It's that special time again when I write down all the letters I have been composing in my head....
Dear Neighbours-opposite,
Wow aren't you popular! I guess your friends don't know many other people whose complex has a swimming pool huh? Amazing you can fit 15 of you into your three bedroomed house! And you all sound like you are having so much fun - the balcony is definitely the coolest place to sit and enjoy yourselves - I don't know if you realise this or not, but actually the balcony is not in the least soundproof. Nor is the garden - letting five kids loose without supervision to run around is going to get lively! Here's the thing, all those babies are very cute, but would you please get you friends to put swimming nappies on them when they go in the pool? Baby-pee doesn't gross out parents and family, but to anyone else it's just pee. I don't want to swim in a toilet, I really really don't want my kids to. I know those nappies are a bit more pricey than the regular ones, but just think about all the money your friends are saving by using the pool for free / not staying in a hotel! maybe they can put it to good use?
Love,
Your hot grouchy neighbour who hasn't been in the pool for a few days.
Dear Omer Tugrul Inancer,
You want pregnant women to stay at home because they are not "aesthetic"??? Seriously? How does that even make sense? On a daily basis I see both women and men who are so-fat-they-could-be-pregnant-but-aren't wandering around, should they stay at home too? Isn't it nicer to see someone who is heavy with child rather than heavy with too much pie? Is it ok if they are a really pretty pregnant person? I have to assume all these pregnant people you've seen are fairly healthy because in between the swollen feet, water retention, and forty degree heat you really don't want to wander far when you are eight months gone. To be honest I felt like I deserved a meddle when I walked to the shop to buy bread when I was that pregnant. Is it because pregnancy is a sign of fertility whereas obesity is a sign of imminent heart attack? I'm still struggling to see how imminent death is more aesthetic than imminent new life.
Any thoughts?
Confused-from-Fethiye.
Dear people of Agin,
You caught a bird and assumed it was an Israeli spy? You obviously really love your country and want to keep it safe. Yay patriotism.
Keep loving your country!
Best,
Maecy
Dear Governor of Agin,
It has recently come to my attention that the people in your town are both exhibiting signs of paranoia and limited education. It is not normal to see a bird and assume it is an Israeli spy. Someone really needs to explain about "bird migration" to your people - they must of noticed that birds disappear in the winter surely? The appropriate response is actually not to x-ray the bird and release it when cleared of all charges. Maybe you could introduce them to some pigeons, birds that think the appropriate response to oncoming traffic is to out run it rather than fly away, are both entertaining and amazingly reassuring when you are worried that all birds are spies.
Just a thought.
Dear Fabric-Man-in-the-market,
You rock. I love your 5 lira fabric. 1.5m square of awesomeness. So far I have recovered 6 dining room chairs, a foot stool, and a lazee-boy. It's like I have new furniture! I'd tell you this to your face when I turn up again next Tuesday to dig through the big piles of material, but you know, we are in Turkey and I don't make eye-contact with strange men here.
Please keep being awesome,
The very tall foreigner.
P.S. the cushion covers faded when I washed them. Hasn't put me off.
Dear Men of the world.
I don't like speedos. It has nothing to do with your age of physique, I just think they are weird. It is a little too close to public nudity for me. Sometimes if your belly is really big, you can't tell you are wearing anything at all. It's a little disconcerting. Also I don't think long hair and bald spots are a good combination. And I really don't know why, but I find long nails on men really repulsive. I'm sorry. It makes me fell like a bigot judging you so, but I just had to put it out there.
All the best with being attractive in the future,
Maecy.
Dear Hero and Reis,
When you get to be teenagers and go through your obligatory period of rebelliousness, please don't use the above as your template. Wear black and use eyeliner all you want, just keep those nails short.
Love
Mum.
Dear Tile-guy,
I don't know if you know this but you are now the sixth person to get the job working on our tiles. Two of the others didn't turn up. The other four were fired for being so deeply incompetent. Please last more than a morning.
Yours,
The people who really, really don't want their house covered in grout.
Dear Husband,
You have done an amazing job on the house. I am awed, inspired, and amazed by you. Don't give up!
Love
Wife
Dear Rafey,
I can't believe how well you are doing learning to read! I did not think we would get this far so fast, you are doing so so well. Could you please please please do me a favour and get to grips with the difference between P, B, D, and N though? Forgetting between the beginning and end of a three letter word can be a tad frustrating,
Love
mum-trying to-keep-seeing-the bigger-picture.
Dear Metro-Vista weather station,
When you predict storms and then change your prediction back to full sun and 40 degrees it makes my week just that little bit harder. Please get it right the first time.
Maecy the-fan-is-my-best-friend.
Dear Me,
It may feel like you are too hot and too confused to even exist right now, but this is an illusion. You will feel so much better if you actually achieve stuff. Turn off the computer and get on with it.
Love,
......
connection terminated.
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Thoughts on sexism.
I was just reading an article about sexism. It's a decent read in my opinion. Basically it gives examples of high profile people who have been sexist in public - the most recent major offence being the whole "Andy Murray was the first Brit to win Wimbledon in 77 years" thing - you know the claim that is now filling my facebook news feed with pictures like this:
However the most interesting part of this article for me, were the comments underneath. I love it when an article gets a whole heap of comments - you get a real sense of where the world is on these issues (and by "world" I mean the demographic who reads whatever newspaper the article is in, there is obviously a vast difference between the type of comments you get on a Daily Mail story, to those on one from The Guardian. The article in question is from the Independent, which is middle of the road-ish.)
Unsurprisingly enough the comments swung in two different directions "Yes the author's right, men should grow up;" and "Come off it, the situation isn't that bad" / "Men are different to women, accept it." As a side note, I do actually agree that in general men are different to women, I just don't think that you can stereotype away opportunity - even if the majority of women don't want careers as bricklayers, even if the majority of men don't want careers as nannies, there shouldn't be any problem when some of them do. And as a second related side note, I watched this video this week about the first woman to run the Boston marathon, I think most people these days would find the race organisers attack on her (mid way through the marathon) surprising / shocking / unnecessary, which is a good sign that we have moved on in the last forty years.
Anyway, the comment I found most interesting was the one asking for with examples of sexism against men (with the premise there aren't many) - but for me it is easy, way too easy to point to some: The Simpson's tops my list, followed by Family Guy, and Everybody Loves Raymond. Chat shows like Loose women which have that tut-tut-you-know-men-are-useless vibe to them. A vibe I see echoed all the time in too many women when they chat about their husbands'. I see it in children's books like The Bernstein Bears - men portrayed as dopey, clumsy, thoughtless, macho. It's a less direct form of sexism. It's often very funny. A kind of worming-it's-way-into-your-consciousness type of thinking that you barely notice. Most of the listed shows are created by, and scripted by men - I don't know what that says about the situation, if men are being sexist about themselves does it just count as irony? You know like when Chris Rock does his stand up shows and uses words to describe black people that I can't even think about typing without feeling deeply uncomfortable, but his whole (99.9% black) audience finds hysterical?
Turkey has a sexist culture. Men are surprised when women do well. It is an insult to tell a man he is "acting like a woman" (a grown up version of "you're crying like a little girl") In the last decade I have never seen a female: refuse collector, builder, painter, plumber, electrician, bus driver, fisherman etc etc here. Excuses for rape are treated as a hell of a lot more valid than they are in the West. Domestic violence and honour-killing are both subjects I have seen on TV dramas, not as a shock factor, but as a general plot device. I could give plenty of examples from my own home life, but I don't want to start my day by depressing myself. If you want to read about how my marriage works click here. On the upside, Turkey is not sexist like real Arab countries are, here is a classic example from the wonderful Saudi Woman's Weblog. Turkey is not as close to creating an equal society as the West, but it has the advantage over countries-to-the-right-of-it that every so often it actually acknowledges there is a problem.
I'm not sure I really have a point here. Sexism is two sided and it's everywhere. Women are worse off. The whole knocking-people-down-to-make-yourself-look-better thing sucks. But at the same time there is not a healthy balance, it needs redressing. I don't feel guilty about finding The Simpson's funny, I don't want to feel guilty about it. My hope is in my children, that I can teach them a better way of loving the world they are in. And my hope is with children like this who despite all the odds really do exist:
Update: came across this video, love it.
However the most interesting part of this article for me, were the comments underneath. I love it when an article gets a whole heap of comments - you get a real sense of where the world is on these issues (and by "world" I mean the demographic who reads whatever newspaper the article is in, there is obviously a vast difference between the type of comments you get on a Daily Mail story, to those on one from The Guardian. The article in question is from the Independent, which is middle of the road-ish.)
Unsurprisingly enough the comments swung in two different directions "Yes the author's right, men should grow up;" and "Come off it, the situation isn't that bad" / "Men are different to women, accept it." As a side note, I do actually agree that in general men are different to women, I just don't think that you can stereotype away opportunity - even if the majority of women don't want careers as bricklayers, even if the majority of men don't want careers as nannies, there shouldn't be any problem when some of them do. And as a second related side note, I watched this video this week about the first woman to run the Boston marathon, I think most people these days would find the race organisers attack on her (mid way through the marathon) surprising / shocking / unnecessary, which is a good sign that we have moved on in the last forty years.
