Sun, sea, sand... and slimy men.
So, my friend and I went to Turkey for a week, a resort called Bodrum. It was quite an experience; we went mainly for the beach, and to soak up a bit of the culture, but everything was so Anglicised. There were countless 'British pubs' and karaoke bars, and even a restaurant that proudly proclaimed that it served gravy pies! We did have a great time, lazing on the beach and sipping cocktails and such, but we were hassled constantly by people trying to sell us stuff, and men getting too friendly. Don't get me wrong, they never laid a hand on us, but they seemed determined to become our best friends, and continually talked of 'finding the one' I think we can loosely translate 'the one' as 'an English Visa'.
Here is a piece that I wrote whilst there, on the beach. I was suffering with homesickness quite badly, so it's not the most upbeat prose in the world, but I quite like it... it kind of sums up the contrasting juxtapositions that we were immersed in. I also feel that I should mention that a man offered me fifty camels for my friend Beccy.
Anyway, here goes:
On holiday, one dreams of romance, supposedly. But nothing could be further than that here. Perpetually single, I’m surrounded by unhappy couples and screaming children. And yet there are those couples too wrapped up in each other, sometimes quite literally. A waif of a woman reclines in her sunbed with the leg of her man wrapped around her like a serpent. He keeps readjusting her, as though scratching a part of himself. And then their son, perhaps fifteen, stands up, into my view, from the sunbed behind them, and they shift in my perception.
Bodies become a thing you’re much more aware of: writing or reading over your own stomach, the damp cling of a bikini you wish you’d purchased a size larger. There is a man without a belly button, and I wonder how he was born. My own winks at me, a constant reminder of where I came from, the very fleshiness of it all. The sag or squeeze of a pair of swimming trunks reveal too much of a man’s shape. And I marvel, too, at the many men with hips, as if androgyny is creeping upon us, one saggy male bottom or man breast at a time.
Then there are the children: the little girls with straight, up and down bodies. They’re quite tall, and seem to me like a plank of wood. I wonder how all of their organs can even fit in there, and if they can be truly alive. I guess they’re playing a waiting game, or their mothers are, while they play blissfully unaware in the place where the sea meets the shore, until one day a pair of breasts will spring up and surprise them.
Ladies struggle down the beach in neck-to-ankle bathing suits, baggy, with their heads covered, so as not to offend or arouse. But doesn’t this offend them? It seems, to me, to draw more attention to the issue—but perhaps this is because I’m not used to it. Yet they plunge into the waves gleefully with their children with water guns, and the sea, pulled by the moon, brings out their abundant curves of its own accord as their thin fabric is plastered to them.
This strikes me as such a contrast to the young men, who accost you from outside of bars. ‘Won’t you shake my hand?’ they ask you, after shouting ‘hey girls!’ and calling you like cattle. I wish they could understand the sensibilities of a handshake. They lure us for our money, and yet in some, the younger, the ones who are newly rearing their heads through twenty, there is a glint of something else, a more base greed, as they comment on the whiteness of our skin.
Homesickness sticks like a lump of apple pie somewhere between my bottom ribs and my heart. It’s higher than anxiety, which lingers around my belly button and creeps saltily up my throat. And yet it is not so high as heartache or depression. Though there is something delicious in heartache, a universality, knowing that it strikes all, like the burning sun. It is unavoidable, unlike these other pangs, which may or may not affect an individual. They are wolves, which hunt out the weak and rip at their organs.
So my plan of blogging about the week every Sunday afternoon definitely failed... by 24 hours. But here I am nevertheless. If anybody was biting their nails in anticipation of this, then I'm sorry. And I recommend Barry M base coat and nail hardener.
I've been in a perpetual bad mood, it seems, all week, so I apologise to my housemates and, for that matter, anybody that I've come across.
This has been my first week of 'yes to everything' (our catchphrase for post-exam fun), although it's been more like 'yes to some things, but other things I just can't be bothered to do'. However, stuff has occurred; mostly sunbathing because we have had some scorching weather (hooray!), watching bad films, reading trashy novels, shopping and the like. Oh, and barbecues... there have been so many barbecues this week!
Tuesday was the CU (Christian Union) BBQ... in the rain, sadly, where I nearly believed that Jesus had a twin brother called Nesus...
