Chapter 5 : The World is small (a.k.a. "Our hearts are big")

You're on the town center, walking/riding around. Lots of people around. Your eyes which moves all the time like a radar, gets focused on a spot suddenly. You look at that spot for few seconds, then she turns her eyes back to you. You're both shocked a bit; you make some steps towards each other, then hugs with a big opened eyes.


That's your friend Marta (or Nada? 'cause they are twins. But then I realize, it's Marta) from Serbia, one of the people you've met in Czech Republic for the first time. And  now, this Serbian girl and Turkish boy meet in Sweden.


You can call it coincidence, luck or fate. You can even calculate the probability of such a thing taking the subjects' social networks size's into consideration. But wait a little more, before starting your calculations.


You start to talk. "What are you doing here!" is the first question ofcourse. You explain your reason to be there, and now it's her turn. She says she's here to learn swedish.


-But why? Why you want to learn swedish?
-Because I want to do my master here in Sweden next year.
-Oh I see. In which university?
-There is an university called SLU in Uppsala, do you know?


Some nasty smile in your face.


-Well, I know this university, yes. Tell me which program you want to study?
-Rural Development and Natural Resou...


"The nasty smile in your face" become "a nastier smile on your face".


-Well, that's what I'm doing now.


Now you have enough data to calculate the probability of that. That's an open call for everybody who call him/herself as a mathematician, statistics expert, or whatever the title is.


As the theme of today, I will give you some other data then. That's how I'm spending (generally) a week of mine here. Well, I'm planning to share this chart once a month, so I can go back and say to myself :

1. "Hehe, you see how it's changed?" or 
2. "Fck! It's my 2nd year and I'm still doing the same shit!" or 
3. "That's what I call stability, maann!" or 
4. "Girl, you know what? It was good in the beginning, better afterwards, and now it's perfect. 'Cause I found you. Come here and kiss me."

So, as you know, a week is consisted of 7 days. And a day is consisted of 24 hours. Which means that 
1 week = 168 hours


The question is how did I spend this 168 hours during september 2009.


The answer is :

• Sleeping                           : 50 hours (% 29,7)
• Surfing internet&Mails etc  : 20 hours (% 12)
• Classes in University         : 17 hours (% 10,1)
• Riding bike for travelling     : 15 hours (% 8,9)
• Friends & Going out          : 15 hours (% 8,9)
• Resting, eating, shower     : 15 hours (% 8,9)
• Study - Reading&Writing   : 10 hours (% 6)
• Climbing                          :  8 hours  (% 4,8)
• Other stuff                        :  6 hours (% 3,6)
• Looking for a flat to move   :  5 hours (% 3)
• Looking for a job               :  5 hours (% 3)
• Orienteering                     :  2 hour   (% 1,2)

Okay, I know it's shitty to make statistics like that. But still, it's fun. And it's good for all kind of retrospective self-evaluation. And some people may ask, "When do you think, calculate, plan, and blabla, then?" Well the answer is "All the time, while doing other stuff."

Lastly, but sadly for today, here is a guy worth to tell his name, to mention, to honor and to be proud of. Here is a guy hit by a car today. Here is a guy who's dead. Here is What happened (in turkish)

In the times like that, you feel a regret in your heart. You regret for having prejudgements like "he hates me", you ask yourself why you didn't start the conversation with a simple "hey dude" and why waited him to start talking first. And as the biggest pain, you know it's too late to ask these question now.

All you can do is to hope that he had a good, happy and smiling life. You just want to believe in it. And you think of his close friends, his family... It makes you feel sad, but it makes to understand, once again, the meaning of life.

Chapter 4 : A depressed soul and signs

Well, my friends... A man can not be joyful and cheerful all the time. Sometimes, few days with a dark hearth is needed perhaps. I have those circles, quite a lot. When I was a teenage, a good friend of mine at school was calling this mood of mine as "hitting trees while walking". It's true. Still now, sometimes I just don't want to raise my head up and smile. However, I don't hit trees anymore, I guess I gained the ability of "blind walking".

This time, it stroke me during the weekend, my 2nd weekend here in these cold&green lands. You know, once you start to feel bad, bad things just start to pour down from sky. They makes you feel even worse, which lead even more worse stuff to happen one after one. So, to get fucked up, all you need is a "strong initial bad thing" and a mood conjoncturally eager (maybe in need?) to feel bad.

