Teaching Moment...

I have never been happy with the English language as the global standard. A half-billion people get a pass on learning a second language, and everywhere else, those with a sufficient education in it will get a shot at middle-management in a foreign-owned conglomerate. It just seems a waste of human industry and creativity, but thus is the efficiency of capitalism, and I decry it.

Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that, as a teacher of English, I'm a beneficiary and fountainhead of this problem. I field questions and requests to teach from people in all walks of life, who sincerely and desperately want to improve their English as a means of improving their livelihood. I learn Turkish as a hobby, but these people need English... or think they do.

Spend a few months in Istanbul, and surely you will get a request to teach. A superficial look at the Istanbul Craigslist illustrates the demand for "teachers" of the language.

Fluency in a language is really, not as easy as most people think.

This happened a few years ago.

A room mate, who at the time was very interested in popular American hip-hop, yelled from his bedroom one evening a very pointed question: "Sean, what is this 'rim job' they are singing about?"

It's a fair question, and I was certain Erdem would encounter the phrase again. American pop-culture is littered with a wealth of scatological terms, and while Erdem's English is, grammatically speaking, near flawless, this wasn't the first time I had played consultant on matters of English jargon or slang.

I explained...

I encouraged him to note that it is a noun, not a verb, and provided verbal derivatives...

I even helped with a few example sentences, so he could practice correct use of the phrase...

Teaching moment, end of story.

Three days later, Erdem and I were on a bus together. It was mid-morning, and I have no memory of where we were heading, probably the Akmerkez. We caught a bus and sat in a forward section, where two pairs of seats face each other. Our stop was close to the bus terminal, and finding the seat and space to spread out wasn't difficult, but at the next stop, most of the seats filled up and a middle-aged woman sat down next to Erdem.

We had been quiet, still waking up, and suddenly Erdem's brain reanimated, as it were.

He let out a big laugh, and said, "Rim job, rim job, rim job. Isn't that kind of dirty?"

As he did so, I could see what he couldn't: the eyes of a horrified, middle-aged woman growing wider with each mention of the phrase. Apparently, she knew some American slang, too.

When I say "gimmick"...

... you say "cheap".

50 Cent is in Turkey this week. Curtis Jackson, in the middle of a performance in the Aegean summer resort of Çeşme, draped himself in a Turkish flag and began holler'in at the crowd:

"When I say Atatürk, you will say respect."

He also went on to ask audience members where he could find some weed.

Hayatimda bu kadar aptal bir hedefi benim memleketimden buraya gelebilecektiğini inanamiyordum.

Or in English, "Why do only douche bags have passports?"

Atatürk is a debatable figure, particularly among the audience that would want to see 50 Cent in concert here. It's hip-hop for god's sake, anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian, and lots of shiny. Bling... bling... come on!

Is it poor planning on the part of his handlers? I seriously doubt Curtis Jackson would knowingly go to Spain and pay his respects to Franco, or give a shout-out to Mussolini in Italy.

It's crap like this that makes it distincly embarrassing for me to be an American living in Turkey. In general, Americans know two things about Turkey:
1. Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (by that I mean his name)
2. A problem with Kurdish people is happening somewhere near here

Many would be hard pressed to find it on a map, because we haven't ever formally declared war on the country, so there's been little media interest.

Just as when Hillary, and later Obama, came to visit, I'll hear about this event for months; from taxi drivers and pastry sellers, and all sorts of people, generally on the right wing of Turkish politics that I prefer not to speak with because most of them will probably echo the same damn opinion. Somehow, this will get sucked into the nationalist rhetoric that I so frequently run into, and I'll be the ass (or worse, really offend someone) for pointing out that Curtis Jackson, in point of fact, is just an ignorant hip-hop star and not really the sort of person a proper Kemalist wants waving the flag around.

Seriously, every time an American gets a hold of a microphone in this country, they take a shot at exposing how fundamentally retarded and ill-informed we can be. I need my insulated, self-righteous indignation and sense of cultural superiority in order to justify continuing to live here. It's just too easy to connect the dots: Curtis Jackson = Tard, and Curtis Jackson = American, thus American = Tard, and in conclusion Sean = Tard.

Thanks a lot Curtis, keep on rockin.