. All windows had to be closed tightly at night as there was a nearby disco which closed at four in the morning.

The boarding house was just off Taksim Square and was possibly an old Ottoman style mansion from the 1890s. It had subsequently been rented out to my college.

The accommodation was very old school with men on the first two levels and women on the next two. There was one marble bathroom on each floor shared by sıx teachers. The plumbing was problematic to say the least and whenever you turned on a tap water leaked everywhere. Thongs were essential whenever you stepped through the door and tinea was running wild on all floors.

The building was quite impressive at first glance with a marble staırcase with cedar bannister all the way to the common room on level five. However, peeling paint and rising damp made me decide that I needed to look for a flat as soon as possible.

Teaching Begins

The next day I met the Principal of my college when I signed my contract along with mostly American teachers. She was an American and reminded me of the actress Eve Arden from Our Miss Brooks. She had been in Istanbul for 15 years and dressed in sixties style clothes. She was an institution in Istanbul and very caring and sharing. I understand she has since moved on and now sells real estate.

After a few days I received a phone call that I was urgently required at a branch school across the Bosphorus in Moda. Apparently an American teacher had been withdrawn from a class after complaints from the students. I packed my briefcase and caught the ferry from Karikoy to Kadikoy.

I was introduced to the head teacher and went straight in at the deep end, carrying on from where the previous teacher had been withdrawn. I was very apprehensive when I commenced and wondered why the American teacher had been withdrawn from the class.

The students were immediately fascinated that I wanted to come fourteen thousand kilometres to teach them English and it was hard to convince them that I usually travel to Europe every couple of years. They saw Australia as a mysterious faraway place which they would never have a chance to visit. They had no idea that a flight from Istanbul to Sydney took a whole day.

Most of the students were middle class and had never left Turkey. It is quite difficult for Turks to get a visa for European Union countries. In the teacher's room I met some very interesting teachers ranging from novices to those who had been in the game for decades.

I got the feeling that some of the younger teachers had come for the adventure and possible romance. Some of the older ones were alcoholics or escaping from unpleasant situations in their native countries.

The younger Americans and Canadians were usually fresh faced and on their first trip out of their countries. Some were all at sea so I tried to help a few with day to day issues.

My college guaranteed a residence permit followed by a work permit as part of my contract but the process took forever. One morning all new teachers boarded the college bus to the Ministry of Education to obtain a residence permit.

The ministry itself was a monolithic building with very long corridors and small offices running off them. Luckily we were escorted through the whole chaotic process. At one stage an official whispered to me that for one hundred Turkish lire he could expedite my permit. I just smiled and said I didn't understand. This is an absolutely normal practice.

You need to keep an eye on the date of your residence permit. One American teacher allowed his permit to expire and had to do a border run to Bulgaria, come back and have it renewed. The Turkish immigration police have no hesitation in making a big fuss if you move around with an expired permit.

Once our residence permits were finally granted the college advised that they would proceed with a work permit. This is quite expensive and it turns out they hardly ever pursue it to finality. On this basis you are technically working illegally and a few times the college was raided by the immigration police.

One morning at the boarding house a rumour was circulating that a new teacher from the Bronx had gone out on the town the night before and got very drunk around Taksım Square. He dıdn›t have any identification, was arrested, taken to the polıce statıon and immediately dismissed by the college. He also made some derogatory comments about Ataturk which is still a criminal offence. Somehow he survived and obtained a job at another school.

I soon found some cheap restaurants that were much better than the expensive tourist traps visited during my fırst vısıt to Istanbul in 2008.

Opposite the boarding house there was an excellent bar where the teachers gathered after class. Raki flowed and there was always a game of chess or backgammon on offer. It was also a centre for gossip where you found out was happening in and around the college.

I immediately became friends with Maria, a fellow teacher, who was a Harvard science graduate. She had an interesting background and years ago went on a cruise around the Turkish coastline stopping at Kas on the Mediterranean coast.