I had my "quite strong initial bad thing". I had a really intense week in university, so friday evening would be kind of party and pub night. I tell you, it's not very easy when few people you know are out of city or staying at their homes. In those cases, if you feel really good, you can still try to just find a place and have fun, without thinking anything else. But if you already don't feel really good, then things can... Whatever, after a night there and there, I was, for a reason still unknown to me as usual, feeling not so "self-confident". But I was still okay. Saturday, I went to climb and then went back to my friends' home, waiting for a call for an already arranged night. The call never came. As an evidence of my maturity now, I stayed at home with friends and watched some movies, 'cause I knew that it would be a catastroph to go out with such a mood. Sunday, back to home after a climb again, I was wondering why she didn't call me at least to cancel the stuff, even after the complaining text I sent...

Sunday evening and monday... I was realizing that my e-mails were not getting answers nowadays neither. I started to feel like a piece of shit. Not even spam mails, WTF?!

In the most obscure depths, I decided to watch Dancing with wolves. Subtitles were problematic, but I still insisted on watching it. But the blow which took me away from this shitty mood came just in the midnight. I guess I was already ready to start to a new cycle, as usual. I knew it.

And then, this video came just in the perfect moment, not early, not late. As always. For the ones who're in the path, that's what happens all the time. After that, the girl sent me a message explained the situation, I had some replies to my e-mails, and other good stuff. You see, that's a circle.

By the way, to answer the questions asked (by myself) last week :

-No, I didn't find my soulmate yet. I guess so, atleast

-Well, it seems it's quite and partly true, the myths about Swedish girls. But I don't have enough data at the moment, so I prefer to postpone the answer.

-They don't. They don't run after you or your bike neither.

-I guess it happens quite fast, atleast for me. You don't forget ofcourse, but you loose your fluency on writing, but also on speaking. (Or maybe I was so good in turkish, that even a slight lost makes big difference for me.

-I don't have any hidden thoughts on my mind dude! Well, even if I have some, they're "hidden", you see?

Take care fellas, and don't forget to remember me

Chapter 3 : The Rusty...

...Bike!

We use that word quite often, without realising the importance of the thing which it names. Bike, actually, is one of the thing which determined the human history on this planet. History is nothing else but the witness of the bike and the changes it brought to humanity. It has been, in the same time, most effective and denied tool that anyone can use to reach the power. Our recent history is full of obvious examples. Positives and negatives ones.

Let's see the example of Hitler. As we all know, one of the main reason that Nazis have lost WWII is the decision of Hitler to reach south (Line Kiev-Leningrad) of USSR, to get the necessary oil for its panzers to move. And that delay costed the failure of German war machine. The military strategicians are still discussing if Hitler should directly move forward to Moscow or not. For that issue, I will save my opinion to myself. But let me say, it really suprises me the fact that nobody ask this question : "What if Nazis would have bikes, instead of panzers?" Bikes doesnt' need oil, therefore if Nazis would have bikes instead of panzers, they could easily capture Moscow, then Russia, then so on... You see, Hitler's choice on ignoring bikes did cost him a lot.

Now a positive example : You know China. That big country in Asia, being the most crowded country in the world. This country, for the last decade, is the brillant example of economical growth and wealth acquiring. Did you ever think why? Because they use bikes, a lot. That's their secret. If you're not convinced, let me remind you that India is another brillant developping country, and guess what : They also use bikes. And a lot.

Well, I can still imagine that some of yours are so stubborn that you have still some doubts. This following example will remove them all, don't worry. Let's forget all this historical stuff, economical growth or whatever, and let's focus on reality... On the most important things which determines our daily lives... You want real facts, here they are : How do you think that Swedish people are so beautiful?

Because they ride bikes! The undeniable high correlation between a)riding bike and b)being beautiful. That's proven in scientific ways. You can also take negative examples to cross-check. In that case you know where to go. (A short silence here, by author)

Yes, Swedish people ride bikes. Almost all of them. All around. The old lady, the young student dressed like a top-model, the businessman with its tie... All of them. Bikes are like ambulance or police cars here, they have high priority while crossing the street. They have their own roads, bridges, traffic lights...

The first day I came here, actually the morning after, I needed a bike for the reasons explained in Chapter 1. My landlord offered me his bike, 'cause he isn't using it. So, for the last 10 days I have been here, I'm going all the way between home and university + Uppsala by bike. It's 50 km. of bike ride per day. My ass is like steel now, but my balls aren't very happy on that situation. They complain quite frequently. I wanted to buy a second hand bike, a good one, to be able to do this stuff a bit easier + make some MTB in this green and heavenly town; but the prices are so high that I guess I will wait for some trip to Germany or Belgium to buy a brandnew one.

