Déjà vu all over again

            Monday morning began quite well.  Ross and I took one last look at the view of Istanbul, drank one last glass of cherry juice/coffee, and ate one final meal at the hotel breakfast buffet.  Then we headed downstairs to catch our ride to the airport.  I was surprised that traffic flowed freely toward the airport during a Monday morning rush hour, so I guess Istanbul’s traffic isn’t too bad considering the size of the city.

            At the airport, Ross and I each checked into our flights, which departed within a half-hour of each other, to Chicago and Sarajevo respectively.  When I checked in, the woman at the counter asked me to weigh my carry-on.  It was a tiny bit over their 8kg limit, so she made me check my bag.  Well, I thought it’d be no problem, since I was on a direct flight that was scheduled for an on-time departure…

            I said goodbye to Ross when his flight left, and then went to my gate to board my own flight.  I was happy to be seated in a three-person row with nobody in the middle seat.  We took off on time, and I read, ate the vegetarian parts of the meal served, and played some games on my iPad.

            As we got near Sarajevo, I noticed that the “time until landing” on the TV screen above me kept increasing.  It seemed like we were just going in circles.  In fact, that was exactly what we were doing.  I guess the pilot was having a hard time landing, and in his frustration, was making his announcements only in Turkish, without giving the usual English translations.

            At one point, we were very close to landing.  In fact we were right above the Sarajevo airport, so close that I could see the cars and people below me.  There were a couple of bumps, but nothing abnormal.  Then, the pilot made one more announcement in Turkish, and everyone started to groan.  I got up and asked the flight attendant what was happening.  He informed me that the pilot couldn’t land due to the air around the Sarajevo airport, and we were flying back to Istanbul!  Ugh.  I had a great time there, but I was starting to look forward to getting back “home” to Sarajevo.

            When we got to the Istanbul airport, I found it very odd that the flight attendants played all of the recorded announcements like we were supposed to be arriving there.  “Welcome to Istanbul.  The current temperature is blah blah blah, we hope you enjoy your stay, please fly with us again soon.”  Well, I hope I will be flying again soon, I thought!  The flight attendants had no information about what we were supposed to do, so we headed back inside the airport concourse to see if anyone could help.

            After going up to the Turkish airlines transfer desk, everyone from the flight was instructed to meet at a specific gate for more information.  Soon a representative from BH Airlines came up, and began to make an announcement in Bosnian.  All of the Turkish people on my flight started yelling at him to speak in English, which I found to be unfair, since their airline had made all of the announcements only in Turkish.  He did in fact translate everything to English once he completed the announcement.  Basically, BH Airlines was going to try to take as many people as possible to Sarajevo in the evening, but did not have room for about half of our flight.  There was no information about how they would decide who would get to go.

            Of course, chaos ensued!  Everyone wanted to get to Sarajevo as soon as possible.  There was a giant mob of men pushing their way toward the desk at the gate and pestering the agents to get them on the flight.  (Well, actually most of the Turkish men were concerned about getting on the flight and most of the Bosnian men and women were concerned about finding a place to smoke while we waited for information.) 

I knew that there was no hope for me to get any attention, so I walked over to the BH Airlines transfer desk, and talked to the guys who worked there.  I told them how much I needed to get on the flight, in order to be back on Tuesday to play my solos with the orchestra.  I also told them that I was traveling alone with nowhere to stay overnight if I get stuck.  They kept responding to me in Bosnian, and I had to keep reminding them I didn’t speak very much of the language.  “I’m sorry, it’s because you look so much like Bosnian girl” one of them kept replying.  I’ll take that as a compliment, because most Bosnian women are very pretty. J

After a while, I returned to the mob scene and waited it out.  Eventually, I noticed that one of the guys I talked to from BH Airlines had come over.  I handed him my ticket stub, and he called in my information so I could get on the evening flight.  Success!  In fact, I was the first name to be called when they listed who would get on.  I felt very crafty…

Once I got my ticket for the evening flight, I went to eat some dinner, and do a little window-shopping until it was time to go. Flying the same flight twice in one day was pretty weird—I kept having feelings of Déjà vu.  The BH flight landed in Sarajevo just fine. I’ve been told several times that there are some tricks for dealing with the weird air-pressure of the valley, and that Bosnian pilots are the best at landing here.  I felt so relieved once we hit the ground.  Everyone on the plane applauded!

After I got off the plane and went through passport control, I started to wait for my bag.  I waited and waited, but it never came.  I started to panic as I realized that my music for the next morning’s rehearsal was in the bag.  Fortunately, all of the pieces were in the public domain.  I called Sara, and she reassured me that I could download everything online.