Anyway, the comment I found most interesting was the one asking for with examples of sexism against men (with the premise there aren't many) - but for me it is easy, way too easy to point to some: The Simpson's tops my list, followed by Family Guy, and Everybody Loves Raymond. Chat shows like Loose women which have that tut-tut-you-know-men-are-useless vibe to them. A vibe I see echoed all the time in too many women when they chat about their husbands'. I see it in children's books like The Bernstein Bears - men portrayed as dopey, clumsy, thoughtless, macho. It's a less direct form of sexism. It's often very funny. A kind of worming-it's-way-into-your-consciousness type of thinking that you barely notice. Most of the listed shows are created by, and scripted by men - I don't know what that says about the situation, if men are being sexist about themselves does it just count as irony? You know like when Chris Rock does his stand up shows and uses words to describe black people that I can't even think about typing without feeling deeply uncomfortable, but his whole (99.9% black) audience finds hysterical?
Turkey has a sexist culture. Men are surprised when women do well. It is an insult to tell a man he is "acting like a woman" (a grown up version of "you're crying like a little girl") In the last decade I have never seen a female: refuse collector, builder, painter, plumber, electrician, bus driver, fisherman etc etc here. Excuses for rape are treated as a hell of a lot more valid than they are in the West. Domestic violence and honour-killing are both subjects I have seen on TV dramas, not as a shock factor, but as a general plot device. I could give plenty of examples from my own home life, but I don't want to start my day by depressing myself. If you want to read about how my marriage works click here. On the upside, Turkey is not sexist like real Arab countries are, here is a classic example from the wonderful Saudi Woman's Weblog. Turkey is not as close to creating an equal society as the West, but it has the advantage over countries-to-the-right-of-it that every so often it actually acknowledges there is a problem.
I'm not sure I really have a point here. Sexism is two sided and it's everywhere. Women are worse off. The whole knocking-people-down-to-make-yourself-look-better thing sucks. But at the same time there is not a healthy balance, it needs redressing. I don't feel guilty about finding The Simpson's funny, I don't want to feel guilty about it. My hope is in my children, that I can teach them a better way of loving the world they are in. And my hope is with children like this who despite all the odds really do exist:
Update: came across this video, love it.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Improvements in the village.
The council has been hard at work!!
The bottom half of the picture is a street near me.
The bottom half of the picture is a street near me.
Friday, May 3, 2013
How to buy a house in Fethiye (and maybe the rest of Turkey too)
Turkey is one of those places where nothing is set in stone. There are laws, mostly good ones too - but when you try to find out exactly what those laws are you run in to trouble. Everyone has a different answer, and I don't just mean random people you ask, I mean even if you go to the official government department relevant to your query you can get a different answer from every person working there. So this is how we bought a house in Fethiye, if you buy a house here in Fethiye your experience maybe similar-ish. If you buy one somewhere else in Turkey it will probably only be a very distant cousin of the process I went through. Important note: we were on a budget, a very very tight one.
Step 1 The search:
An obvious place to start your search would be google. You might type in something like "property in Fethiye," or "real estate Fethiye" - you'd get lots of hits and think you were on a roll. The problem with this is that you are only going to get results from agents. As with most every country in the world, it is cheaper to buy from an actual person - check out Sahibinden - this link will take you through to the English version of the site. "sahibinden" means from the owner - some of the house are, some aren't. The real estate agents have the bonus factor that a lot of them can speak some vague semblance of English. If you go directly to the owner you will almost certainly need someone Turkish to speak for you. This may sound daunting, but here's the thing if you are wanting to move to Turkey you need to get used to things being in Turkish. Everything is. You can pay for translators, you can make some friends at a bar and get them to help you out, you can trust to luck that there will be an English speaker around whenever you need to do something: but essentially you need a plan for dealing with life in a foreign country. This is just the first step. The bonus of doing it now is that houses from owners are often 10 to 20,000 lira cheaper than those offered by real estate agents - seriously it is worth making the effort.
Note, I haven't found estate agents distrustworthy, but I have found them to often be very poor at their jobs, you can read about that here. If you do feel safer with a real estate agent check out the views and reviews on this forum, and if you are adverse to any type of risk at all the guy who set up this forum also has an estate agency - he is by all accounts totally trustworthy and generally awesome. Husband and I did not feel the need to be ultra safe, as we trusted ourselves to spot the charlatans (more on that later.)
Alongside sahibinden, milliyet emlak is a good one to check out, though the English version often seems to have kinks in (note. if you use the google-english-translate function it converts the prices by simply swapping the TL for a pound sign - this is not accurate.) For properties being sold by English people check out the local classifieds, and the fethiye buy-sell-rent group on facebook.
A note about property in Turkey - there are a lot of new houses. New is by no means a guarantee of quality, but they sure look pretty! Every year more new houses are built, they are even prettier! This means that if you bought a new house, then want to sell it only a few years later, unless you have done magical things with it, or are in a really really good location, it will almost certainly have dropped in value. English people (apologies for the sweeping generalisation) by and large, don't get this - it took me a while to get it. Your home will eventually go up in value (provided you didn't pay silly money for it to start with) but if you are looking for a quick turnaround study the market and remember people like pretty things. Ten years is a lot more viable time frame to make money on your property. Anyway the point of this - if you buy from English people they are often pricing their properties a lot higher than a Turkish person would in the same situation,partly for this reason and partly because English people seem to end up paying more to start with. Houses are cheaper in Turkey, a lot lot cheaper than the UK, don't just settle for "wow this seems cheap!" it is but check it is a good price for Turkey, not the UK.
During the summer season house prices go up because a lot of tourists (both Turkish and foreign) are buying, the cheapest time of year is winter.
Step 2 The viewing
Surveyors are not a thing in Turkey. When a bank grants you a mortgage, they may or may not come to see the property. Sometimes they swing by and count the bedrooms, but mostly they just check the set value of you property on their computer and say how much they will lend based on that. This means you need to be the surveyor. Check the windows (often badly fitted,) check for dampness and humidity (endemic in Fethiye) - look for new paint, mould, weird smells, bring a humidity tester with you. Check to roof space - a lot of rooves leak, if it is an apartment you still need to find out about the roof because it is often considered a communal charge. Best of all ask the neighbours - find out how the drainage is, if there has been flooding etc etc. Furniture is often included in the sale price - the houses on sale are usually summer homes and people don't want to pay shipping on stuff they already have. Buying things new in Turkey is expensive. Buying things second hand is very cheap, so bear that in mind when negotiating - you are doing each other a favour.
Note: it may seem like a good idea to ask the owner why they are leaving, you could do this I guess but people lie, especially if they are leaving because the sewage pipes keep overflowing. Neighbours are a much better bet, as is the previously mentioned calis beach forum - a lot of the members are long time residents / visitors to Turkey and have the gossip on all the different apartments and areas.
You might also want to call in people to check things individually - plumbing is frequently botched, electricity boards equally frequently have too-small fuses. This group is a good place to check to find people who can help with that and generally ask questions
Once you have seen a place, ask for a copy of the Tapu - house registration document / deeds - and take it along to the council offices to be vetted. Make sure the sellers name matches the name on the Tapu. Make sure the building has building permission. This is an ongoing cheat to both Turks and foreigners who buy houses which are illegal, you can still buy them, but they should cost a lot less. You should also bear in mind that it might be possible to get house building permission, but then again it might not be. It is extremely rare to be able to build a house larger than 25% of the land size, and usually it's 15%, if it is farm land it is never more than 10% and more likely 5%. Some land it will never be ok to build on. Some the people who live on the land have been paying taxes for it and living on it, but the land is not actually "residential," - what they are actually selling you is the right to have first refusal to buy the land when the government re-zones it to residential or tourist areas. It's dicey, but might be worth the risk if you are willing to accept that you might not be able to afford the land price later, and might lose your home at an unspecified point in the future (like paying all your rent in advance.) We considered a few properties along these lines but in the end went with a fully legal one. The land registration people will be able to tell you all the details about you house and the plot it stands on. They will also tell you if the house has a mortgage / bad debt - make sure this is paid off before you sign the land deeds or it could be transfered to you.
Another thing to check is the electric - ask to see a bill. There are several different types of electricity supply in Turkey - the two most prevalent are residential and construction. When you build a house you use construction electricity. This is more expensive. A property has to be converted to residential electricity with five years of completion. It costs a chunk of change to do so and if you don't you face a hefty fine. Note: if you do buy a property both your water and electric meters have to be purchased from and installed by the official water and electricity companies - this can be confusing as every hardware store sells them. They are not official, they are just to help people split up bills if they divide their houses, don't get caught out, the fines are astronomical, have something insane attached to them like a 500% interest rate and are just so not worth it!
