Istanbul: Doing the Tourist Thing

I could blog about our textbook visits to Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque and Topkapi Palace, but you can both find better pictures online and read better descriptions in guidebooks. So why bother? That said, strolling in the shadows of a church/mosque with a birthdate in the 4th century while the entire city vibrates with the call to prayer is an inaffable experience that I urge you to partake. The otherworldliness never wore thin. I wish I had just sat there and taken it all in for hours. A city like Istanbul deserves more than windowshopping tourism.
In more interesting news, there was a revolt named Nika...Foreshadow?
Everywhere we went, I saw arrows that were pointing to Girls, but not really. At any rate, being the only straight male creature in our group, I really could deal with less estrogen. To that end, Istanbul was the perfect city; hardly any local women could be seen on the streets during the day. Male chauvinism was definitely the modus op. I didn't feel too kindly toward them, not with their persistent and sleazy advances toward the girls and racial disrespect toward me. I can't tell the difference between a Turk and a Kurd to save my life, but at least I know better than to go around saying "Merhaba" or "Shalom" to every Middle Eastern I see. Still, they seem like a rather warm and happy people, and that's a welcomed relief from Moscovites. Despite everything, I absolutely loved the hotel staff, who were geniunely warm and helpful and in all other ways wonderful.

Istanbul: What happened at 30k ft?

How did I end up in Istanbul, of all places in the world? Random.
The trip was destined for craziness, and what better place to begin than the 3-hr plane ride from Sheremyetovo to Ataturk International? I used to be a strong Boeing fan, but now after riding on an Ilyushin-86, I can be a fan of Airbus, too. A few notes on the (dis)comfort level:

• thin ass seats and back support
• broken fold-out table. On my seat, naturally
• little leg room, poor Becky
• no overhead compartments in the center of the fuselage, which was unheard of in our concept design class. While creating a feeling of overall spaciousness, that illusion was soon shattered by the lack of storage space for many people's 2+ carry-ons.
• the seatback actually folds forward, which was kinda cool. I had fun squeezing Kristle in her slumber. Poor Kristle. This will come back to haunt us later though...

Apparently the onboard etiquette are laid out different, as well. The Turks are quite a rowdy bunch and incredibly united when provoked. Case in point: a drunk/insane Russian lady started tossing all kinds of vulgarities at a Turk (unfortunately well endowed in the BO department) for whatever reason, and at first all the Turks just laughed while the Russians disapprovingly shook their heads. By the end of the plane ride, she had apparently found the balls to insult the great former Turkish Pres. Ataturk (which to me is like having a Chinese president named Wat Ah Chink), and that just sent bags full of shit straight into the jet fans. The Turks immediately started yelling, and one guy had to be restrained from rushing to beat the Russian crazy woman up. This is when the flight attendants come in, with their short hair and even shorter temper. An unrelated Russian started a second front by complaining about his peace being disturbed, and the Russian lady sitting next to him returned the volley by defending the flight attendants. All loudly and rudely, of course; what other way is there to argue in this world? Personally, I found it all kinda interesting and amusing. It's like a funny Twilight Zone.
Finally came the long-awaited landing. Ok, a decent touchdown...Hey, why's he braking so hard? Ohmygod, the seatbacks all folded onto us like a La-Z-Boy in reverse. All I could do was laugh; this trip is going to be amazing.

Adapters vs. Converters and Why I Didn't Do EE

Nika gave me a three prong US-to-European plug adapter and a two-prone converter. And what did I do in return to her graciousness? I fucked it up. The 3-prone can't even be used in Moscow because "grounding" seems like a foreign concept to them, like "not drinking". I didn't realize that my laptop already came with an adapter capable of taking inputs of both 120 and 240V, so I guess that's how I managed to short out the converter. When the burning smell of plastic and dioxine finally got to me, I gave up and just used a simple adapter, and it worked beautifully with my G-Max.

Not so good with my Sonic 6500. I should've used the converter, but instead, now my $80 toothbrush doesn't charge anymore, and I've resorted to actually brushing with the vibrational power of my hand. Like I said, I fucked it up. Sorry, Nika.

Goddamn the information revolution

There's not a thing I can do right now about Pakistan. No one in Moscow cares. There are no tents set up to collect donations. Do they even do the whole donation thing here? But I can't help but to read about it. 30,000 dead, more families torn, years to rebuild, if at all possible. Where do I fit in, except as a bystander? Do I still deserve to enjoy myself here? Do I still deserve to fly to Istanbul tonight for 4 days of vacationing, staying at a hotel with a pool?
I'm not even sure that I'll remember it when I pack away my $1000 Gigabyte tonight. What kind of sympathy is this?

棕色的捲髮

妳今晚沒放下 長到秀肩下的棕色捲髮

球鞋上還帶著泥 我已知有什麼不同

在燈光和音樂的搖滾中

妳不時的沉默 卻叫我心疼

五、六杯的烈酒

沖不淡 妳心中的憂

洗不淨 妳臉上忽隱忽現的愁

在冷清的馬路上 妳怨這世界不公平

身邊的苦難太多 我無法不同意

在這擁擠的灰色古市中 妳感到寂寞

可知妳卻不孤單 因我與妳相同

在往北的電車上 我的心情隨妳南下

想要擦去尚未滴下的眼淚 卻做不到

才知自己的有限 原來朋友不是那麼好做

而妳雖面對著我 卻遠在紅塵的另一角落

心中的結 仍與妳的捲髮 紮成一球

7 Steps to dealing with a drunk in the Moscow metro

1. Stand away from your friends, that way you appear to be an outsider and not one of the intended targets.
2. Divert his attention away from them by approaching, interjecting and starting a conversation.
3. Invite him to sit next to you on the metro. Be friendly, agree with what he says. Play the Chinese/American ethnicity duality as necessary.
4. Gain his trust, and then probe him calmly and amicably for intel. Determine his threat level.
5. Get your friends off the metro and make sure he doesn't follow them by keeping the conversation going. Some gentle physical and verbal "guidance" may be helpful.
6. You're on your own, get out of the situation ASAP. Try to end on a good note with a goodbye and a handshake.
7. Hope that he doesn't follow you instead.

@TimeOnline

FYI, I’m writing this post from TimeOnline in Okhotny Ryad underground mall right outside the Pretty Square. My sources living inside the Google search engine claimed that the staff here are friendly and English-capable. They are half right. Trying to set up WiFi while speaking in Russian and using a computer running Chinese XP was definitely kinda cool. Everyone should try it sometime. So there, my first WiFi post, from Moscow underground, no less.
Equally unimportant: watching SCPD lectures here is a no go. Sorry Sasha.