I was so tired and a little bit angry that my bag was lost.  I waited a little longer, and then went to the lost baggage office.  The people working at this office were so friendly and helpful that I found it impossible to remain upset.  They filed a report, and reassured me that they would find my bag and have it delivered to my home or place of work.

When I finally got home, Sara greeted me with a nice big bowl of homemade chili and some chocolate chip cookies.  It was the perfect way to unwind after my trip.  I went online to see if there was anything else I could do to find my baggage, and was very amused by the “Lost Your Baggage” article on the Sarajevo Airport’s website.  It’s so cute in its sincerity and vivid descriptiveness that I think I’ll end this post with a quote from it.  (I did eventually get my bag.  The Tuesday flight from Istanbul was cancelled, so I got it two days after my arrival in Sarajevo.  I was so relieved when it came…I was getting a little grungy without my hairbrush, clean pants, or deodorant.)

If you are a frequent flyer, you have probably experienced that unpleasant anger you feel each time you stare at the conveyor belt, hopping nervously and looking enviously at a fellow passenger who has already picked up his luggage. A number of bags on the conveyor is getting less, the crowd around the belt is leaving and you desperately face the fact that your luggage is lost. If you are of bad luck, one voyage is more than enough to experience something like that. 
You wonder what to do.  

Istanbul Day 4

            Sunday was our last day in Istanbul, and we wanted to see a couple of more sights while still having time to relax a bit.  After breakfast, I took a morning nap (morning naps are the best) and Ross took a walk to find a good restaurant for dinner reservations.  He found a really neat neighborhood just beyond the Blue Mosque with lots of good restaurants and cafes, so after I woke up, he showed me the neighborhood before we headed over to the Blue Mosque.

Ross discovers a nice neighborhood, good restaurants, and very unique people!

            At the Blue Mosque, it was prayer time (it came a bit earlier than I expected) so we decided to visit the nearby Basilica Cistern and then come back after lunch.  I didn’t expect much from the Basilica Cistern since it didn’t look very interesting in our guidebook, but it was actually quite fascinating.  The cistern was built in the Justinian Era, in the 6^th century, and held the water system for a large portion of the old city.  It is kind of spooky, with an odd mishmash of mismatched columns, including two decorated by Medusa heads.  The entire underground cavern, with the exception of a few raised platforms for walking, is filled with a shallow pool of water.  Upon closer inspection, I was surprised to find goldfish swimming around!

Upside-down Medusa head in the Basilica Cistern

Goldfish in the Basilica Cistern

            Ross and I had trouble capturing very much of the cistern in photographs, because it was so dark.  So after a walking around, we ascended back to ground level, and headed out for lunch.  I had become such a fan of mezes that I had another mixed meze plate for lunch, while Ross ordered a "real" main dish.  It seemed pretty warm, so we sat outside.  After sitting in the chilly wind for a few minutes, we realized that it really wasn’t so warm after all, so we ate quickly and headed back to the Blue Mosque.

A little too dark to photograph the cistern columns

Just outside the Blue Mosque

            The Blue Mosque was especially beautiful because it was a sunny day, and the bright light poured in through the stained glass windows.  The mosque looks quite large from the outside, but seems even more humongous when you go in.  Like most of the beautiful buildings we saw in Istanbul, large portions of the interior were covered with blue Iznik tiles (hence the name), and I quietly admired my surroundings before we exited.

Looking up in the Blue Mosque

Sunlight coming through the stained glass

            Our last sightseeing stop was the Architecture Museum nearby the Topkapi Palace.  There seemed to be an endless number of ancient sarcophagi: room after room filled with them, and some even open to display the preserved bones found inside.  There were also pieces from the ruins of ancient cities that had be excavated throughout Istanbul.  On the upper two levels were various artifacts from Turkey and other parts of the Middle East, mostly from the Bronze Age.  I have old childhood books, toys, clothes, etc, from the mid-90s that are starting to dissolve, so I cannot believe that some things have been preserved for so many thousands of years!

