Journey to Istanbul

“Is Turkey a part of Europe or the Middle East?” I asked my fellow passengers as we waited for the plane to Istanbul. Two of them, Turks who graduated from Germany with degrees in Engineering, suggested that Turkey is a part of the West because Turkey needs her wealthy European neighbors for economic exports. They seemed to share the same view of Chris Pattern, then the European Union Commissioner for External Relations, who advocated that Turkey can solve the population problems in Western Europe through mass immigration.

Our flight got new passengers after the stopover in Bangkok. Sitting next to me were two ladies wearing black hijab. One of them told me that she lived in Trabzon, a major city on Black Sea Coast. She was going to return home after finishing her studies as an exchange student in Malaysia. She expressed her disagreement over the proposal for Turkey to join European Union. She said, “ The West and Turkey have different civilizations. Most of our lands are in Asia. But the most important thing is that they are Christians, we are Muslims. There is no way for us to integrate.”

After thirteen hours of journey, the flight finally arrived at Ataturk International Airport, named after Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the first President of the Turkish Republic after the first World War. The new terminal of the airport was gorgeous.

I booked a seat in a new inner-city coach, and, while waiting for its arrival, I raised these questions to myself:

“What kind of people I would meet?”

“What type of dress do most women wear?”

“Will the involvement of Ankara in Brussels be a sensitive topic for religious people? Is it possible to talk about the separation of mosque and state? Finally, will I be accused of insulting Turkishness if I talk about the Armenian massacre?”

On the road to the city center, I smelled dusty air as lots of old buildings in Baroque style were being torn down and replaced by new skyscrapers. In a city envisioning to be a global financial center, the skyscrapers are meant to attract foreign corporations to set up offices, even their Central Asia headquarters. If Istanbul was characteristically reflecting the development of the whole Turkey, it would be right to claim that the country was intending to open to the world through shifting to financial industry, recruiting talents from the West and encouraging its Diaspora to make investments in its motherland.

Yet, with a large population still living in countryside, will it become “the Turkish Shanghai” - where the rich and the expatriates from Western Europe create lively social lives and are willing to pay 100 U.S. dollars for tickets of violinist Itzhak Perlman while workers from Southern and Eastern Part of the country get low-paid jobs and are unable to meet ends meet? Time will tell. Read More »

Krakow: From Communist Chic to Copernicus

The fifth most visited city in Europe is the dragon city, otherwise known as beautiful Krakow.

Its name dates back to a legend of a terrible dragon, defeated when a simple shoemaker named Krak ingeniously fed it a sulfur-filled sheep. Krak’s next success was to marry the ruler’s daughter and become Prince Krak. Modestly, he re-named the surrounding area after himself (the “ow” tacked on at the end means “village”).

In the morning, I woke up to the sound of horse-hooves on cobblestones, folk music, and the clinking of coffee cups. My renaissance windows overlooked Rynek Glowny, Krakow’s main square. Last night, I attended my friend Natalia’s 30th birthday party. Three months ago, a brown, communist-style envelope had landed on my doorstep. The invitation announced an “official and obligatory celebration” - a communist chic birthday - at Klub Feniks in Krakow. Socialist 1980’s outfits were requested. If you volunteered to stay longer, you would receive a special mention that may lead to promotion.

The décor at the club had been appropriately red, including red leather-padded walls that looked like something out of an interrogation suite. Guests were served stake tartar, complete with raw egg; others ate the polish specialty of herring in onions and heavy cream. The main course made me disavow all preconceptions about eastern bloc stews: they are delicious, not to mention the various types of pirogies that follow.

Afterward, men danced in army outfits, while women took the dancefloor in puffy skirts with shoulder-padded shirts, all under a disco ball, accompanied by Wham! and old Madonna songs. The different varieties of flavoured vodka came with ration tickets.

Feeling a bit dragon after the celebration (drank too much, those ration tickets were not enough), I strolled down to the big square. Read More »

Celeb-Watching, Cultured Living, and More - in D.C.