Step 3 The haggle
If you want to haggle you need to study the market. Our budget was very tight, so properties we liked and could afford were not plentiful, it took us over a year to buy. The one we eventually got had been on the market the whole time I was searching, (and for a while before that) by the time we went to see it, the seller was very ready to drop his price. A lot of the properties are on the market for a very long time. There are a few reasons for this: sometimes people are just "trying their luck" - they don't really want to sell, but if they got their (outlandish) asking price they'd happily leave - sometimes they do and then all the prices in the area go up for a season or so before people realise it was just a fluke and come back to earth. Sometimes people got a bargain purchase and have put it straight back on the market at a higher price. There is one I keep seeing in the property pages at the moment, we looked at it when it was on for 90,000tl - someone bought it, did nothing, and it is back on for 150,000tl! But the main issue is the selling season is short, there is plenty of choice, but not plenty of customers. I don't think houses are a thing you should rush into, be honest about your last price and leave your number with the seller, they may well get back to you at the end of the summer if it hasn't sold and they are comfortable taking a lower price.
Step 4 The purchaseprocess marathon. Inc. steps to help you not get ripped off.
Note: this is not legal advice, I am not a lawyer, consider this a part of the extensive research you should do before committing any part of your savings to property investment.
From this point on for most everything you will need: passport photos (get a stash of 20 to keep you going,) a Turkish bank account, a Turkish tax number, your passport.
If you are foreign and want to buy a property in Turkey you have to have military clearance. This takes somewhere between six weeks and six months (sometimes longer, so far as I know never shorter.) This is also the only part I did through a real estate agent. They charged me 300tl to fill in the forms and process them. I used Apple Estate and have no complaints.
This is where things get tricksy - if you are Turkish you (obviously) don't have to get military clearance and the whole buying a house process can be done in a day. Really, just a day - once your clearance is through it will take one busy morning and you'll be all done. So if you buy from a Turkish person then having to wait an indefinite amount of time to close the deal and get the full house money can be irksome to say the least. Here is how we got around it. When we bought a house the owner had a mortgage on it (buyer beware - you can sell on a house with a mortgage, and the mortgage gets transferred too - the government has plans to change this but so far as I know it hasn't been done yet.) Anyway, he was especially anxious to pay off his mortgage (frightening 10% interest rate) - so we paid it off as our deposit. In return he gave us a cheque to the value of what we had paid. Cheques are different in Turkey to the UK, they are a legally binding contract. You get them individually from the bank and they have to be witnessed, if someone tries to cash one they can not be defaulted on without legal proceedings. He also gave us the house keys. We moved in and finished the process when my clearance came through. You might want to get a lawyer to hold the cheque for you (or the seller might want this) - ours trusted us not to cash it in.
You can of course go to a lawyer and get a contract drawn up instead stating what you are paying, at what stages, when you get to take possession of the house etc. We looked into this, the lawyer wanted 300tl, but the notary who would have to stamp the contract to make it official wanted 1500tl. We found the cheque method simpler - at the end of the day if the seller got a better offer and dumped us we were sure to get our money back. Him also giving us the keys was semi-unusual, he wasn't living in the property and didn't mind us going straight in. The seller knew he'd get the rest of his money because of course we couldn't get the land deeds without his signature - and he wouldn't sign anything unless he'd been paid.
I don't know the process in the UK, I think buying a house can take 3 months or so there anyway, so maybe a British seller would be more sympathetic to the military clearance issue. I don't know what kind of deposits people usually give in the UK either, I guess if you are both British you work out your own system of trust and security how you are used to.
So once your military clearance has come through the seller has to make an appointment at the Tapu office. You need to have dask in place before you go to this. Dask is compulsory earthquake insurance. Anywhere you see the word "SIGORTA" (insurance) will do it for you - the price is set by the government, currently around 110tl. So take that, your photos, passport, tax number and go to the appointment. The seller will be handing similar documents in to. You hang about while they process this and then they give you a form with a code for going to pay the property tax - around 4% of the registered price of your house. You do this at Ziraat bank - you can go in of use the special cash machine that accepts money. It is split between the buyer and the seller, the seller pays a little more. You get a receipt, return to the tapu office, hand it all in and half an hour later they are ready for you to sign stuff. In Fethiye you need a translator present for this - the office will give you a number of one of their registered people (an English speaking friend won't do, even if you speak Turkish, as I do, you still need a translator.) They read out the details of the sale - you should already know exactly what you are getting if you have thoroughly checked the Tapu - you say ok, sign your name, and they give you your land deeds.
Note - the amount you pay for your house may be different from the council-set price written on your tapu. This is normal. Ours was almost the same but that is unusual. If (heaven forbid) your house is destroyed by an earthquake your dask insurance only covers you up to the value of the amount on your tapu. If the price is really really different - you might want to do a bit more market research, these days the price shouldn't be that much lower. You have to get the current value from the land office - whatever is written on the current tapu is out of date within a year.
This was my experience and how we dealt with it - if you have more information, have done a blog post on the same subject please tell me / link it in the comments.
Step 1 The search:
An obvious place to start your search would be google. You might type in something like "property in Fethiye," or "real estate Fethiye" - you'd get lots of hits and think you were on a roll. The problem with this is that you are only going to get results from agents. As with most every country in the world, it is cheaper to buy from an actual person - check out Sahibinden - this link will take you through to the English version of the site. "sahibinden" means from the owner - some of the house are, some aren't. The real estate agents have the bonus factor that a lot of them can speak some vague semblance of English. If you go directly to the owner you will almost certainly need someone Turkish to speak for you. This may sound daunting, but here's the thing if you are wanting to move to Turkey you need to get used to things being in Turkish. Everything is. You can pay for translators, you can make some friends at a bar and get them to help you out, you can trust to luck that there will be an English speaker around whenever you need to do something: but essentially you need a plan for dealing with life in a foreign country. This is just the first step. The bonus of doing it now is that houses from owners are often 10 to 20,000 lira cheaper than those offered by real estate agents - seriously it is worth making the effort.
Note, I haven't found estate agents distrustworthy, but I have found them to often be very poor at their jobs, you can read about that here. If you do feel safer with a real estate agent check out the views and reviews on this forum, and if you are adverse to any type of risk at all the guy who set up this forum also has an estate agency - he is by all accounts totally trustworthy and generally awesome. Husband and I did not feel the need to be ultra safe, as we trusted ourselves to spot the charlatans (more on that later.)
Alongside sahibinden, milliyet emlak is a good one to check out, though the English version often seems to have kinks in (note. if you use the google-english-translate function it converts the prices by simply swapping the TL for a pound sign - this is not accurate.) For properties being sold by English people check out the local classifieds, and the fethiye buy-sell-rent group on facebook.
A note about property in Turkey - there are a lot of new houses. New is by no means a guarantee of quality, but they sure look pretty! Every year more new houses are built, they are even prettier! This means that if you bought a new house, then want to sell it only a few years later, unless you have done magical things with it, or are in a really really good location, it will almost certainly have dropped in value. English people (apologies for the sweeping generalisation) by and large, don't get this - it took me a while to get it. Your home will eventually go up in value (provided you didn't pay silly money for it to start with) but if you are looking for a quick turnaround study the market and remember people like pretty things. Ten years is a lot more viable time frame to make money on your property. Anyway the point of this - if you buy from English people they are often pricing their properties a lot higher than a Turkish person would in the same situation,partly for this reason and partly because English people seem to end up paying more to start with. Houses are cheaper in Turkey, a lot lot cheaper than the UK, don't just settle for "wow this seems cheap!" it is but check it is a good price for Turkey, not the UK.
During the summer season house prices go up because a lot of tourists (both Turkish and foreign) are buying, the cheapest time of year is winter.
Step 2 The viewing
Surveyors are not a thing in Turkey. When a bank grants you a mortgage, they may or may not come to see the property. Sometimes they swing by and count the bedrooms, but mostly they just check the set value of you property on their computer and say how much they will lend based on that. This means you need to be the surveyor. Check the windows (often badly fitted,) check for dampness and humidity (endemic in Fethiye) - look for new paint, mould, weird smells, bring a humidity tester with you. Check to roof space - a lot of rooves leak, if it is an apartment you still need to find out about the roof because it is often considered a communal charge. Best of all ask the neighbours - find out how the drainage is, if there has been flooding etc etc. Furniture is often included in the sale price - the houses on sale are usually summer homes and people don't want to pay shipping on stuff they already have. Buying things new in Turkey is expensive. Buying things second hand is very cheap, so bear that in mind when negotiating - you are doing each other a favour.
Note: it may seem like a good idea to ask the owner why they are leaving, you could do this I guess but people lie, especially if they are leaving because the sewage pipes keep overflowing. Neighbours are a much better bet, as is the previously mentioned calis beach forum - a lot of the members are long time residents / visitors to Turkey and have the gossip on all the different apartments and areas.