Ross and I were happy to find Bronze Age Yahtzee

The Architecture Museum Entrance

One of the many ancient Sarcophagi

            For our last evening in Istanbul, Ross made reservations at a restaurant called Metropolis that had particularly good reviews online.  Metropolis is also the name of one of my favorite restaurants in Sarajevo, so I found it fitting.  I think Ross had a lamb dish, while I had some grilled vegetables in a curry sauce.  The flavors were so complex and delicious that I can’t even begin to guess what spices were in my dish.  In terms of the food, it was the best meal I ate during the whole trip to Istanbul, and I think maybe even the best meal I’ve had in Europe.  The only thing I didn’t like is that they put us at a four-person table, with another couple sitting at the other half.  I found it pretty awkward to be in such close quarters with strangers, especially because they could understand us while we couldn’t understand them. (I think they were from Northern Europe, but I couldn’t tell what language they spoke.) 

            Sunday night was a little bit sad, because saying goodbye to Ross, and not seeing him for 6 weeks, was imminent.  I really miss having him around all of the time, especially right after I see him for a few days and am reminded of how much he makes me laugh.  However, I tried to enjoy the moment, and we still had a final breakfast with a rooftop view to look forward to.

Istanbul Day 3

         On my first morning in Istanbul, I was so tired that I managed to sleep through it, but every other morning I was awakened by the calls to prayer that start around 5am and last nearly one hour.  I am used to hearing the call to prayer as I walk around Otes, but I can’t hear anything from my room, so I had never heard the early morning one before.  Though Ross and I were awakened so early, we went back to sleep for a bit before getting started with our day.

            I was happy that Saturday and Sunday provided warmer, sunnier weather.  Because it was nice outside, Ross and I decided to spend Saturday walking around the city, beyond our Sultanahmet neighborhood.  Our first stop was the Grand Bazaar and neighboring book bazaar.  I was actually nervous and a bit intimidated by the prospect of having to barter for whatever I wanted to buy. As we weaved around the bazaar, nothing really caught my eye as especially unique and still affordable.  I kind of wanted to find something beside the typical evil eye souvenirs.

            Just as we were about the leave the bazaar empty handed, I spotted a small shop on the corner that sold musical instruments.  There was a little yellow and red oboe sitting on one of the shelves!  As I began to bargain with the shopkeeper, he told me I should pay more because, “It has a reed.  Reeds are very difficult to make.”  Tell me about it. J  Anyway, I got the price down to about 5 euros and am now the proud owner of an awesome yellow and red polka dot oboe that plays about three notes.

Buying an "oboe" at the Grand Bazaar

            After leaving the Grand Bazaar, Ross and I headed toward the Golden Horn to find the Rustem Pasha Mosque and the Spice Bazaar.  My friend Emma had told me to visit the Rustem Pasha because, even though it’s small, it is completely covered with Iznik tiles inside and is very beautiful.  As we walked, Ross and I passed an area that was less touristy than Sultanahmet.  I enjoyed seeing locals out shopping and found it interesting that each area of shops seemed to be devoted to something specific: the kitchenware street, the toy store block, the music store neighborhood.  This layout is to the shoppers’ advantage because it makes it very easy to compare one store’s prices to the next.  Eventually, Ross and I hit the shore of the Golden Horn and wandered around for a few minutes until we found the Rustem Pasha.  There are so many enormous mosques in the area that it took a few tries until we found the right one.

I had never been inside a mosque before, but at least knew a few of the basic expectations: to wear something to cover my head, to remove my shoes, to be quiet and respectful of those praying.  However, I didn’t know that I was supposed to remove my shoes and pull up my hood before stepping on the rug in front of the entrance, (I also failed to notice the giant sign asking everyone to do so) and felt terrible when I had to be corrected.  At least it was an honest mistake.  The inside of the Rustem Pasha Mosque was indeed extremely beautiful.  I was amazed that the very detailed floral patterns on the tiles were perfectly aligned so that the flower beginning on one tile perfectly connected to its other half on the next.

Interior of the Rustem Pasha Mosque

            The Rustem Pasha is located extremely close to Istanbul’s Spice Bazaar, so we went there directly after exiting the mosque.  I liked the Spice Bazaar better than the Grand Bazaar, so I guess I am more interested in food than in trinkets.  There were big bags of spices everywhere, as well as nuts, dried fruit, and sweets.  It smelled so good!

            By contrast, our next stop was the Galata Bridge, which smelled like dead fish and car exhaust.  However, the view from the bridge was spectacular, and I enjoyed watching all of the fishermen standing along the edge of the upper level.  Once we got across the bridge, we kept walking straight ahead toward the Galata Tower, and eventually a famous street/shopping area called Istiqlal Caddesi (pronounced Jaddesi).  Ross and I hadn’t intended to go see the Galata Tower, but it just so happened that we passed it.  It was the tallest structure in Istanbul when it was built, and was kind of a neat sight to see.  There was a big line to get inside though, so we decided to keep going toward the Istiqlal Caddesi instead of trying to go in.