Well, I spend lot of quality time with my bike, yes, but it doesn't mean that it will be forever for sure. You can never know, yes; but still I dont' believe in relations between mens and bikes, I mostly believe in a voluntary freedom, you know... And the bike, yes, actually it's blonde as usual here, it makes some nice sound when you ride it, but its breaks doesnt work properly and it's a bit heavy; it's not my type I mean. So, I guess we will be together for a while still, but when I find a more beatiful one (lighter, can be blonde or dark - I dont care about the color a lot, with stronger breaks and also something with which I can also spend my weekends in forest for example), I will give it away and take the new one. We will see..

And check out the map above the page :

My house is on a bit south more, outside of picture.

The "i" is my university.

The redline is the road I use to get the university

The green thing written Klatter-... is the artificial wall I'm going to climb.

Next week on "Stay a while and listen" : Will Dudu find its soulmate on Swedish lands? It is true, the myth about Swedish girls? Does the dogs bites in Sweden? How many days you need to forget your motherlanguage when you're abroad? What's the hidden thoughts on Dudu's mind? All these important matters and more, next week on Stay a while and listen...

Chapter 2 : My First Friend

According to wiktionary, friend is :

"A person other than a family member, spouse or lover whose company one enjoys and towards whom one feels affection"

I'm not sure about whether that's right or not. But doesn't matter, I will call her as a "my first friend.",

Atleast "in my new university"...

and so excluding :

-my landlord and his friends,

-our master students coordinator,

-two teachers I've met,

-the american guy who said hello to me,

-some dozens of swedish people with whom we talked during various amounts of time following my questions such "Do you know where I can buy a mobile phone line?" or "Is that corner okay to piss?" and "Are you Swedish?" (I really don't know why I asked this, but yes, I did, and more then once)

[Wake up, boy! Don't let your tired eye lids to fall down and close your sight, which would lead you through sleep. ]

Okay then. It was noon; I had missed my class in the morning because of lack of an alarm clock...Wait, that's a funny story : I couldn't set my alarm clock on the phone 'cause it doesnt' work without a simcard. And that's something I didnt have until today afternoon. So I've set my computer's alarm clock and went to bed. In the morning, I woke up without the alarm, and call it "Being Jason Bourne" as my sister does or "Being a ranger" as I do or whatever; but in 2 seconds I understood that it was later than the time I should actually wake up. I checked my laptop and noticed that I had only 8 minutes until the beginning of the class. I thought, for a second, to run to school immeditely but then I remembered that I was living 20 km. away from it. In the end, I decided to enjoy the sleep a bit more.

So, yes, it was noon. I reached the student union building just right on time ('cause they work only 45 minutes per day) and so I was on the waiting line for the student card application. There were some guys talking about "Floorball" training. I asked what is it, and they told me something. Although, I still dont know what it does looks like.

But the girl who was standing in front of me, maybe encouraged with this stupid conversation of mine, asked me if it was the line for the application to student card. I said "I hope so, 'cause I'm here for the same reason as you're." After few minutes, we were having our coffees with some sandwiches impossible to be eaten without having fingertips full of mayoness (But it was delicious, I have to say) . I guess we were both happy to find some other new student who just arrived to Sweden as him/her. "That's how I have met my first friend in university, kids."

(Yeah, I admit it. I started to think of this deep voice which never shows his face on "How I met your mother", while I was in the middle of the sentence)

You know, life is though sometimes. Especially when you're awake at 5' o'clock of the morning with the supreme and sacred goal of finishing your first assignment at school; which came just in the second week of the studies accompanied by a reading list of 1.000 pages at total, and also which gives you a quite clear idea about your future for the next 2 years. I tell you, life is though, but still beautiful as usual, in those kind of times.

To be continued with Chapter 3 : The rusty ....

(This 3 points is for hiding and adding a mystery to the second word of the title, with the hope of creating a wave of global and even worldwide attention and interest on my blog. Wait for it... As the most used and effective expression method in crappy literatures, 3 points is the meaning of life, path to happiness and the light in the other side of the tunnel. It reveals what's hidden in the depths of darkness and hides what's in the middle of the most powerful brightness.... You see, I told you. It's best for crappy literature.)

Chapter 1 : My lucky day

-Filling a 60+10 standart outdoor bag for 22 kg with clothes, during the night before.

-Sleeping

-Waking up.

-Leaving home with family

-Paying a penalty fee for speed (with 104 km/h) in a highway.

-Taking the plane

-A hostess talking to people in swedish with begging eyes, me asking what, her saying that the plane can't take off if “one person don't change its seat”, me saying “Woow, that's ponctual!”, me accepting to change, them offering me a coffee for free with some sweets, having some talks, and them saying to me “Uppsala is very nice”, hostess girls being very beautiful.

