"“I have a funny problem with humor, I guess, because I don’t consider it fun.”
-Kara Walker, 1996
I think Nasreddin Hodja books in English, German, Italian, Spanish and other languages should not be sold to tourists in touristy places but only to people who have lived here for a year or more! One of the hardest things to communicate across cultures is humor. Humor is a complicated human response: We laugh at things that are both absurd and tragic.

Humor can be expressed in many ways. In America, Kara Walker had her own style of humor which she expressed through her artwork. Using silhouette images she portrayed folklore in the Deep South, raising identity and gender issues for African-American women in particular. Walker employed her sense of humor through violent imagery; she found a balance in the comic, as well as humor’s ethical limits and function in both culture and visual art.

You can go far in life if you have a good sense of humor and you can go even further if you are also a conversationalist. Look at Nasreddin Hodja!

Often tourists cannot appreciate the 13th century character Nasreddin Hodja stories because they do not understand Turkish culture. Hodja has his own logic; he always seems to be able to settle a matter amicably using wit, common sense and ridicule to expose the shortcomings of society, and even criticize the state and religious affairs. But the jokes are only funny if you understand the underlying cultural values that the character is gently pointing fun at.

Until you have lived with a mixture of nationalities, you do not realize how much of your own humor is based on a shared general knowledge, background and cultural perception. Have you ever been at a party or out for the evening with a group of different nationalities and observed how puns, comic throwaway lines etc. don’t seem to translate, as not everyone knows “the rules” of the joke teller’s particular nations’ humor. For example, a British person may say “here’s one I made earlier” -- a reference to a classic line from a UK children’s program. Other Brits in the room laugh, the Americans and Europeans look blank.

Nasreddin Hodja stories often illustrate a phrase in Turkish e.g., “Tanrı misafiri” -- a guest of God -- a beautiful phrase that means guests (whether invited or not) that are sent by God and should be treated with honor and hospitality. Even if this means the host is going to be inconvenienced.

One of the beauties of the stories of Nasreddin Hodja is that the hodja gently pokes fun at hypocrisy or double-standards. A tourist who won’t have learned this phrase and doesn’t understand this cultural value, just can’t understand the humor in the story: “A traveler knocks on the Hodja’s door in the middle of the night. He announces himself as being “God’s guest.” Hodja puts his coat on and takes the visitor down to the local mosque. ‘”Well,” he says, pointing to the mosque door, “if you are God’s guest, here is the place you should stay.’”

After you have been living here for a while you can really begin to appreciate these stories. How many foreign teachers get frustrated when they realize their students give the answer they think the teacher wants to hear, rather than what the students really thinks or believes?

Well, Hodja shares your frustration and acts out, revealing the frustrating behavior for his friends to see. On Friday he stood up in the mosque to deliver the weekly sermon. “Do you know what I am about to say?” he asked the congregation. “Of course not!” they replied. He got down from the pulpit and went home immediately saying, “Well, I won’t waste my breath on people who have no foresight.” Next Friday he starts his sermon with the same words. This time the congregation gave the opposite answer, “Of course we do.” Hodja got down from the pulpit and went home immediately saying, “Well, I won’t waste my breath if you already know.” The third week came around and Hodja started his sermon with the same question; this time the congregation was really stuck as to which answer he was wanting to the question so they said, “Some of us do, some of us don’t.” To which the Hodja gave the immortal reply, “Let those who do explain to those who don’t.”

If this doesn’t make you smile, you haven’t taught enough classes here!"

by Charlotte McPherson, "I have a problem with humor", Today`s Zaman, 12.03.2007

"Greek Cypriots have demolished a key section of the barrier dividing the island's capital city, Nicosia.
The Green Line has separated Cyprus's Greeks from the Turkish population since 1974, when Turkish troops occupied the north.

The work in Ledra Street began under cover of darkness and had not been publicised in advance.

But the Greek Cypriot authorities say Turkish troops must pull back before people can cross in either direction.

Ledra Street - a pedestrianised shopping area - would be the sixth crossing point on the divided island.

The move was welcomed by the Turkish Cypriot Prime Minister, Ferdi Sabit Soyer, as "a positive development".

The UN chief of mission, Michael Moller, also hailed it as "a positive contribution of great significance", the AFP news agency reported.

The street was cordoned off to allow heavy equipment and demolition crews to move into position.

A small crowd watched the action, applauding when work on tearing down the barrier began.

"This is a show of goodwill on our side to contribute positively to opening Ledra Street," government spokesman Christodoulos Pashardes told state television.


It used to be a bustling road in the heart of Nicosia's commercial district but for more than 40 years it has been blocked by a large wall and a viewing platform overlooking the demilitarised strip separating north from south.


In December a controversial bridge over the wall was removed

The structures have been replaced by plastic barricades.

The Turkish Cypriot breakaway state in the north is recognised only by Turkey.