Galata Bridge

Galata Tower

            Walking along the Istiqlal Caddesi was one of my favorite parts of visiting Istanbul.  It is a very wide brick street, with a tram running down the middle, almost no auto traffic, and tons of pedestrians.  Western-style shops and restaurants line both sides.  I had read some positive reviews of a restaurant/bookstore called Ada Café, so when we passed it, we went inside for lunch.  We both though the food was pretty good, but nothing special.  However, all of their coffee drinks looked incredibly complex and delicious, and they had quite a good selection of English language books.

Istiqlal Caddesi

            We continued up Istiqlal Cadessi after lunch until we arrived at our final destination for the day, Taksim Square.  It was incredibly crowded, surrounded by cars weaving through what seemed to be a very complex and confusing maze of streets and intersections.  In the middle of the square is a large monument featuring Ataturk, in commemoration of the formation of the republic.  Ross and I posed for a couple of pictures before starting our trek back toward the hotel.  Taksim Square is a major mass transit hub, so we could have caught a train or bus back, but it was so nice out that we decided to walk.

Ross in Taksim Square

            On the way back toward the hotel, we made two more small detours, one for coffee and dessert, and one to explore the lower level of the Galata Bridge.  At the café, we picked a dessert we had never heard of before, which turned out to be delicious custard spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.  I wish I could remember what it was called, but alas.  The lower level of the bridge contained numerous fish restaurants, each one with a representative vying for our business.  Of course we were very full from lunch and dessert, and didn’t really appreciate the aggressive sales tactics, so once we found some stairs, we ascended to the more peaceful upper level.

            Coming back along the bridge, we faced Bazaar Quarter and Sultanahmet.  I was struck by the number, size, and beauty of all of the mosques in these neighborhoods.  Having so many domed structures, punctuated by the tall and slender minarets, makes the skyline of Istanbul stand apart from all of the other city skylines I’ve seen.

View of the New Mosque on the Galata Bridge

            After walking for nearly six hours on Saturday, Ross and I were pretty beat.  We spend the evening relaxing in the hotel, and had dinner in the hotel restaurant one more time.  I wasn’t very hungry, so I just ordered a cheese plate off the appetizer menu.  Whoops, it turned out to be huge, but all of the cheeses (a mix of both traditional Turkish cheeses and Western European cheeses) were so delicious that I wound up eating the whole thing.  Ross was very happy with his meatball dish, so we both left the restaurant very full, sleepy, and satisfied with another excellent day in Istanbul.

Istanbul Day 2

The first thing we did every morning in Istanbul was enjoy the breakfast buffet at our hotel. It was quite a spread, with several hot dishes, soup, lots of cheeses and cold cuts, vegetables, fruits, cereals and breads. My favorite things were the cherry juice, which I'd never had before, and the simit. Simit is a Turkish food usually sold on the street, and it looks and tastes very similar to a sesame seed bagel.

The best part of breakfast wasn't the food, but the view! The buffet was served in the hotel restaurant on the top floor. There were huge glass windows overlooking the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia. It kept getting better and better every day, as the weather got progressively sunnier throughout our trip.  We lingered quite a long time at the breakfast the first morning, and didn't head out until about 11. Our first destination was the Hagia Sophia.

View of the Blue Mosque from the Hotel Restaurant

Standing on the Hotel Restaurant balcony. Hagia Sophia in the background.

            The Hagia Sophia was originally a church built in the 4^th century, later a mosque, and finally a museum.  It is an immense structure, and famous for its massive dome.  Its size is breathtaking, and impossible to represent in pictures. (Ross could barely get a picture of me on the ground floor and still capture part of the ceiling.)  However, to me, the most interesting thing about the Hagia Sophia was the intricacy, quantity, and diversity of the artwork inside.  From the huge painted angels lining the four corners, to the Iznik tiles, to the golden mosaics, I was overwhelmed by how much there was to see.  We tried to at least get a general sense of everything inside by slowly making our way around all sides of the ground floor followed by the upper gallery.

On the ground floor of the Hagia Sophia

One of the four angels

Iznik Tiles in the Hagia Sophia

Ross and I in the upper gallery of the Hagia Sophia

One of the many mosaics in the Hagia Sophia

After exploring the Hagia Sophia, we stopped for a short coffee break.  Ross and I both ordered Turkish coffee as well as some Baklava.  I had never had Turkish coffee before, although I’ve had plenty of Bosnian coffee.  I’ve been told that Turkish coffee and Bosnian coffee are the same, but also I’ve heard the argument that they aren’t really exactly the same.  From my personal experience, Bosnian and Turkish coffee are quite similar, but Bosnian coffee is somehow a bit fluffier.  Regardless, the Turkish coffee really hit the spot, and gave me just enough energy to go back into the cold (Friday was a bit chilly) and continue our sightseeing.