Having spent our glorious university years in Washington D.C., my friends and I recently decided to reconvene in the U.S. capital for a walk down memory lane.

We met at the newest Kimpton Hotel: the thirty-two million dollar, recently renovated Hotel Palomar which is modeled after the original in San Francisco.

This place is a home-away-from-home to visiting celebrities such as Mötley Crüe and blast-from-our-past diva Chaka Khan – who, we’re told, had gotten an elevator locked down just for her and her huge entourage.

The hotel is unique in many ways; the waiters here undergo rigorous training with a ballet company, a terrific concept to ensure both regular guests and celebrities are served with grace. What’s more, the boutique property’s décor, inspired by the modern elegance of 1930’s French Moderne designers, provides its visitors with a sophisticated, artful sanctuary. The place is conveniently located just off D.C.’s colorful Dupont Circle and is therefore a mere hop, skip and a jump from Georgetown’s quaint shops, restaurants, and million dollar mansions, and only a short cab drive away from the seats of power on Capitol Hill. We were set to have a good time.

We visited one of the newest and most expensive memorials in the nation, the Franklin Delano Roosevelt memorial, unveiled in May 1997. In our collective opinion, it’s the most beautiful as well. Commemorating the 32nd President, the memorial sits alongside the Potomac River, with statues, waterfalls, shade trees, quiet alcoves and reflection pools, each one symbolizing one of his four terms as President. As we walked along the stretch of grass called the mall, I reminisced about my first visit to the site during my “Explorers, Warriors, and Statesmen” class at university.

Off we went to the nearby Lincoln Memorial, located on the far bank of the Tidal Basin where many spend their late-March and April days walking on the promenade, admiring the momentous cherry blossoms. My friend Dana, incidentally, insists that a late night visit is the ideal time to walk under the enormous stone President. We also visited the Titanic Memorial, built in 1931 and located on Maine Avenue waterfront in Southwest Washington. Despite its tragic aura, this place always educes a bit of a giggle nowadays; Read More »

Holidays in the Carpathians: Bukovel

It seems that everyone with wheels in Kyiv went up the Carpathian mountains to celebrate the New Year. Sitting by the fireplace in a log cabin at the ski resort this season would have been something, but I didn’t not get there as planned. To be honest, it was a blessing to miss the frantic traffic and struggle to find a decent place to sleep.

After all, the good places are booked up there a year in advance.

illustration1byolechko

As a clever friend of mine recommended, it’s better to go up to the Carpathians a few weeks before the holidays, or else after the Orthodox Christmas (which is on the 7th of January, for all of those unfamiliar with the Julian calendar). So, I adjusted my plans.

Christmas time here offers the best entertainment for culture lovers, because the way the locals celebrate it has been preserved in its full glory: costumes, caroling, lavish food and all.

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The best way to get to the Carpathians from the capital is by car (it’s roughly a 7 hour drive to Yaremche). If you arrive to Yaremche by train (it would take a transfer or two to get there from Kyiv, as the railway system is still pretty inconvenient), you can hop on a cab for about 150 hrv to Bukovel.

This is actually reasonable, considering Yaremche is 40 min away. Obviously, putting so much effort into getting there means that this should definitely not be a weekend kind of trip. Better to stretch it out for 5 days or so, if you can. Read More »

British Airways - Baggage Atrocities

One World, Many Bags Lost - Should be the new British Airways tagline, as far as I’m concerned.

Every year, 10% of bags on average get lost or delayed by the airlines. BA seemed to have a good track record with dealing with lost bags, but this time was different:

I was one of the thousands of passengers who was caught up in the fog drama.

Fog drama? Oh yeah, that happens in Britain every year, and lost bags are nothing new. But, with new security measures it’s another world altogether.

It seems that the ‘one world’ airline seems keen to leave its passengers with ‘one change’ of clothing - and on a ski trip too.

I organised a 6.00 AM flight in order to get to the slopes of Gstaad at 9.00 AM, to fit in a day’s skiing. Unexpectedly, I ran into some friends who were on the same flight but headed to a different ski resort. We checked in together. The check-in desk was in chaos due to planes not taking off (insufficiently sophisticated technology battling the fog).