You might also want to call in people to check things individually - plumbing is frequently botched, electricity boards equally frequently have too-small fuses. This group is a good place to check to find people who can help with that and generally ask questions
Once you have seen a place, ask for a copy of the Tapu - house registration document / deeds - and take it along to the council offices to be vetted. Make sure the sellers name matches the name on the Tapu. Make sure the building has building permission. This is an ongoing cheat to both Turks and foreigners who buy houses which are illegal, you can still buy them, but they should cost a lot less. You should also bear in mind that it might be possible to get house building permission, but then again it might not be. It is extremely rare to be able to build a house larger than 25% of the land size, and usually it's 15%, if it is farm land it is never more than 10% and more likely 5%. Some land it will never be ok to build on. Some the people who live on the land have been paying taxes for it and living on it, but the land is not actually "residential," - what they are actually selling you is the right to have first refusal to buy the land when the government re-zones it to residential or tourist areas. It's dicey, but might be worth the risk if you are willing to accept that you might not be able to afford the land price later, and might lose your home at an unspecified point in the future (like paying all your rent in advance.) We considered a few properties along these lines but in the end went with a fully legal one. The land registration people will be able to tell you all the details about you house and the plot it stands on. They will also tell you if the house has a mortgage / bad debt - make sure this is paid off before you sign the land deeds or it could be transfered to you.
Another thing to check is the electric - ask to see a bill. There are several different types of electricity supply in Turkey - the two most prevalent are residential and construction. When you build a house you use construction electricity. This is more expensive. A property has to be converted to residential electricity with five years of completion. It costs a chunk of change to do so and if you don't you face a hefty fine. Note: if you do buy a property both your water and electric meters have to be purchased from and installed by the official water and electricity companies - this can be confusing as every hardware store sells them. They are not official, they are just to help people split up bills if they divide their houses, don't get caught out, the fines are astronomical, have something insane attached to them like a 500% interest rate and are just so not worth it!
Step 3 The haggle
If you want to haggle you need to study the market. Our budget was very tight, so properties we liked and could afford were not plentiful, it took us over a year to buy. The one we eventually got had been on the market the whole time I was searching, (and for a while before that) by the time we went to see it, the seller was very ready to drop his price. A lot of the properties are on the market for a very long time. There are a few reasons for this: sometimes people are just "trying their luck" - they don't really want to sell, but if they got their (outlandish) asking price they'd happily leave - sometimes they do and then all the prices in the area go up for a season or so before people realise it was just a fluke and come back to earth. Sometimes people got a bargain purchase and have put it straight back on the market at a higher price. There is one I keep seeing in the property pages at the moment, we looked at it when it was on for 90,000tl - someone bought it, did nothing, and it is back on for 150,000tl! But the main issue is the selling season is short, there is plenty of choice, but not plenty of customers. I don't think houses are a thing you should rush into, be honest about your last price and leave your number with the seller, they may well get back to you at the end of the summer if it hasn't sold and they are comfortable taking a lower price.
Step 4 The purchase
Note: this is not legal advice, I am not a lawyer, consider this a part of the extensive research you should do before committing any part of your savings to property investment.
From this point on for most everything you will need: passport photos (get a stash of 20 to keep you going,) a Turkish bank account, a Turkish tax number, your passport.
If you are foreign and want to buy a property in Turkey you have to have military clearance. This takes somewhere between six weeks and six months (sometimes longer, so far as I know never shorter.) This is also the only part I did through a real estate agent. They charged me 300tl to fill in the forms and process them. I used Apple Estate and have no complaints.
This is where things get tricksy - if you are Turkish you (obviously) don't have to get military clearance and the whole buying a house process can be done in a day. Really, just a day - once your clearance is through it will take one busy morning and you'll be all done. So if you buy from a Turkish person then having to wait an indefinite amount of time to close the deal and get the full house money can be irksome to say the least. Here is how we got around it. When we bought a house the owner had a mortgage on it (buyer beware - you can sell on a house with a mortgage, and the mortgage gets transferred too - the government has plans to change this but so far as I know it hasn't been done yet.) Anyway, he was especially anxious to pay off his mortgage (frightening 10% interest rate) - so we paid it off as our deposit. In return he gave us a cheque to the value of what we had paid. Cheques are different in Turkey to the UK, they are a legally binding contract. You get them individually from the bank and they have to be witnessed, if someone tries to cash one they can not be defaulted on without legal proceedings. He also gave us the house keys. We moved in and finished the process when my clearance came through. You might want to get a lawyer to hold the cheque for you (or the seller might want this) - ours trusted us not to cash it in.
You can of course go to a lawyer and get a contract drawn up instead stating what you are paying, at what stages, when you get to take possession of the house etc. We looked into this, the lawyer wanted 300tl, but the notary who would have to stamp the contract to make it official wanted 1500tl. We found the cheque method simpler - at the end of the day if the seller got a better offer and dumped us we were sure to get our money back. Him also giving us the keys was semi-unusual, he wasn't living in the property and didn't mind us going straight in. The seller knew he'd get the rest of his money because of course we couldn't get the land deeds without his signature - and he wouldn't sign anything unless he'd been paid.
I don't know the process in the UK, I think buying a house can take 3 months or so there anyway, so maybe a British seller would be more sympathetic to the military clearance issue. I don't know what kind of deposits people usually give in the UK either, I guess if you are both British you work out your own system of trust and security how you are used to.
So once your military clearance has come through the seller has to make an appointment at the Tapu office. You need to have dask in place before you go to this. Dask is compulsory earthquake insurance. Anywhere you see the word "SIGORTA" (insurance) will do it for you - the price is set by the government, currently around 110tl. So take that, your photos, passport, tax number and go to the appointment. The seller will be handing similar documents in to. You hang about while they process this and then they give you a form with a code for going to pay the property tax - around 4% of the registered price of your house. You do this at Ziraat bank - you can go in of use the special cash machine that accepts money. It is split between the buyer and the seller, the seller pays a little more. You get a receipt, return to the tapu office, hand it all in and half an hour later they are ready for you to sign stuff. In Fethiye you need a translator present for this - the office will give you a number of one of their registered people (an English speaking friend won't do, even if you speak Turkish, as I do, you still need a translator.) They read out the details of the sale - you should already know exactly what you are getting if you have thoroughly checked the Tapu - you say ok, sign your name, and they give you your land deeds.
Note - the amount you pay for your house may be different from the council-set price written on your tapu. This is normal. Ours was almost the same but that is unusual. If (heaven forbid) your house is destroyed by an earthquake your dask insurance only covers you up to the value of the amount on your tapu. If the price is really really different - you might want to do a bit more market research, these days the price shouldn't be that much lower. You have to get the current value from the land office - whatever is written on the current tapu is out of date within a year.
This was my experience and how we dealt with it - if you have more information, have done a blog post on the same subject please tell me / link it in the comments.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
You Know You've been in Turkey a Long Time When...
How to know when you have passed the point of no return and 'gone native.'
You actually feel more comfortable with slippers than without
You find 'animals in the home' a surprising concept
You get mad if people ask "are you from Russia?" rather than "where are you from?"
You keep un-opened milk in the cupboard not the refrigerator.
On holidays abroad, the colour and size of courgettes and cucumbers are so different from what you are used to you struggle to be sure if they are labelled correctly.
You still wear a sweater when it's 25 degrees celsius (80f)
Chickens wandering around in urban areas no longer surprise you.
Just the word bacon is exciting, as are packet spice mixes, and cadbury chocolate.
You plan sentences in your head before you say them.
You think minced meat (ground beef) is "ready food."
You automatically remove your shoes when entering a home.
You start to view cars as a luxury item.
You notice people who do not have Mediterranean colouring.
You return to your country of origin and have to remind yourself to make eye contact with the opposite sex.
An unknown man saying good morning to you on the street is confusing, mildly threatening, something to think about.
You find "tourist clothes" both culturally and weather inappropriate.
The words "son fiyat" fill you with excitement.
You know what to do with pekmez.
You can find a passable substitute for just about any unobtainable ingredient in any Western recipe.
Squat toilets make you groan but not run.
When you visit family, you find the price of everything unbelievably expensive.
You stop buying chocolate in green wrappers and expecting it to be minty.
On trips abroad you are surprised how few people smoke.
If someone brings you a plate of food, you never return the plate empty.
As a parent, you are thrown into confusion on holidays because the kid shouting "Mummy!" is not yours.
You are surprised when people understand you on the first time of asking.
You cook 'Turklish' food.
When in a foreign supermarket you are weirded out a) because the fruit department has no smell, b) because none of the available fruit is in season, c) because pork is not in a special section labelled with giant warning signs / very very very expensive.
You stop thinking men holding hands is an indication of their sexuality.
You don't hear the mosque-man singing any more.
If you go to a restaurant and order fish, you are surprised if it turns up and doesn't actually look like a fish.
The people abroad you feel closest to are those who update their status on facebook most frequently.
You think the supplements in a Sunday newspaper are the best bit.
You stop being surprised when people consider yogurt a condiment.
Two men fighting in the middle of the main road? maneouver around them and keep on driving. Don't bother looking back.
If you live in the south - sunny weather and hot water become inextricably linked in your mind.
When new arrivals complain about Turkey you a) can give them a positive for each of their negatives, b) wish they would go back to where they came from.
When the adverts come on TV the remote is already in your hand to turn the volume down.
You have stopped wondering why people keep a small chair in their shower.
Pasta served with a basket of bread? why not!
You are unsurprised when it takes twenty forms and visits to five different government departments to do anything official. You have a stash of at least twenty passport photos.
Lawns are something remarkable.