Enjoying Turkish Coffee and Baklava

Next we headed down to the Topkapi Palace. I didn't know very much about Istanbul until just recently, so I hadn't even heard of the Topkapi Palace until a couple of my friends recommended that I got see it. I still cannot believe how large and beautiful it is, and how many interesting and valuable things are inside.

Entrance to the Topkapi Palace: The Sultan's Gate

Being greeted by my new friend at the gate

After entering the Sultan’s Gate, the Topkapi Palace is basically built around two courtyards, an outer one and an inner one.  Ross and I walked around half of the outer courtyard first, and then went in.  The numerous structures surrounding the inner courtyard are filled with objects that showcase the immense wealth Ottoman Sultans: elaborate clothing, swords, thrones, and jewels (including an 86 carat diamond).  One of the most beautiful rooms, the “circumcision room”, didn’t contain any artifact, but was lined by extremely bright blue and green patterned tiles (Iznik tiles).

The outer courtyard of the Topkapi Palace

Ross in the inner courtyard of the Topkapi Palace

View of the Bosphorus from the Topkapi Palace

The circumcision room

Colorful tiles and paint decorating the Topkapi Palace

We spent a long time admiring all of the exhibitions, and it was kind of cold, so I got a bit chilled.  Fortunately, there is a great restaurant inside the Topkapi Palace museum, with a nice view of the Bosphorus.  I warmed up with some Turkish tea, and split a plate of “mezes” with Ross.  Mezes reminds me very much of Tapas, small bits of food meant to be enjoyed at a leisurely pace, usually in the late afternoon.  Most of the dishes are vegetarian, including a cold mashed tomato paste, eggplant in olive oil, grape leaves stuffed with rice, and cheese.  So, I ate well in Istanbul. J

We finished up exploring the Topkapi Palace late Friday afternoon, and then headed back to the hotel to relax.  It was nice to be inside a nice warm building after being out all day.  Because the breakfast was so good, Ross and I opted to just go up to the hotel restaurant for dinner.  We admired the night view, with the Blue Mosque beautifully lit up.  We also tried an alcoholic drink called “raki” for the first time.  I expected raki to be like Bosnian “rakija”, a potent clear liquid that can be made of almost any kind of fruit.  However, Turkish raki is served with ice water, and it “magically” turns white as soon as the water is added. (I guess there’s some interesting science behind that, but I don’t know it.)  It is a bit sweet, and anise flavored.  I would highly recommend it to all the black licorice fans out there.  It didn’t seem quite as strong as rakija, and was all in all, a great way to unwind at the end of the day.

Raki and some pre-dinner mezes at the hotel restaurant

Hotel Balcony at night. Hagia Sophia on the left and Blue Mosque on the right.

Because I don’t know very much about Istanbul, the history of the Byzantine and Ottoman empires, or the Muslim religion, I learned so much on Friday’s sight-seeing expeditions.  I tried to look up a little bit of information beforehand, but seeing the Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace inspired me to find out even more information about their history.  It sounds nerdy, but it really is so much more fun when you can visit places that “make history come alive”.

Istanbul Day 1

I am very, very behind with my blogging!  Between trying to see all the sights in Istanbul, spending time with Ross, and having a complicated trip home, I never had time to post anything.  I have started writing though, so here’s my account of my first day in Istanbul.

Thursday:

The flight from Sarajevo to Istanbul was a breeze. (Not as much on the way home.  More on that later.)  It only took about 90 minutes.  And in a time when airlines in the US are cutting back/charging for every tiny amenity, I really appreciated my complementary headphones, TV, music, half-liter bottle of sparking water, and lunch.

I was a little bit nervous about finding Ross in the Istanbul airport.  Neither of us had cell phones, so we planned to meet near my baggage claim.  As soon as I landed in Istanbul I realized that the airport was even bigger than I expected.  We exited the plane early and got onto a shuttle bus, but wound up sitting on the bus for 45 minutes waiting for other plane traffic to clear out.  By the time I got to baggage claim, Ross wasn't there and I was worried he left for the hotel without me.  Fortunately, I have a patient husband, and I saw him as soon as I cleared customs.  We found our driver and headed for the hotel. (Our hotel sent a driver to pick us up for free!  This is a great perk when arriving in an unfamiliar city where you don't speak the language.)