Wednesday was Apprentice night, with chinese takeaway because we hadn't got our act together in time to actually do some shopping and make some amazing food. I'm getting a little obsessed with this Apprentice series now, it took me longer than usual because it's not the real thing, only Jr. Apprentice, but nevertheless, I am now hooked. I want Tim to win, I think he's secretly great. He's so cool, and has a great smile... and I have to remind myself that he's only seventeen... I don't want to get a reputation! (cough)
After The Apprentice we went into the city to watch a midnight viewing of Sex and the City 2... it was really good, actually. I've never watched the series, but I saw the first film last week, and I really enjoyed it. Oh my gosh, the fashion! It made me feel like I'm a bad person because I don't own those clothes. Actually, it's the shoes that I'm really covetous of... but move on, envy isn't attractive on me (or anyone). I really loved the way they contrasted what it is to be a woman in America with what it is in a Muslim country... although perhaps it was bordering on racist at times. Good female solidarity, good sense of overcoming adverse situations, amazing fashion, overall a pretty good film. Will most probably purchase the DVD. One of the girls moving in with us next year has the entire set of SATC, so I'll watch those come September. My friends tell me I'm just like Charlotte, but I like to see myself as a Carrie, the whole writer thing etc... but I'll have to watch it and see!
Thursday I had a goodbye breakfast with some amazing people, as the third years are sadly graduating and leaving us. Genuinely heartbreaking, but amazing toast. On campus in the afternoon there was loads of free fun stuff, with inflatable assault courses, climbing wall etc, and amazing sunshine. Of course, we just got a jug of sex on the beach and lounged in the square watching all the action, which was quite exhausting enough, thank you very much. Then we went to a party (and, of course, BBQ) at some friends' house. Loads of our friends played some live music too, which was awesome, including two who have just released a charity album, check them out here http://dukeandsaunders.bandcamp.com/ their songs are so funny!
Friday included more sunbathing, and our friend who is going to Thailand for four months came to cook us dinner. He made amazing white chocolate truffle cake, and couscous salad, and it was genuinely one of the best meals I've had for ages. Mega kudos to him. And we had a game of Risk; we played global conquest, expecting it to take until the small hours... when in fact he wiped all four of us out in an hour and a half. Just because he'd conquered Europe early... we shouldn't have underestimated it. Rooky mistake. I'm secretly a massive board game geek. Actually, not that secretly.
Saturday was walking in the park by myself, and generally being grumpy.
Sunday, after church, I had a picnic with some friends who are going back to New York at the end of the week, so that was a little emotional. There was a thunderstorm too, talk about pathetic fallacy. It was great though, I love thunderstorms. I made some awesome cupcakes too, with my new silicone cupcake moulds, heart shaped ones that I bought in Lakelands, I seriously recommend them, as they don't go all wibbly.
Tonight we're having a party, but you'll have to wait until my blog on Sunday to hear about that! I bet you're counting down the hours already.
This week I haven't done as much reading as I would have liked, the same as every week, really. I read some trashy novella called The List, by Aneva Stout, which was fairly rubbish, except that it was actually quite interesting, narratively, written entirely in the second person, and as a list. It reminded me of a short story I wrote last year... I might post it up here if I can find it. It was called 'How to Fall in Love', and was inspired by the story 'How to Become an Expatriot'... I can't remember who wrote that though, someone American. My memory stick died, though, so I've lost all my writing. However, I think this story is in a notebook I have at my parents' house.... I'll try and find it once I'm at home (at the end of this week! I can't believe it's almost summer already!).
I'm also reading One Hit Wonder by Lisa Jewell, which I assumed would be equally trashy, but it's actually well written, and I'm really enjoying it. Might check out her other book too, for a bit of holiday reading. Still reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, too, which I love, although makes me feel pretty unworthy, as a woman. And I'm scared about getting old by it, too. I'm turning 21 in September, and then I'd like to stop ageing please. I also started a Christian book called Where is God in a Messed up World? by Roger Carswell, which is all about suffering etc. so that's really helpful.