Whether from a builder, a doctor, or a dentist you never trust the first diagnoses.
You accept dust balls appearing one day after vacuuming as a fact of life.
You are deeply shocked if you see underwear in full view on a washing line.
You realise that not being able to understand loud speaker announcements from the village intercom and from passing vans is in no way a reflection on your ability to speak Turkish. The locals can't understand them either.
You tell new Turkish friends you are "waiting for them" to come over. You know you will never see them again.
The idea of mixing water, salt, and yogurt to make a bubbly drink, no longer seems unfathomably weird.
You stop calling somewhere other than where you live 'home.'
If you really thought about it, you'd describe yourself as an immigrant not an expat.
Note: I wrote an article in a similar vein a few years back for the newspaper Today's Zaman. If you want to read it, click here.
You actually feel more comfortable with slippers than without
You find 'animals in the home' a surprising concept
You get mad if people ask "are you from Russia?" rather than "where are you from?"
You keep un-opened milk in the cupboard not the refrigerator.
On holidays abroad, the colour and size of courgettes and cucumbers are so different from what you are used to you struggle to be sure if they are labelled correctly.
You still wear a sweater when it's 25 degrees celsius (80f)
Chickens wandering around in urban areas no longer surprise you.
Just the word bacon is exciting, as are packet spice mixes, and cadbury chocolate.
You plan sentences in your head before you say them.
You think minced meat (ground beef) is "ready food."
You automatically remove your shoes when entering a home.
You start to view cars as a luxury item.
You notice people who do not have Mediterranean colouring.
You return to your country of origin and have to remind yourself to make eye contact with the opposite sex.
An unknown man saying good morning to you on the street is confusing, mildly threatening, something to think about.
You find "tourist clothes" both culturally and weather inappropriate.
The words "son fiyat" fill you with excitement.
You know what to do with pekmez.
You can find a passable substitute for just about any unobtainable ingredient in any Western recipe.
Squat toilets make you groan but not run.
When you visit family, you find the price of everything unbelievably expensive.
You stop buying chocolate in green wrappers and expecting it to be minty.
On trips abroad you are surprised how few people smoke.
If someone brings you a plate of food, you never return the plate empty.
As a parent, you are thrown into confusion on holidays because the kid shouting "Mummy!" is not yours.
You are surprised when people understand you on the first time of asking.
You cook 'Turklish' food.
When in a foreign supermarket you are weirded out a) because the fruit department has no smell, b) because none of the available fruit is in season, c) because pork is not in a special section labelled with giant warning signs / very very very expensive.
You stop thinking men holding hands is an indication of their sexuality.
You don't hear the mosque-man singing any more.
If you go to a restaurant and order fish, you are surprised if it turns up and doesn't actually look like a fish.
The people abroad you feel closest to are those who update their status on facebook most frequently.
You think the supplements in a Sunday newspaper are the best bit.
You stop being surprised when people consider yogurt a condiment.
Two men fighting in the middle of the main road? maneouver around them and keep on driving. Don't bother looking back.
If you live in the south - sunny weather and hot water become inextricably linked in your mind.
When new arrivals complain about Turkey you a) can give them a positive for each of their negatives, b) wish they would go back to where they came from.
When the adverts come on TV the remote is already in your hand to turn the volume down.
You have stopped wondering why people keep a small chair in their shower.
Pasta served with a basket of bread? why not!
You are unsurprised when it takes twenty forms and visits to five different government departments to do anything official. You have a stash of at least twenty passport photos.
Lawns are something remarkable.
Whether from a builder, a doctor, or a dentist you never trust the first diagnoses.
You accept dust balls appearing one day after vacuuming as a fact of life.
You are deeply shocked if you see underwear in full view on a washing line.
You realise that not being able to understand loud speaker announcements from the village intercom and from passing vans is in no way a reflection on your ability to speak Turkish. The locals can't understand them either.
You tell new Turkish friends you are "waiting for them" to come over. You know you will never see them again.
The idea of mixing water, salt, and yogurt to make a bubbly drink, no longer seems unfathomably weird.
You stop calling somewhere other than where you live 'home.'
If you really thought about it, you'd describe yourself as an immigrant not an expat.
Note: I wrote an article in a similar vein a few years back for the newspaper Today's Zaman. If you want to read it, click here.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
An Unexpected Bonus of Having Children.
There are
good and bad sides to having kids. It is deeply fulfilling to be a parent
(though not in an all-encompassing way,) but it can also be almost equally
frustrating. Nothing will test your patience like having to give the same
instructions every day for months on end until it becomes habit. Teaching
siblings how to communicate with each other rather than bicker is painfully
slow. Teaching them to request not demand is exhausting. Teaching them to
appreciate what they have already got rather than what they want is a trial.
Keeping your eyes on the prize of creating adults-you'd-want-to-know can seem
an almost unreachable goal.
That said, yesterday I realised one awesome aspect of having kids. My boys like to talk. I mean really like to. Mostly about the subjects that specifically interest them (Hero: empires and the Ottomans, Rafey: Mario, farting) but also about random crap. Yesterday I made myself some coffee and reached for the sugar to put in it. That was weird. It's been nearly a decade since I drank coffee with sugar, and even then it was just for a few months. I don't like sweet coffee. Even unasked for decorative syrup, drizzled on top of a coffee-shop latte can be too sweet for me (I have to spoon it off quickly and pretend it's a separate thing.) Obviously I needed to alert the rest of the family to this oddity. Here's how my husband reacted:
"Huh."
When pushed to expand his thoughts a little he postulated that maybe I had been eating too much Haribo candy and my brain was now turning into a jelly baby. Or maybe I was turning into a jelly fish. It was enriching stuff.
Not so my children. They spent a good fifteen
minutes pondering this strange dilemma. Questioning every aspect of it - when
was the last time I had sugar in my coffee, why did I stop, which hand did I
use to reach for the sugar. They were genuinely interested! They
didn't come up with any ideas as to the 'why' at all but man did they make this
non-event in my life feel validated!That said, yesterday I realised one awesome aspect of having kids. My boys like to talk. I mean really like to. Mostly about the subjects that specifically interest them (Hero: empires and the Ottomans, Rafey: Mario, farting) but also about random crap. Yesterday I made myself some coffee and reached for the sugar to put in it. That was weird. It's been nearly a decade since I drank coffee with sugar, and even then it was just for a few months. I don't like sweet coffee. Even unasked for decorative syrup, drizzled on top of a coffee-shop latte can be too sweet for me (I have to spoon it off quickly and pretend it's a separate thing.) Obviously I needed to alert the rest of the family to this oddity. Here's how my husband reacted:
"Huh."
When pushed to expand his thoughts a little he postulated that maybe I had been eating too much Haribo candy and my brain was now turning into a jelly baby. Or maybe I was turning into a jelly fish. It was enriching stuff.
They may wake up way too early, and ask me to pass them things that are already in front of them, and never ever put their socks in the laundry basket without being reminded, but they are interested!
Note. I fully realise that 'interested' and 'interesting' are two entirely different things.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Dear so and so...
I write letters like these in my head a lot...
The Lazy Girl's Guide to Life does some pretty funny ones too.
Dear Facebook Friends,
I have noticed recently that the majority of you no longer seem to be able to have a hobby (eg. running, reading, travelling) without getting sponsorship for it. Consequently I have decided to set up my own "just giving" page. Please sponsor me to sit around in my pyjamas eating cake and playing around on the internet. I plan to make this event last for my entire life. So you can see it is a really major and deserving commitment!
All proceeds from your sponsorship will be spent on butter.
Love your friend who is truly amazed how many good causes there are.
Dear Turkish "plumbers"
Knowing how to turn on a tap is not the same as knowing how to lay pipes and plumb in a toilet. Just so you know, even I a non-plumber, wouldn't think that attaching the washing machine and toilet for two different apartments to the same 5cm pipe a good idea. It wasn't. I'm going to start asking to see your certificates.
Your sincerely,
maecy ( aka Mrs. there-is-not-enough-bleach-in-the-world.)
Dear bigots who keep commenting on news stories about the Boston Marathon Bombing with the phrase "not all Muslims are terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslim."
I would like to draw your attention to this list. By and large and terrorists found in Ireland are not going to be Muslim. Nor are the ones in Spain. If they include the word "Sikh" in their name that should be a clue that they aren't Muslim either. I can also pretty much guarantee that the communist ones aren't Muslims.
There is no shame in taking a deep breath and fact checking inflammatory statements before you make them. You might even find that you learn something!
Sincerely,
A person who knows how to use google.
Dear every blogger ever,
Please add a subscribe by email button to your blog. You have to be beyond exceptional for people to keep coming back and checking your page, and even then it's still hard to remember. Add one, give your readers a break
xxmaecy-with-mummy-brain
Dear USA,
I'll try not to assume you are all obese, undereducated, lazy, scarily right-wing Christians, and /or porn stars, if you don't assume everyone who lives in a Muslim country is an oppressed, brain-washed, terrorist in waiting.
Deal?
Yours sincerely,
maecy (religion undisclosed)
Dear Rafey,
You can not be full just because your brother finished his food faster than you. Eating and giggling are not compatible.
xxx mum (don't-make-me-tell-you-to-finish-your-food-again.)