The man behind the desk was over-worked and exhausted, and mislabelled my bags for my friend’s bags. Luckily, I caught his mistake but was told it would take an hour to re-label the bags, so I would miss the flight (and the connecting mountain bus in Geneva). But, there was space on the next one arriving 4 hours later that would “definitely” have my bags on it.

Alas, in Geneva I was not reunited with my bags. The Swiss told me that my bags were scheduled to be on the next flight over and would be delivered to my address in the mountains that night.

“Thank god,” I thought. That night, I had a black-tie dinner in Gstaad. Gstaad is one of the most elegant ski resorts in the world and the competition to out-glam everyone is fierce.

After all, this is one of the world’s most glamorous places to spend your New Year’s. Listed as one of the worlds most expensive ski resorts, it’s full of dethroned royals, ex-rosey students, billionaire gangsters and the mega rich.

Never in one small town have I seen as many five-star hotels to choose from. I must point out that only one of them was full of stars, however. The Palace Hotel, where competition is takes on a whole new meaning - malice in the palace was in the cards. Read More »

Living Las Vegas

Las Vegas only makes an impression if you don’t look past the illusion. Peek beyond the veil that the corporations have cast and its nothing more than a series of asphalt lanes and bus routes. For a tourist it bears the promise of endless pleasure, salivating strippers, heaving hedonism.

For a resident, on the other hand, Las Vegas is the fat black guy with dreads who spends his day time in the bookstore discussing politics (with a guy carrying a briefcase too big for his body) and at night moves to the 24 hour café; playing chess against the bespectacled white guy called “The Tutor” who makes his living hanging out in the university library, getting hired by students to do their homework.

The real Las Vegas is the stripper named “Ana” who came from Texas three years ago because her parents are dead and she is putting her sister through college.

Read More »

Resisting Expectations: An American in Accra

I can’t count the number of times I was asked the question, usually from locals whom I had met only moments earlier: “So, is it what you expected? Is Africa what you thought it would be like?”

Despite the (ironic) expectations that also come with such a question, I almost always disappointed my questioners with the boring truth—when I set off for Africa this past June, I really didn’t have any expectations. Nope, none at all.

I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true! As I shoved in my last few pairs of underwear and zipped up my bags for Accra, Ghana—my first trip to Africa—I was more concerned whether or not I would have internet access to update my blog than whether or not I would have cold or hot water, whether or not I would catch malaria like some of my friends had, or whether the poverty would be too much for me to handle. Read More »

Megeve – Skiing and Guided Ski Tours In The Heart Of The French Alps

    How to get to Megeve… But don’t tell anyone!

Megeve is well known by few and is a jealously guarded secret among those that frequent its ski slopes; Michelin Guide rated restaurants, high-end shopping stores, Casino and quaint narrow cobbled streets. The village is dominated the traditional church belfry, by a square all in a pedestrian friendly atmosphere. Horse drawn sleighs carry tourists all over during the peak periods adding a festive and memorable experience for young and old. Read More »

The Perfect Sunset Spot – In a Region That Doesn’t Even Make New Brunswick’s Map

“If I don’t pull over, I’m going to end up in the ditch , ” I thought to myself. The sunset in the distance was so captivating that focusing on the road was difficult. Being on a budget, I couldn’t afford a luxurious day at the spa. Finances called for a more practical way to unwind. With no particular destination in mind, I set off. A sunset drive ought to take away the mental fog. Read More »

Dukie on the Defense

The major press outlets often refer to Durham as a “sleepy” little Southern town. It’s funny that in my four years of living here, I’ve never once considered Durham as anything other than alive. Cross Duke University with the gang violence beyond the pristine university walls, add a nationally recognized minor league baseball team and one of the country’s most famous historic black universities, North Carolina Central University, add a pinch of tobacco flavor and a drop of summer sweat, and stir the mixture until your eyes roll back. Durham has been anything but sleepy even before the Duke Lacrosse gang rape scandal. Read More »