I've managed to do quite a lot of writing. I started a novel, set in my home town, and I finished the first chapter on that this week, and I've done the first page of the next chapter too, now, so that's great. I've got one of those gold-dust friends who has offered to proof-read it for me, also, hooray! Incidentally, it's his birthday today, so happy birthday! He won't read this, but maybe he'll feel blessed from the cyberspace good wishes going his way nonetheless. I'm also writing a Christian book, which I felt really called to write a week or two ago, and I've done the first chapter of that too, so quite a productive week on the writing front. Full steam ahead!
So this week has been a very long week; it started with me dropping my toothbrush out of the window, and ended with a ball--I think Austen would be proud of me!
Sunday the weather was gorgeous, so after church (and after somehow dropping my toothbrush out of the bathroom window so that it sailed downstairs, past the kitchen window -- to the surprise of my housemates -- and landed in the garden), we had a spot of picnicking, and instigated a new game of Human Cluedo, resulting in the deaths of two out of three guys present (in the cafe with a hat, and in the park with a fork). After eating enough cake for three kids' birthday parties, we returned to church for the evening service, and I was given a bicycle by a lady who didn't want it any more. She insisted she didn't want me to buy her anything to say thank you, so I'm being sneaky and made her a bracelet to take to her this evening.
The rest of the week was a blur of procrastination and a small amount of studying for my Austen and the Brontes exam, which was on Friday, with a brief interlude of curry and Apprentice night, with lots of friends and lots more tea. It seems to me that exams are disproportionate to the amount of work and stress that goes into them: weeks of studying, days of anxiety and hair falling out, all for two hours in an angular room and answering two questions--out of the twenty possible ones you studied for. It doesn't seem fair to me, and I'm sure neither Austen nor any of the Brontes would be pleased to know what their novels have become subject to. However, I have now finished my second year at uni, and I don't have any exams next year (my final year), so sucks to be you, everyone else!
Wagamama with housemate occurred, with loads of noodles, green tea, and chilli cheesecake (if you haven't sampled it... do! now.) We accidentally went shopping and spent too much money. Purchased some Benefit mascara under strict instructions from aforementioned housemate... I'm quite impressed thus far, I have to say. Even if it did cost a week's rent (no, not quite!).
Which, of course, brings me to last night's ball. I went with that housemate and our friend from accross the park, who kindly drove us, and, for that matter, invited us, as it was HER church's ball, not ours. Nevertheless, we looked beautiful, and even arrived on time. I was slightly concerned that her car might turn into a pumpkin at midnight, but it was fine... and both shoes remained firmly on my feet. All five inches of them... I was still only just the same height as everyone else though. Luckily being five foot two doesn't stop you dancing all night.
There was an awkward moment when the band played a slow song and "take the hand of that special person" occured, when my friends and I (all the single ladies) were sitting down at a table. It felt like being a 12-year-old bystander at the school disco once more, when the parting of the Red Sea divides the couples and the singles. And yet, it didn't actually bother me. That must have been the first time ever (apart from my smug, being-in-a-couple days). 'Being content in my singleness' is something I struggle with a lot, but I think I might have cracked it at last. Hooray! I finished reading a book called Mirror Mirror by Graham Beynon, this week, which has been really helpful about things like this, reminding me that my identity is rooted in Christ, and not anything superficial--look it up on Amazon... I can't seem to put the link in this (anyone know why?). Also Disciplines of a Godly Woman by Barbara Hughes has proved invaluable to me recently.
This week I've been reading The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Leguin, after watching the film The Jane Austen Book Club,thinking I should give science fiction a go (I've been experimenting with genre... trying to figure out who I am as a writer/reader), but I didn't take to it, really, and couldn't quite finish it. I found the names too much of a barrier, and my brain switches off as soon as anything scientific comes a long... the clue was in the title really, I should have known. I've also been reading Wilde's The Portrait of Dorian Gray, and thus far I'm loving it. I especially love "there is nothing so real as words", I really relate to that--words are so powerful (as I argued in my last Shakespeare essay).
But it's not just about rhetoric; words are so powerful in conjuring emotion too. I laugh, cry and fall in love far more freely in books than I do in real life (well... I do all of those things often in real life too). We all love Lizzy Bennet and hate Mr Collins, and those are genuine emotions that are being kindled... yet Austen never pretends to us that her characters are real. Look at Northanger Abbey, she keeps stepping into the plot herself, as the author, and telling us why she has Catherine do certain things... yet we treat them as true life, almost, nonetheless.