Dear Countries that Oppress Women,
Your economy will never be strong if half your population can't work. Please stop being wrong. If you let both men and women make real choices you'll be surprised how well things can work out!
Yours faithfully
A stay at home mother (by choice)
Dear Turkish Real Estate Agents,
A few tips:
1) Be aware of how many bedrooms a property has - don't put one number in the title and another in the description.
2) Learn how to use google maps - pinning an unspecified point in the sea does not back up your claim that the property is near the beach, it undermines it.
3) 'Lux' means 'luxury.' You need to go with a general standard of luxury here - i.e. better than normal. You need to assume that the people checking your properties don't live in a leaky tent, and are used to the concept of a building having both windows and walls - it needs to have more than just these things if you want to label it as luxury.
4) A man without a shirt sitting on the couch is not a selling point. Please ask him to move before taking any more photos.
5) If you claim there is a sea view you should take a picture of it.
6) When you take photos make sure they show the actual rooms - not just a corner of them / the ceiling, but the whole space. You may be excited about your staircase but no one else will be. Your photos should include both the inside and outside of the house - it's not an either/or thing. There should not be more photos of the surrounding area than of the actual house.
7) I know this seems daunting but you really should include some photos, especially if your asking price is 20 times the average annual wage.
8) When you give a contact number on a website, you need to ensure it is a) a valid number, b) your number c) that you won't then forget to pay your phone bill / switch your phone off for the next three months etc.
9) You work on commission, if someone calls about a property and you say you will call them back you should really do that.
10) Pounds and lira follow an exchange rate (multiply by 2.5 as a rough guide.) 90,000tl is not the same as £90,000.
11) Driving and walking are done at different speeds, try to specify which you mean rather than using the two interchangeably without any clarification.
12) If the property you are trying to sell is listed with more than one agent, check you are all selling it at the same price.
All the best with not going bankrupt,
maecy (in the end found a property without your "help")
Dear Hero,
If you tease your little brother for an hour without stopping, he's going to end up hitting you. I will not be sympathetic.
Just sayin'
Love mum
Dear Me,
Here's a tip - it takes two minutes to double check you turned off the iron. If you do this you will not: leave the house, go to town, get struck by paranoia, panic because there is no bus, waste an hour making an expensive and convoluted journey home despising yourself for all those desperate "emergency only" prayers, only to discover the iron was off all along.
Please be smarter,
Love
Dear H,
If you ask me to look for something, go out, then find it in the car, call and tell me. The house will not be torn to shreds and I will not be frazzled and frustrated when you come home (maybe.)
xm
Dear Disqus, Google +, and your friends,
I just want to be able to get a few thoughts down by writing a blog. I really like reading other peoples blogs and commenting on them. I want to comment as my blog. Why is that so hard? I don't want to have to be signed up to twenty different programmes just to say "hear ya!" to someone in blog land. I'm not thick, but I really really don't get the point of any of you! I want people to click on my name when I comment and get to my blog so they can get to know me, not click on my name and end up on some rubbish profile page which says nothing. I'm the type of person who buys a phone to make phone calls not throw birds as bombs / take low-grade photos / programme my oven. Can you please make it an option for people like me to use your websites?
Pretty please??
maecy / interesting ordinary
The Lazy Girl's Guide to Life does some pretty funny ones too.
Dear Facebook Friends,
I have noticed recently that the majority of you no longer seem to be able to have a hobby (eg. running, reading, travelling) without getting sponsorship for it. Consequently I have decided to set up my own "just giving" page. Please sponsor me to sit around in my pyjamas eating cake and playing around on the internet. I plan to make this event last for my entire life. So you can see it is a really major and deserving commitment!
All proceeds from your sponsorship will be spent on butter.
Love your friend who is truly amazed how many good causes there are.
Dear Turkish "plumbers"
Knowing how to turn on a tap is not the same as knowing how to lay pipes and plumb in a toilet. Just so you know, even I a non-plumber, wouldn't think that attaching the washing machine and toilet for two different apartments to the same 5cm pipe a good idea. It wasn't. I'm going to start asking to see your certificates.
Your sincerely,
maecy ( aka Mrs. there-is-not-enough-bleach-in-the-world.)
Dear bigots who keep commenting on news stories about the Boston Marathon Bombing with the phrase "not all Muslims are terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslim."
I would like to draw your attention to this list. By and large and terrorists found in Ireland are not going to be Muslim. Nor are the ones in Spain. If they include the word "Sikh" in their name that should be a clue that they aren't Muslim either. I can also pretty much guarantee that the communist ones aren't Muslims.
There is no shame in taking a deep breath and fact checking inflammatory statements before you make them. You might even find that you learn something!
Sincerely,
A person who knows how to use google.
Dear every blogger ever,
Please add a subscribe by email button to your blog. You have to be beyond exceptional for people to keep coming back and checking your page, and even then it's still hard to remember. Add one, give your readers a break
xxmaecy-with-mummy-brain
Dear USA,
I'll try not to assume you are all obese, undereducated, lazy, scarily right-wing Christians, and /or porn stars, if you don't assume everyone who lives in a Muslim country is an oppressed, brain-washed, terrorist in waiting.
Deal?
Yours sincerely,
maecy (religion undisclosed)
Dear Rafey,
You can not be full just because your brother finished his food faster than you. Eating and giggling are not compatible.
xxx mum (don't-make-me-tell-you-to-finish-your-food-again.)
Dear Countries that Oppress Women,
Your economy will never be strong if half your population can't work. Please stop being wrong. If you let both men and women make real choices you'll be surprised how well things can work out!
Yours faithfully
A stay at home mother (by choice)
Dear Turkish Real Estate Agents,
A few tips:
1) Be aware of how many bedrooms a property has - don't put one number in the title and another in the description.
2) Learn how to use google maps - pinning an unspecified point in the sea does not back up your claim that the property is near the beach, it undermines it.
3) 'Lux' means 'luxury.' You need to go with a general standard of luxury here - i.e. better than normal. You need to assume that the people checking your properties don't live in a leaky tent, and are used to the concept of a building having both windows and walls - it needs to have more than just these things if you want to label it as luxury.
4) A man without a shirt sitting on the couch is not a selling point. Please ask him to move before taking any more photos.
5) If you claim there is a sea view you should take a picture of it.
6) When you take photos make sure they show the actual rooms - not just a corner of them / the ceiling, but the whole space. You may be excited about your staircase but no one else will be. Your photos should include both the inside and outside of the house - it's not an either/or thing. There should not be more photos of the surrounding area than of the actual house.
7) I know this seems daunting but you really should include some photos, especially if your asking price is 20 times the average annual wage.
8) When you give a contact number on a website, you need to ensure it is a) a valid number, b) your number c) that you won't then forget to pay your phone bill / switch your phone off for the next three months etc.
9) You work on commission, if someone calls about a property and you say you will call them back you should really do that.
10) Pounds and lira follow an exchange rate (multiply by 2.5 as a rough guide.) 90,000tl is not the same as £90,000.
11) Driving and walking are done at different speeds, try to specify which you mean rather than using the two interchangeably without any clarification.
12) If the property you are trying to sell is listed with more than one agent, check you are all selling it at the same price.
All the best with not going bankrupt,
maecy (in the end found a property without your "help")
Dear Hero,
If you tease your little brother for an hour without stopping, he's going to end up hitting you. I will not be sympathetic.
Just sayin'
Love mum
Dear Me,
Here's a tip - it takes two minutes to double check you turned off the iron. If you do this you will not: leave the house, go to town, get struck by paranoia, panic because there is no bus, waste an hour making an expensive and convoluted journey home despising yourself for all those desperate "emergency only" prayers, only to discover the iron was off all along.
Please be smarter,
Love
Dear H,
If you ask me to look for something, go out, then find it in the car, call and tell me. The house will not be torn to shreds and I will not be frazzled and frustrated when you come home (maybe.)
xm
Dear Disqus, Google +, and your friends,
I just want to be able to get a few thoughts down by writing a blog. I really like reading other peoples blogs and commenting on them. I want to comment as my blog. Why is that so hard? I don't want to have to be signed up to twenty different programmes just to say "hear ya!" to someone in blog land. I'm not thick, but I really really don't get the point of any of you! I want people to click on my name when I comment and get to my blog so they can get to know me, not click on my name and end up on some rubbish profile page which says nothing. I'm the type of person who buys a phone to make phone calls not throw birds as bombs / take low-grade photos / programme my oven. Can you please make it an option for people like me to use your websites?
Pretty please??
maecy / interesting ordinary
Monday, April 1, 2013
The village school.
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Thursday, March 28, 2013
Who ate all the pie? (me I hid it so I wouldn't have to share and gobbled it when you weren't looking.)