As our driver took us to the hotel, we wound through our neighborhood, called Sultanahmet.  It is a great neighborhood because of the proximity to all of the most famous landmarks.  Before we even got to the hotel we saw the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, and the Grand Bazaar!  It sounds strange, but all of the windy, hilly, cobblestone streets reminded me of San Francisco.

Even though I was a little bit tired, both of us were feeling excited and adventuresome, so we decided to go outside and wander around for a bit after checking in.  Ross has a good intuition, so we wove our way around a few streets until we hit one of the main streets that leads directly to all of the famous sights. (Not to mention a McDonald's and a Starbucks.  I can't believe that these chains are so popular.)  I was happy knowing that we wouldn't get lost when we went touring the next morning.

Though it was quite cold, rainy, and a weeknight, the streets were still full of people buying and selling everything from chestnuts to bottle of water to souvenirs.  As soon and Ross and I thought about stopping for dinner and slowed our pace a bit, we began to be heckled outside every single restaurant.  There was a man standing in front of each one, holding a menu and explaining why his restaurant was the best one. (e.g. we have a fireplace, we have a dining room with a view upstairs, we have complementary coffee and tea, etc.)  Most of these guys didn't bother me, but some were a bit too aggressive for my taste.  I'd been warned that I would be dealing with some aggressive salesmen if I visited the Bazaars, but I wasn't ready for the restaurant promoters.  I'd have preferred to have a moment or two to look in the window and glance at the menu in peace.

After going a couple blocks, we found a restaurant that looked quite comfortable, with reasonable prices and a good-sized vegetarian menu.  We were sold, so we went on in.  I had some grilled vegetables, which went perfectly with the rice and sour yogurt that was also served on my plate.  Ross had a chicken dish.  We also got an appetizer called “borek”, to compare to Bosnian “burek”.  Turkish “borek” are small pieces of pastry dough, usually stuffed with cheese.  Bosnian “burek” is also stuffed pastry dough, which Bosnian’s call “pitta”.  However, Bosnian “pitta” is usually shaped into a large round spiral, and the name “burek” almost always indicates that the dough is stuffed with meat.  (The cheese-stuffed pasty is called “sirnica”.)

            After dinner, we were tempted to explore the neighborhood a bit more, but were pretty sleepy from our travels.  We picked up a bottle of wine from a small market and went back to the hotel to relax, sleep, and save up energy for Friday’s trips to the Hagia Sophia and Topkapi Palace.

Day at the Zoo

           I had Monday off this week, so I went to Sarajevo Zoo with my roommate Sara and my friend Adi.  I don’t usually think of going to the zoo as a normal wintertime activity, but we went to see a special exhibition with life-sized dinosaur (and other pre-historic animal) sculptures. So, we got in touch with our inner-5-year-old and checked out the dinosaurs.  I really did feel like a child again because all of the labels were in Bosnian, and I couldn’t read them very well!  Adi translated some of them, but I kind of liked just enjoying the exhibit without having to read anything. (I have a tendency to spend 50% of my time at museums reading about the exhibits rather than looking at them.)

Feeding our new pet stegasaurus

            I think the best part of the dinosaur exhibition was the fact that the sculptures were life-sized, so you could get a great perspective of the size of the animals.

            We posed for lots of pictures.

            Of course, what would a trip to the zoo be without seeing some live animals as well?  After making our way past all of the sculptures, we wandered back to the terrarium to see turtles, monkeys, a caiman, and a snake. 

Majmun/Monkey

We also went to see if any of the other animals were outside, and surprisingly, many of them were doing just fine in all of the snow.  Most of the animals were “farm animals”: goats, donkeys, bison, ponies, llamas, and hens.

Llamas

The highlight of the trip for me was the donkeys.  For some reason, I have a special place in my heart for them, haha.  It was hard to see them, so I jumped up on a ledge of snow to get a better look.  I must have surprised one of the donkeys, because he got a bit excited when he saw me, and started carrying on.  “Hee-haw, hee-haw” for a good full minute!  My roommate wanted to make a video, but unfortunately, he stopped by the time she got the camera ready.

Mr. Hee-Haw

Monday wound up being an eventful day not only because we went to the zoo, but also because Sara and I had the worst luck ever getting back to Otes.  I don’t want to be whiny, but I think that the story of our Monday afternoon commute is a classic example of one of those days when nothing goes your way.  It’s very tiring at the time, but rather funny when you look back on it.