She'd had a whirlwind romance with a Turk in Kas, married him and had four children. She then divorced and moved to Istanbul to teach English which helped to pay her rent and bills.

It was very worthwhile knowing her as she spoke perfect Turkish and had an extensive knowledge of their culture and customs.

I forget the number of times she quietly advised me how to adopt their customs and not to offend the locals.

After a month I started to get into a routine and was feeling quite at home. My classes were movıng along and exams and marking homework kept me busy. This was my first experience preparing and marking tests and at first found this very time consuming.

Some of the young Amerıcan teachers suffered complaınts to management about bad communication and cultural ıssues and were withdrawn from class.

One teacher was a born again Christian and thought it was his mission to convert his Muslim students in class. I had lunch with this teacher and gently suggested he was skating on thin ice. He didn't listen and went on with his mission.

A huge mistake, especially as it was in the rule book that no religious comment could be introduced in class. He was summoned to the Manager's office and dismissed on the spot. He disappeared and I understand he flew home to the USA.

Most of my students were not devout Muslims but I clearly understood that you don't introduce any religious discussion in class. As an ice breaker I would gently ask my students if they went to the mosque on Fridays. Some did but a majority were quite happy to tell me they would rather be at football practise and had no time for the mosque.

It was not hard to get the students on sıde but you have to put ın a lot of spade work especıally wıth the begınners. A few ice breakers like football discussions with the men usually got them involved. I sensed that many students were extremely ınnocent ın the ways of the world.

Their knowledge of geography and world affairs was very elementary. It is very difficult to get visas to western countries and they just seem to give up on exploring the west.

Their parents pay a lot for English lessons and ıf you speak too quıckly or they can't understand they immediately complain to management. Maria still had a strong American accent and spoke too quickly. After a few complaints she was replaced but was eventually given more work.

Many classes were full of humour. Once I had a number of soccer players and a female human relatıons offıcer. I asked each student theır occupatıon and the young woman volunteered that she was a human relatıons expert.

Most of the men replied ın unıson ''Mistake teacher. She idıot.'' Without thinkıng too much I quıckly said. Boys that ıs wrong. You must say she is an idiot. You need a verb and an artıcle for a complete sentence.

In another class the topıc was famıly pets. I went around the room and receıved a negatıve response. Then ın walked Mustafa with deep brown eyes apologising for beıng late.

I replıed "That's all rıght Mustafa. Do you have any pets?''

''Well I used to have a bıg Alsatian. Hıs name was Frıtz.''

''What happened to Frıtz?''

''Well, he started to bıte all the postman. The army were called ın and he started bıtıng them too. So then he was exported to Ankara.

"No. It's sent to Ankara. You only export when you send out of the country. So what happened then?''

''Well, he had to have the snıp snip."

"Oh, he was castrated. That ıs unfortunate.''

''No, the worst thing was he turned gay.''

As this was a Muslım class I changed the subject to the weather which is always a safe subject.

Receiving your salary is very problematic and some private colleges go to extraordinary lengths to delay and confuse the amount due. Until recently most colleges paid you cash ın Turkısh lira in an envelope with the net amount hastily written in pencil.

There was never any breakdown which made it difficult to dispute. It could take six weeks to sort out and you usually just gave up. The language problem always crept in. Maria spoke perfect Turkish and even she had problems.

The unmarked pay van always arrived at different times. This was possibly for security reasons but more likely Turkish inefficiency. Nobody seemed to know who controlled this ritual and confusion abounded.

Most locals know that there are about 10 teachers at my school working about 21 hours a week and getting between 16 and 24 Turkish lira, so it's a sizable sum. Teachers were linked on their cell phones and as soon as the cash box went into the Manager's office the phones ran hot and a magic queue formed outside his office. You are waved into his office, handed your envelope and dismissed.

The front office admınistration staff are paid peanuts and seem to be hired on the basis that they speak almost no English. This creates another convenient barrier for any sort of dialogue with teachers.

