Today we had a general Turkish language course before heading down to the immigration office to apply for our residence permits. We have been to Sariyer to shop and eat. Sariyer is a district of Istanbul, similar to the way Brooklyn is a borough of New York City. This is the part of the city that Koc is located in. To get into this district we catch the bus on campus and ride down the hill until we are in the middle of Sariyer. I am still not used to the way that the Turkish bus drivers navigate the hills. The roads are fairly steep and much too small for the amount of traffic they carry, especially the bigger buses. All of the buses have a manual transmission and are driven similar to how many drive sports cars. On every trip we have made to Sariyer, the bus has been more than full. Everyone on the bus stands, even in the stair well by the door. This was the first time other than when I landed, that I have been able to see more of Istanbul than Sariyer. It took about an hour to get to the immigration office because there is always traffic in Istanbul. Koc had completed all the paper work for us, which saved a huge amount of time and effort for us. Apparently navigating the bureaucracy of the Turkish immigration office is next to impossible for a foreigner who does not speak Turkish. We had an appointment at 3 pm. We arrived at 2:30 and got some food from a café in the compound. After lunch we had to wait another hour and half before we were taken up for an appointment. After we had been called upstairs for our appointment, I had to wait at least an hour for my turn. Had we not had the appointment, we easily could have waited all day to get a number in line. The whole process from our standpoint only took about 5 minutes and required no communication from us. The process was completed by police behind glass. There were more police sitting around and talking than there were actually working. Once all 70 of us had finished our application we got on buses to head back to campus and prepare for our welcome dinner. However, whenever we left, there was more traffic and it was beginning to storm, so the drive took quite some time. The 70 exchange students in my group did not end up going to the welcome dinner, as we got back late and were very tired.

After de-planning, I wondered around the airport before finally going through the passport check and entering Frankfurt. The train station below the airport reminded me of Suburban Station, which I also managed to get lost in. With all of the signs in German, I was having a difficult time figuring out where I wanted to go, or even how to pay for my fair. According the Lonely Planet phrase book I bought back in Denver, Germans are considered an efficient people for the most part. As a result of this, there are no ticket windows for the regional and local trains. Looking at the machine I was completely lost. There was probably a code for just about everywhere in Germany listed and the instructions were in German only. There was an American couple in front of me being helped by a German with very good English. I walked over and asked for a quick pointer which he did happily. After I had purchased my ticket to Frankfurt however, he had disappeared and I had no idea which train to get on. It was much like getting to center city via the regional rail. If you couldn’t read the signs or schedules you might assume only one or two trains go through center city while the rest would have destinations surrounding the city. And like Philadelphia, most of the trains go to Frankfurt before splitting off. I felt pretty confident as we pulled away from the airport with the train above ground. I was thinking how it would be easy to tell when I wanted to get off because I would be able to see it. We then went underground and pulled into the station where all the lines come together. I followed the crowd thinking most of them would be going out to the city as I was only to find that they were all just as lost as I was and there was no exit to the city. A train to a specific part of the city had to be taken. With no idea of where I was going, I got on a train and stayed on it until it went above ground again. I got off when I could see some big buildings. Once off the train it took awhile to actually exit the station as I had bought a ticket to Frankfurt, but had gotten off by the “Fair Grounds,” which seemed like indoor sports complexes and concert halls. I walked around the complex to the exit and down a road that lead to the middle of cluster of large buildings. Along the way I noticed most people wearing suits, some even with scarves, and the occasional exotic car. After about a half hour of walking, I finally came to a café that looked affordable. I pulled out my phrase book and read up on how to order food. When I was ready I walked up to the counter only to find out that the server/cashier spoke or understood English pretty well. I asked him for directions, which is where is English dwindled, so he pointed me in the general direction and told me to ask for directions again when I got to the station. I went down into the station but had not taken note of the train I had taken into the city, so I once again pulled out my phrase book and prepared to ask for directions. She said she didn’t speak English so I showed her the book and she laughed and said ok and helped me. Meanwhile an Algerian man had also came up asking for directions. He spoke French and another language. She told him and we paired up to head back to the airport. Under my direction we got on the wrong train and basically got kicked off because we had the wrong tickets and an official was checking the tickets and told us to get off and head back and start over. We got off still not really able to communicate with each other. He muttered French softly as passengers who had gotten off with us passed until someone responded. This man was from Morocco. He directed us and shook our hands and sent us on our way. While we were waiting for our train we exchanged emails. He had called his wife and had her communicate with me because she spoke better English. When we finally made it back to the airport, we found out that he had missed his flight.