We tried to leave the city center via tram a little bit after 3pm.  We saw the trains running as we were leaving, but by the time we got to the stop, no trams were working.  We waited 15 minutes, and then tried another stop.  Still no luck.  I suggested getting a cab, but there were probably 50 people trying to do the same thing, and all of the cabs were full.  We tried walking toward Bascarsija, but still couldn’t flag a taxi. Grrr.

So, Sara suggested that we get a coffee and try again one hour later.  I said “forget coffee, let’s get a beer”.  Why not?  So we went to a nearby pub, had a beer, and by the time we finished, the tram was working again.  Hooray!

            Of course, the tram was incredibly crowded because of the delay.  I was so thankful that I didn’t have my instrument with me.  I found a nice little corner to stand in so that I didn’t get too pushed around.  We very slowly headed toward Ilidza, until we got about 3 stops away.  Then the power went out.  Ack!

            If the tram had broken down anywhere else, it would have been better, but it broke down right along a busy street with no sidewalks or open cafes.  We were pretty close to Ilidza, so Sara and I tried walking.  But walking along the side of the highway at dusk is not the safest thing, and we wisely decided to stand up on a curb and figure out another solution.

            The entire tram’s worth of people were trying to call and flag taxis.  None of the cabs would stop, I think because the drivers can only make a few marks between where we were stranded and Ilidza.  I called almost everyone I knew to ask if they had a taxi driver friend who would come for us.  Alas, we didn’t get any reasonable offers (though someone offered to take us the one or two kilometers for 50 marks!)

            After standing around for about a half hour, a white bus pulled up and a bunch of people started to squeeze on.  Sara and I had no idea where this bus was going, but it was going in the right direction, and I figured that anywhere was better than along a busy road with no sidewalk.  I was relieved to hear some people say, “do Ilidze” as we were boarding.  Fortunately, the bus did indeed stop in Ilidza, and we didn’t get in trouble or have to pay for boarding it.  Normally, the walk from Ilidza to Otes seems like a bit of a hike in the snow, but in this case we were so happy to be back in familiar territory that it felt like a breeze.  I collapsed on the couch in our apartment with relief around 7pm.  I’m glad it doesn’t usually take 4 hours to commute home!

            Tomorrow, I leave for Istanbul, where I am meeting Ross for a little 4-day vacation!  I can’t wait to describe the city, and post pictures for you readers, so stay tuned.

*Photos courtesy of Sara.  Thanks Sara!

Grover Schiltz

           On Friday, I received the sad news that my former oboe teacher passed away.  He was not only a teacher for me, but also a role model, and even a friend, despite our 50-something year age difference.  I was really looking forward to contacting him when I got back to the US, and sharing stories about my experiences in Sarajevo.

            I want to write this short blog post about Grover because he was such a great example of how a hard-working classical musician can still have a well-balanced life that is full of adventure.  Grover Schiltz played oboe and English horn in the Chicago Symphony for about 45 years.  (He can be heard on dozens of recordings of the orchestra made between about 1960 and 2005.)  When Grover began playing in the CSO, the orchestra had short seasons and paid very little, so he and his wife ran a dog kennel to supplement their income.  In the meantime, Grover was an active supporter of the American musicians’ unions that eventually succeeded in improving the working conditions, audition process, and compensation for professional orchestral musicians.

            The Chicago Symphony is one of the best orchestras in the world, and its musicians are constantly pressured to meet the highest standards in their field.  Despite this, Grover never gave up his passions and hobbies, and maintained a great sense of humor.  I had so many fascinating conversations with him about cooking, wine, oriental rugs, travel, dogs…  He was so passionate about collecting rugs that he and his wife recently traveled to Romania just to see them, learn about them, and purchase one or two to bring back home.

            As a teacher, Grover was extremely honest but never discouraging.  He often would have frank discussions with me about how being a professional musician can be difficult.  However, I also felt like he had faith in my abilities, and I got the message that if I was hard-working, patient, and entrepreneurial, I could find my place in the music world.  I’m not sure that I would still be a musician today if I hadn’t had supportive yet realistic guidance during such a critical point in my education.

            It is hard for me to believe that I studied with Grover for only two years, because I feel like I made about five years of progress under his tutelage.  He taught me to break down a phrase note-by-note and ensure that my vibrato, intonation, and tone color always progressed logically and musically.  If I didn’t play something well, he would do humorous, and maybe slightly cruel imitations of how I sounded.  I think he knew that I wasn’t overly sensitive, and I didn’t take the imitations too personally.  I liked that Grover always held me to the highest of standards, no matter the technically difficulty of what I chose to play for him.