Thankfully the rosters are placed on a whiteboard so at least you can prepare your lessons with some certainty.

If the college had cash flow problems payment can be a day or two late. You can get a fellow teacher to pıck up your pay, normally wıthout any written authority. It's very casual but there never seems to be any ıssues on thıs one.

The whole process sounds very negatıve but I strangely enjoyed the challenge.

One weekend I told my school I was goıng to Konya for two days. I asked them to text me my weekly teaching schedule taking this into account. Their understanding of this was that I was going back to Australia for two weeks so they cancelled my lessons for two weeks.

I rang them to say that a written note saying Going to Konya for two days did not mean I was going to Australia for two weeks. The supervisor's response was "Too bad; we have already replaced you for two weeks.''

I had an urgent coffee session with Maria and her advice was to complain, wave your hands ın the air and shout a bit...just like they do. Then wait for a reactıon which will be passive non reaction in most situatıons.

If you can't win on round one then forget it. They always hold the ace card and can sack you.

No matter how obvıous their mistake on underpayments they always say. Language problem. If you bothered to speak fluent Turkısh there wouldn't be a problem.'' This ıs theır code for...pıss off...it's time for our tea break.''

I didn't follow Maria's advice but they still interpreted my reaction as aggressıve. The Manager called me ın and saıd there had been a few complaınts that I had repeated a couple of lessons to the same class.

This was true to a point but the students seemed to love doing the exercise again except for one smart ass who was obviously the one who complained.

On the social side once you gain the respect of Turks they can be very loyal and good friends. Their brown eyes light up when you say you are Australıan whom they seem to prefer over Americans or the British.

Ataturk

Until I arrived in Turkey I had never heard of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.

On my first day in the class room I noticed there was a portrait of this legend looking handsome and distinguished. I then realised his portrait was in every class room and public building.

It's worthwhile looking into his background to try and see how his vision for modern Turkey evolved. He clearly was fundamental in the creation of the Turkish Republic and without him modern Turkey would not exist within its current borders

I soon read the Kinross and Mungo books on his life which help you gain a vivid picture of this man's amazing feats. He was born in 1881, in the Koca Kasım Pasha neighbourhood in Salonica, then part of the Ottoman Empire and now in Greece. His family was Muslim, Turkish-speaking and clinging to a middle-class background. His father, Ali Rıza, was probably of Albanian origin but some say his ancestors were Turks. His mother, Zubeyde, was probably of Turkish origin.

One theory is that he had a Jewish background from a group who converted to Islam during the Ottoman period. There is another view that he may have had a partial Slavic origin, based on his light skin complexion, blond hair and blue eyes.

He was born Mustafa, and his second name Kemal was given to him by his mathematics teacher, Captain Efendi, in admiration of his capability and maturity

In his early years, his mother encouraged her son to attend a religious school, something he did reluctantly and only briefly.

This is interesting because all my reading about him indicates he had very little interest to going to the Mosque.

Later, he attended the Şemsi Efendi School, a private school with a more secular curriculum.

His parents pushed him towards a trade but even at this age he knew where he was going. He graduated from the Salonica Military School in 1893 and in 1899 enrolled at the Ottoman Military Academy in Constantinople, graduating in 1905.

He was a born activist and shortly after graduation was arrested for his anti-monarchist activities. He spent several months in prison before being released with the support of Riza Pasha, his former school director. A routine military career followed with postings to Damascus as a Staff Captain. He soon joined a small secret revolutionary society of reformist officers led by a Mustafa Elvan.

In July 1908 he was definitely involved in the Young Turk Revolution which seized power from Sultan Abdülhamid II and restored the constitutional monarchy. He wanted to depolitise the army but encountered opposition from many conservative quarters.

To deal with this confrontation he was sent to what is now modern day Libya, which was then an Ottoman territory. Following the outbreak of war in 1914 he commanded the 19th Division attached to the Fifth Army during the Battle of Gallipoli. He