Today I had one of those very girly gossips with some friends where we all
confessed how much fatter we are. And let me say I really am - I rarely weigh
myself, knowing how much I weigh does nothing for my self esteem so it is on my
list of things to avoid, along with horror movies, and reading books about
people who've had miserable childhoods. Anyway, the other day I got on the
scales for the first time in at least a year and discovered to my surprise I had
put on fifteen kilos (if you work in pounds, lets just pretend they are the
same.) That's a lot. I had kind of vaguely noticed I was fatter. My breasts have
been leaping out my bra on a more regular basis, and some of my trousers have
been harder to do up than they used to be, but I didn't have a clue I was so
very much more.
My first reaction was to panic, you know that heart beating fast "Oh my goodness I'm so ugly, I have to lose this now, yesterday, this can't continue." Then I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror for a while. I didn't hate what I saw. I'm not massively keen on my figure naked, but in clothes I like how I look. I like having a fuller figure, I have a very defined waist, big hips and big breasts. My extra weight is in proportion. If I cover up in baggy stuff I look shapeless and fat. If I celebrate how I'm shaped I look a bit on the sexy-glamorous scale. At least I think I do, and as that is the main battle I don't really need anyone else to verify it.
I've bought some new clothes recently. A-line skirts, long sleeved t-shirts, and cute cardigans. They flatter me. I tried to get some new jeans, as my two pairs (I'm not a clothes person, I really do just have two pairs) have somehow ended up on two different continents, neither of which I am on. Not entirely to my surprise I was unsuccessful - I need at least a 36 inch leg and the longest length here in Turkey appears to be 34. I can wait until I am next on holiday. I feel really good in the stuff I bought, like I am celebrating me, a thing I sometimes find very hard to do.
One of the women I was chatting to has just reached the same place, she's bigger than me, though I guess we weigh the same, she doesn't have the six foot tall frame to re-distribute it so well. But she looks great, amazing actually - a real life yummy mummy. We reminisced about how we didn't appreciate what we had back in the day, the day being our respective teens and twenties (I'm twenty nine, so I can claim the end of my twenties as a victory for self esteem.) I had the startling revelation the other day, that right now at this moment I am the youngest I am ever going to look. This is it, every day is my best and I'm at peace with it.
But then here's the weird thing, twice in the last couple of weeks I've been asked if I'm pregnant and both times I've found it funny. I've assured the askers that no, I've just spent the last winter eating pies, lemon meringue pie, pumpkin pie, chocolate pie, all with extra butter and all with cream on top. It didn't bother me. Then today my eight year old asked me why I was fatter and followed it up by telling me my "tummy looks pregnant." And I was pissed. I mean really irrationally angry. I hid it as much as I could and explained to him that saying that kind of thing was rude, but I really hated it. When my husband squeezes my fat, as he tends to do if ever we snuggle together, I physically recoil. It feels like a judgement. I don't think he means it that way. Turks have an odd relationship with weight - they very openly comment on it. Without being asked, without knowing you well, when they are accepting your hospitality, they will tell you you are fat. It is rarely said as an attempt to injure you, it's done with about as much interest as a Brit might have in commenting on the weather - it's just kind of part of what you say. But I don't get why their very innocent behavious upset me.
I get that being thin is an international standard of beauty. Models and Hollywood and all that shebang. But I feel like in the real world full of people who don't have personal trainers, or simply aren't motivated to go to the gym, who don't have the money for plastic surgery, or botox or whatever people do to make themselves real life photoshopped, there should be a different standard. One where we see the beauty in exactly what the person is right at this moment. I can do it for myself, I can do it for other people, but am I the only one? Sometimes I think I am, I don't want to hear people apologise for how they look, I don't want them to make excuses for their waist lines, I don't want them to tell me they are unhappy with how they are. I want them to buy some better clothes and have a look in the mirror and love what they see, because I am yet to meet someone who if you look at them for just a second or two longer than normal, isn't just a little bit beautiful.
For many years I had a very up and down relationship with dieting if you would like to read about that you can do so here it is a longish, fairly amusing tale.
My first reaction was to panic, you know that heart beating fast "Oh my goodness I'm so ugly, I have to lose this now, yesterday, this can't continue." Then I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror for a while. I didn't hate what I saw. I'm not massively keen on my figure naked, but in clothes I like how I look. I like having a fuller figure, I have a very defined waist, big hips and big breasts. My extra weight is in proportion. If I cover up in baggy stuff I look shapeless and fat. If I celebrate how I'm shaped I look a bit on the sexy-glamorous scale. At least I think I do, and as that is the main battle I don't really need anyone else to verify it.
I've bought some new clothes recently. A-line skirts, long sleeved t-shirts, and cute cardigans. They flatter me. I tried to get some new jeans, as my two pairs (I'm not a clothes person, I really do just have two pairs) have somehow ended up on two different continents, neither of which I am on. Not entirely to my surprise I was unsuccessful - I need at least a 36 inch leg and the longest length here in Turkey appears to be 34. I can wait until I am next on holiday. I feel really good in the stuff I bought, like I am celebrating me, a thing I sometimes find very hard to do.
One of the women I was chatting to has just reached the same place, she's bigger than me, though I guess we weigh the same, she doesn't have the six foot tall frame to re-distribute it so well. But she looks great, amazing actually - a real life yummy mummy. We reminisced about how we didn't appreciate what we had back in the day, the day being our respective teens and twenties (I'm twenty nine, so I can claim the end of my twenties as a victory for self esteem.) I had the startling revelation the other day, that right now at this moment I am the youngest I am ever going to look. This is it, every day is my best and I'm at peace with it.
But then here's the weird thing, twice in the last couple of weeks I've been asked if I'm pregnant and both times I've found it funny. I've assured the askers that no, I've just spent the last winter eating pies, lemon meringue pie, pumpkin pie, chocolate pie, all with extra butter and all with cream on top. It didn't bother me. Then today my eight year old asked me why I was fatter and followed it up by telling me my "tummy looks pregnant." And I was pissed. I mean really irrationally angry. I hid it as much as I could and explained to him that saying that kind of thing was rude, but I really hated it. When my husband squeezes my fat, as he tends to do if ever we snuggle together, I physically recoil. It feels like a judgement. I don't think he means it that way. Turks have an odd relationship with weight - they very openly comment on it. Without being asked, without knowing you well, when they are accepting your hospitality, they will tell you you are fat. It is rarely said as an attempt to injure you, it's done with about as much interest as a Brit might have in commenting on the weather - it's just kind of part of what you say. But I don't get why their very innocent behavious upset me.
I get that being thin is an international standard of beauty. Models and Hollywood and all that shebang. But I feel like in the real world full of people who don't have personal trainers, or simply aren't motivated to go to the gym, who don't have the money for plastic surgery, or botox or whatever people do to make themselves real life photoshopped, there should be a different standard. One where we see the beauty in exactly what the person is right at this moment. I can do it for myself, I can do it for other people, but am I the only one? Sometimes I think I am, I don't want to hear people apologise for how they look, I don't want them to make excuses for their waist lines, I don't want them to tell me they are unhappy with how they are. I want them to buy some better clothes and have a look in the mirror and love what they see, because I am yet to meet someone who if you look at them for just a second or two longer than normal, isn't just a little bit beautiful.
For many years I had a very up and down relationship with dieting if you would like to read about that you can do so here it is a longish, fairly amusing tale.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
The sound of violence
We have a family living in the apartment above us. Husband, wife, and a baby
about 3 months old. Last night I sat in my living room and listened to the
husband try to kill his wife. There was a lot of deep voiced yelling, a lot of
high-pitched wailing and shouting, and every so often a frantic baby cry.
I was surprised how little the baby cried.
A lot of ornaments were smashed on the floor above my head.
There was a lot of bashing and thumping. I'm reasonably sure he was slamming her against the wall.
The police arrived about ten minutes after we called them - they went up the stairs, spoke to the guy, and left five minutes later after giving him a warning for disturbing the peace.
The wife didn't want to report him. She did not want to be taken to the refuge.
I went to bed. Today their has been a lot of vacuuming.
I don't know what to think about this. I hate the guy. Hate him. How can he live with himself? How can he do this? I don't get it. I mean in a way I can imagine a couple getting in a huge fight and one of them going for the other - but this sounded more along the lines of a systematic beating. What the fuck - how does anyone have the mindset, the complete lack of control to do this? I know it happens a lot, but I don't think it's normal, and I don't see why it happens. It just shouldn't.
I feel like I should comment on why the woman didn't leave, what that means in respect to Turkey. First Turkey is big, what happens on one side of the country may be dealt with completely differently on the other side. So in my small corner of the country, oftentimes if the woman does report it, a common phenomenon seems to be the husband is arrested, gets out the next day, comes home and beats his wife worse. I've seen two local news stories recently, one about a foreign woman killed by her boyfriend, the other a father scared for his daughter's life begging the police to protect her. These stories and the 'One billion rising' movement which was well represented in my town, has been increasing pressure on the police to do something about domestic violence.
It's not like the laws in Turkey are that bad this well researched report answers a lot of questions (if you have them,) and it's nice to know a rapist can no longer get out of his conviction by marrying his victim. But here's the thing, woman are still second class here. It is an insult to say someone is "like a woman." People are surprised when women do well. Technically they can become anything they want, but mostly they don't. There is sexism everywhere, and you know what? it's infectious. I feel like I need protecting here. Like I am vulnerable. I didn't in London, I did what I wanted, when I wanted. But here where the population is about 100th of London - I am scared. I don't go out by myself at night. Even during the day I don't answer the door when I am alone. In truth I have allowed myself to become more helpless. My husband and I have split the chores we do and none of mine are outside the house - I can live in a bubble if I want.