            Grover was incredibly open-minded.  He was always experimenting and trying to improve his playing and reed making, even during retirement.  I was sometimes afraid to try a new instrument, type of cane, or shaper tip, but Grover convinced me that a little experimentation can only lead to improvement.  After all, there is no reason to play a Loree oboe just because everyone you know plays one. (And yes, I still play a Loree oboe, haha.)  I really admire that Grover continuously tried to learn new things and improve, even at the very end of his career.

            So, yes, I miss my teacher already, and will be thinking of him throughout the rest of my time in Sarajevo.  I hope that I can honor his memory by being a conscientious musician, an honest yet supportive teacher, an adventurous tourist, an avid learner, and of course a kind and accepting friend.

Self-Doubt

          I am feeling very humbled tonight after listening to a short recording of myself from about one year ago.  I was pretty proud of it at the time.  In fact, I used it to get my current job in the Sarajevo Philharmonic!  Now this recording sounds absolutely terrible to me.  I hear so many lumps and bumps in my playing.  Ugh.

            I’m surprised that my perception of my playing has changed so much.  I thought that after starting to play professionally, I would feel more confident.  It’s true that I am proud of all that I’ve accomplished, but I am realizing more and more how far I am from playing as well as my mentors and idols.

            I also wonder whether and how I am improving from my experiences here.  (As an oboist.  In other ways, I feel reassured that I am growing quite a lot.)  Since arriving in Sarajevo, I am often forced to learn music very quickly, and play through pieces without doing much analysis. Also, it is my first year of not having regular lessons, so I have to make decisions on my own, rather than consulting with my teacher.  I’m sure that I am learning from playing a lot of repertoire and having to be completely independent.  However, I don’t want to become thoughtless or arrogant just because I’m not consistently being critiqued.

            I am bothered by my recording partially because it sounds rather disjointed.  I play each note and phrase in the way that I’ve been taught, but they don’t sound connected to each other.  I try to play with perfect intonation and rhythm.  My phrasing and articulation are dictated solely by what is printed and what my teachers have told me to do.  As a result, my playing sounds very heavy and unoriginal.  I am perplexed…how do I balance “correctness” and “creativity”?  It is often hard to play “originally” without sounding bizarre.

            Of course, feeling dissatisfied with my oboe playing leads to a more general sense of self-doubt.  Do I really have what it takes to succeed in a field that is so competitive?  It’s one thing to be mediocre in a field in which competence is all that is required to make a living.  It is another thing to be merely satisfactory in a field where 99 out of 100 people fail to find work.  I think most people who believe that they can have careers in top American orchestras are delusional.  How can I avoid being delusional without being defeatist? 

            At least I am comforted by the fact that all of my hard work on the oboe has led to an amazing opportunity to move across the world, see new places, and meet new people.  Whether or not being a professional oboist is my lifetime career, I won’t regret the time and effort I’ve put into my training.  Also, living in Sarajevo has reminded me that we make music in order to enjoy it.  It is not life or death.  If I don’t play well, I may feel disappointed in myself, and I may even disappoint my colleagues or my teachers, but I can always try to do better the next time.

After the Storm

Of course, Sarajevo is still recovering from the storm, and will continue to do so for quite some time.  I’m hoping that it doesn’t get suddenly warm, or else there will be some massive puddles!

Along the road in Otes

Rather than canceling our concert this week, the administration decided to postpone it by two days.  So I’ve had yesterday and today off, but we go back to rehearsal starting tomorrow.  We’re going to play Rhapsody in Blue and Mendelssohn 1, a very unique program.  I’m looking forward to getting back to work, and am very glad that “the show will go on.”  However, the tram is still not running all the way to Ilidza, so we’ll have quite a long commute tomorrow, going first by foot, then bus, and then tram.

I walked from Otes into Ilidza on Sunday and yesterday to take pictures and buy some groceries.  On Sunday, there were very narrow pathways that made it possible to walk, but still difficult to drive.  By Monday, most of the major roads had been cleared, both by shoveling and by bulldozers.  Now the snow banks are almost twice as tall as me!

Ilidza on Sunday

When I went into Ilidza yesterday, I walked with my roommate Sara, and met up with our friends Ingrid and Mattia.  We had some coffee and it felt so good to get out of the apartment and socialize.  On the way back we had a little bit of a snow fight. J  It’s funny how massive snowstorms tend to bring out the kid in everybody.