In December the Turkish Cypriot authorities dismantled a controversial footbridge on Ledra Street, which was built in 2005. It had angered Greek Cypriots, who said it encroached into the UN buffer zone separating the two sides.

The Green Zone is policed by United Nations troops, amid barbed wire and dilapidated buildings with sand bags still sitting in the windows.

Cyprus was partitioned after a Turkish invasion in 1974, which came shortly after a Greek Cypriot coup backed by the military junta ruling Greece at the time.

Shortly before joining the European Union in 2004 the Greek Cypriots rejected a United Nations plan to reunify the island.

The BBC's Chloe Hadjimatheou says it will be a while before Ledra Street opens fully.


First the disused ordnance and derelict buildings will have to be made safe and then UN forces will have to establish a checkpoint to police the crossing".

from BBC News, 2007/03/09

the Romanian verb "a sicii" (read as "sıkıi"), which means to bother sb by repeating sth over and over, comes from the Turkish "sık" (often)

the Turkish "mezelik" (sth that can be served as a meze=appetizer) is used in Romanian as "mizilic"(read as "mizilik") to describe sth of a little importance

"kolye" (Tr)= "colier" (read as kolier) (Ro)= "necklace" in both languages

"hurma" (Tr)= "curmala" (read as kurmala in Ro)= "date" in both languages

"biber"/"kara biber" (Tr)= "piper" (Ro)= "pepper" in both languages

"çizme" (Tr)= "cizme" (Ro)= "boots" in both languages, also read the same

"rakı" (Tr)- "rachiu" (read as "rakiu" in Ro, also designating an alcholic drink)

"bardak" (Tr)- "bardaca" (read as "bardaka" in Ro), but whereas in Tr= glass, in Ro= mug

"yatak" (Tr)- "iatac" (Ro)- read the same, having the same meaning (dated in Romanian)
"kat" (Tr)- "cat" (Ro)- read the same, having the same meaning (dated in Romanian)

"meydan" (Tr)- "maidan" (Ro), but whereas "meydan"= "square" in Tr, in Ro it means an area located at the outskirts of a town

"mahalle" (Tr)- "mahala" (Ro), but whereas in Tr=neighborhood, in Ro= a poor area, at the outskirts of a city, where usually gipsy communities used to live

"kör" (Tr)- "chior" (read as "kior" in Ro)= blind (in Romanian though, it can take a pejorative meaning [e.g. when sb bumps into sb else "chior" for "are you blind?" is used])

"tembel" (Tr)- "tembel" (Ro), but whereas in Turkish ="lazy", in Romanian it designates a "mentally ill person"

a Romanian county called "Teleorman" has Turkish origins- the name resulted from putting together of two Turkish words: "deli"+"orman"

a classic tango
Bahia Blanca- Carlos Di Sarli

A bridge too far: Just how far is too far in İstanbul?

"How do we measure distances in a city sprawling across hills, bodies of water and embracing two continents?

Do we measure by kilometers, or by how many minutes or even hours it will take to get from point A to point B? How do we decide when someplace is too far away?

Many people, I have found, consider the Bosporus to be a major qualifier of too far a distance. Those of us who happily reside on the Asian side find this to be a bit of a quandary. Friends from the European side often feel we live just too far away to easily visit.

Thinking it might be just my friends who didn’t want to cross the water, I queried other expats living on the Asian side about the reactions they get when inviting people to “the other side.” What, I wondered, was the response they received when they told people where they lived? My question was received with whoops of laughter as they related some of the common responses from European side friends.

“Oh my God! You actually live way over there?”

“What do you do when you want to go out for the evening -- come to our side?”

“We have so many great restaurants on this side, why don’t you head over here and we can eat someplace nice?”

“You want me to take a ferry to your side? Are you kidding?”

Why is a rush hour trip between Beyazıt and Taksim doable (provided you have the Sunday New York Times to read through on the trip), but a jaunt across the Bosporus is unthinkable for many? Do the bridges represent entry into some strange, oriental world? Is there something about crossing a body of water that automatically turns a short hop into a trek? True, the bridges are a horror at rush hour, but the rest of the day it’s smooth sailing over them. It’s even smoother sailing under them if you’re inclined to use the ferries.

Why must the Asian side resign itself to being considered the hinterlands of Istanbul? We have excellent restaurants, lively nightlife, miles of waterfront parks and shopping galore. The European side may have Istiklal Caddesi, but we have Bağdat Caddesi. (For those who haven’t dared to venture over to this side, picture Istiklal without the hordes of people shoving their way up and down the street and a wide tree-lined boulevard instead of a cable car.)

Back to the issue of distance -- sometimes it seems that we live in a city divided by a common body of water. Is Istanbul where East meets West, or where East versus West? Are those of us living on the Asian side destined to live just a bridge too far away?"

Today's Zaman, 08.03.2007

by KATHY HAMILTON