How did I get here... why do women allow themselves to be controlled, to stay when things are bad. If my husband turned suddenly violent I would leave him, and I would call his parents and they would be on my side. But I have options, I am financially independent. If he 'came back the next day' there are places I could run and hide, I could go to a completely different continent to him and never be heard from again if I wanted. Most of the other women, the one in three who experience domestic violence don't have these options. There is no nanny state to fall back on. Destitute is a real thing, and a mighty frightening thing to choose not just for yourself but yourself and your children. I guess in the end maybe a lot of times it is easier to choose to stay than to walk away and try and make a life alone.
UPDATE : the neighbours have moved out - their landlord didn't appreciate having his furniture smashed. Before they left the wife angrily confronted my husband wanting to know why he had called the police - "to stop you being killed" didn't seem to satisfy her as an answer.
I was surprised how little the baby cried.
A lot of ornaments were smashed on the floor above my head.
There was a lot of bashing and thumping. I'm reasonably sure he was slamming her against the wall.
The police arrived about ten minutes after we called them - they went up the stairs, spoke to the guy, and left five minutes later after giving him a warning for disturbing the peace.
The wife didn't want to report him. She did not want to be taken to the refuge.
I went to bed. Today their has been a lot of vacuuming.
I don't know what to think about this. I hate the guy. Hate him. How can he live with himself? How can he do this? I don't get it. I mean in a way I can imagine a couple getting in a huge fight and one of them going for the other - but this sounded more along the lines of a systematic beating. What the fuck - how does anyone have the mindset, the complete lack of control to do this? I know it happens a lot, but I don't think it's normal, and I don't see why it happens. It just shouldn't.
I feel like I should comment on why the woman didn't leave, what that means in respect to Turkey. First Turkey is big, what happens on one side of the country may be dealt with completely differently on the other side. So in my small corner of the country, oftentimes if the woman does report it, a common phenomenon seems to be the husband is arrested, gets out the next day, comes home and beats his wife worse. I've seen two local news stories recently, one about a foreign woman killed by her boyfriend, the other a father scared for his daughter's life begging the police to protect her. These stories and the 'One billion rising' movement which was well represented in my town, has been increasing pressure on the police to do something about domestic violence.
It's not like the laws in Turkey are that bad this well researched report answers a lot of questions (if you have them,) and it's nice to know a rapist can no longer get out of his conviction by marrying his victim. But here's the thing, woman are still second class here. It is an insult to say someone is "like a woman." People are surprised when women do well. Technically they can become anything they want, but mostly they don't. There is sexism everywhere, and you know what? it's infectious. I feel like I need protecting here. Like I am vulnerable. I didn't in London, I did what I wanted, when I wanted. But here where the population is about 100th of London - I am scared. I don't go out by myself at night. Even during the day I don't answer the door when I am alone. In truth I have allowed myself to become more helpless. My husband and I have split the chores we do and none of mine are outside the house - I can live in a bubble if I want.
How did I get here... why do women allow themselves to be controlled, to stay when things are bad. If my husband turned suddenly violent I would leave him, and I would call his parents and they would be on my side. But I have options, I am financially independent. If he 'came back the next day' there are places I could run and hide, I could go to a completely different continent to him and never be heard from again if I wanted. Most of the other women, the one in three who experience domestic violence don't have these options. There is no nanny state to fall back on. Destitute is a real thing, and a mighty frightening thing to choose not just for yourself but yourself and your children. I guess in the end maybe a lot of times it is easier to choose to stay than to walk away and try and make a life alone.
UPDATE : the neighbours have moved out - their landlord didn't appreciate having his furniture smashed. Before they left the wife angrily confronted my husband wanting to know why he had called the police - "to stop you being killed" didn't seem to satisfy her as an answer.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Adventure in the village no. 1
Today was a landmark day for me... finally, after six months living here, I
walked into the village and had a look at the shops by myself. It's not a long
walk. I have done it with the kids, I have driven through repeatedly. I have
occasionally been pulled into one store or another by my husband, whose style of
shopping is to hustle me into a place as fast as he can, show me what he has
found, half listen to my opinion on it, and then hustle me out again. I have
only been in the village grocery store once, and that was with both boys and my
husband, all hell-bent on running in different directions and all wanting to
hold my hand as they did so - if only I had three hands, detachable ones would
be perfect.
I have actually been putting this experience off for a long while. Empty shops intimidate me. Overly helpful shop assistants intimidate me. People looking, staring, and whispering about me makes me cringe. And they do, point and whisper that is. I am the foreignist foreigner around - six feet tall, blonde, lacking in a headscarf, lacking baggy floral trousers, I'm not from round here!
Whatever, that's the back story, the point is I did it, and I was mightily rewarded - turns out that because there are a high number of foreigners in our area (at least in the summer months) there are also lots of foreign goodies in the very rural looking shops. I found vicks vapour rub! For the uninitiated vicks is a weird menthol concoction that you rub on your chest when you have a cold. I actually can't remember missing vicks vapour rub even once over the last decade, but now I have a pot, and if I get a cold I can clean my sinuses in no time. Go me! I also found safety pins, which I never have enough of, elastic bands, birthday cake candles (you can get them anywhere, but these were really really cheap and came with a 'happy birthday' cake sign,) not-crazily-expensive roll on deodorant named after various random states of being - I really wanted 'Crazy' but the smell was such that you would have to be crazy to buy it, so in the end settled for 'Pretty' and 'Happy,' the second of which I was definitely feeling and the first I think my armpits will appreciate.
However, all these fabulous items paled into significance once I got to the DIY shop. Man that place is awesome. It doesn't have a great range of stock, but to make up for that they have made a shop window mannequin out of pipe and dressed it in their uniform (t-shirt, baseball cap.) The shop assistant is totally unconcerned, he offers to help you, then if you say no, he makes himself vanish. I don't know how he did that. The guy in the "cheap" (yes I mean those inverted commas, with spades on) shop was insane, he just never stopped talking, I don't know what he was saying. I can speak Turkish, I just can't speak speeding blur. Anyway, awesome-DIY-guy was there at the checkout but somehow he wasn't. He didn't seem to be watching me, or doing any kind of activity, or anything, but he was miraculously present when I wanted to know the price of my one fabulous purchase, which was.... wait for it...
I have actually been putting this experience off for a long while. Empty shops intimidate me. Overly helpful shop assistants intimidate me. People looking, staring, and whispering about me makes me cringe. And they do, point and whisper that is. I am the foreignist foreigner around - six feet tall, blonde, lacking in a headscarf, lacking baggy floral trousers, I'm not from round here!
Whatever, that's the back story, the point is I did it, and I was mightily rewarded - turns out that because there are a high number of foreigners in our area (at least in the summer months) there are also lots of foreign goodies in the very rural looking shops. I found vicks vapour rub! For the uninitiated vicks is a weird menthol concoction that you rub on your chest when you have a cold. I actually can't remember missing vicks vapour rub even once over the last decade, but now I have a pot, and if I get a cold I can clean my sinuses in no time. Go me! I also found safety pins, which I never have enough of, elastic bands, birthday cake candles (you can get them anywhere, but these were really really cheap and came with a 'happy birthday' cake sign,) not-crazily-expensive roll on deodorant named after various random states of being - I really wanted 'Crazy' but the smell was such that you would have to be crazy to buy it, so in the end settled for 'Pretty' and 'Happy,' the second of which I was definitely feeling and the first I think my armpits will appreciate.
However, all these fabulous items paled into significance once I got to the DIY shop. Man that place is awesome. It doesn't have a great range of stock, but to make up for that they have made a shop window mannequin out of pipe and dressed it in their uniform (t-shirt, baseball cap.) The shop assistant is totally unconcerned, he offers to help you, then if you say no, he makes himself vanish. I don't know how he did that. The guy in the "cheap" (yes I mean those inverted commas, with spades on) shop was insane, he just never stopped talking, I don't know what he was saying. I can speak Turkish, I just can't speak speeding blur. Anyway, awesome-DIY-guy was there at the checkout but somehow he wasn't. He didn't seem to be watching me, or doing any kind of activity, or anything, but he was miraculously present when I wanted to know the price of my one fabulous purchase, which was.... wait for it...
In case this is not
common vernacular where you are from, in the UK a muff is how teenage boys might
refer to the hair between a woman's legs. Or at least they used to. No idea now,
I don't know any teenage boys. As mine are both at school in Turkey I guess
they'll learn some random Turkish word to describe in, check back in 5 years
time and I'll let you know.
More exciting than the
name alone, are the 'using places...
...that's right this
little baby will keep lobster from coming out your drains. I cant tell you the
number of lobsters we've had in our bathroom. And I hate those bastard, snappy,
blue, crustaceans bleugh, never again, the muff matic and I will take you down.
Ha. Best three lira I've ever spent.
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