Those are the stuff I had until I landed to Uppsala. And then it goes like this :

I took a train (from airport directly) which goes to Uppsala in 25 minutes, but which cost more then 20 €. Hopefully things are not expensive like that normally. When I get off in Uppsala, it began to rain. Well, 30 degrees of Istanbul in the morning, a welcoming rain in 15 degrees made me really smiling. I mean it, really.

I called Martin, my new landlord, in public phone. After 15 minutes, a guy in his 40's approached me with smiling eyes and a moustache like the ones of 1950's (you know, a thin just above the lips). He said, “It must be you.” Yes, it was me.

After buying some thai or chinese food, we took a bus, which was also very expensive to go home. Martin, my dear landlord, didn't let me to pay. In that moment, I was already making calculations on my mind, about how much money I could save if I never take the bus. Meanwhile, I learned that for that line, even for a student, monthly card would be about 60 €. Okay, no bus. Bicycle forever, as usual.

In the bus, he talked about himself. He arrived here 30-35 years ago, from Palestine, and to study. He had lot of differents studies and jobs, he's a kind of free man. I agree on that. He also told me that he was bored of waiting for me and decided to go home. He said “When my phone did ring with your call, I was just about putting my foot on the bus. You're lucky.” I smiled.

About how things happened about home : Actually, it was Martin who found my mail adress and sent me a very short e-mail like “call me...” Then we talked : His home was 15 km outside of Uppsala, a room was ready for me if I decide to come... I wasn't sure about what to do and was still hoping that I would get an offer (Swedish system : You register to a website and wait in the line to rent a room). No offer. So I was like “Okay, I go there, stay until I find a room, and then go.”

Now about home : It's a house big as an old 18th century aristocratie villa, inside a big garden, and surrounded with forest everywhere. A giant and very smart dog (german shepberd) is accompanying us. When I arrived, there were two guys (very good friends of my landlord), also in their 40's.; one finnish and one israelian. They come sometimes to rest for the weekend. We're on the same lifestyle. They're 40 ages version of our “deep green” generation. That's good. We talk, they give me very important advices about Sweden, like Mike (Israelian) saying “Sleep with as much as you can, and you will a lot; but never fall in love with a swedish girl. Never ever!” I answer : “Okay then, I tell you, if you see me someday, in love with a swedish girl, you just snab me in the face.” While Mike is laughing like an italian, Kay (Finnish) speak quite but smiling : “No, we just grab the girl.” I understand that I found the very best place possible for me in all Sweden.

I heard Martin saying that my room is ready. I unpacked my stuff, did some routine, and went to sleep. Well, I think I was smiling on my sleep. The dreams I had atleast... They should make me smiling.

Once upon a time...

So... Hello everyone!

Okay, okay; I know it's the most cliché expression anybody could use for a beginning of a blog. But as we all know (if you don't, learn it now), the hardest parts are the beginning and the ending, when you write down something. Your ideas and sentences, once you show them where to start, flows down the street.

Let me give you some answers for the questions that you would possibly ask, or even already asked maybe. First, this blog, as you can guess, will be about my travels, memories, places I see, people I meet.. blablabla; so “quite boring stuff” you can say. Will be boring really? Get rid of your prejudices. They kill you. Slowly. Like smoking. But narghile(a.k.a sisha&hookah) is okay, we all know that.

Second thing : The blog will be in english. Yes. Two main reasons. Bigger one : I dont want to exclude my friends who doesnt talk turkish from that big honor of reading and understanding the things I'm writing. Smaller one : “I write a lot already in turkish, and slightly less in english; so let's try that this time” I said to myself. Bonus reason : English is funny for those stuff. You know, for example, “How I met your mother” would be never so funny and good and perfect if it would be in french, to be honest. And relaxing point : My english level is just a bit higher then "Hello. I love you. Let's fuck." So it won't be a complicated english, I hope.

If you don't know me (which is not very possible, 'cause I guess it's not that kind of blog which would attract millions of people around the world), take a look in my profile. But I warn you. It's quite bullshit. How some people expect to know someone only over internet? It's possible, but possible as like there are still some people who thinks they never did and never will fall in love in their lifes. I tell you, it happens.

Okay then, enough bavardry. This beginning part will be followed by "Chapter 1 : My lucky day". I noticed just now, while writing these lines, that it sounds like some tv series' chapters. Well, I hope some clever holywood body would be creative and smart enough to offer me few million dolar check for the rights to make a tv series from the stories which will be told in this blog. Then I will have opportunity to say him/(preferrably) her something like “Go away, child of the satan. You and your television culture destroyed all we had once upon a time, as happy and satisfied people of this world. Take your poisonous box with you, and go away”. However, in the other hand, despite all, altough : I'm not sure if I would use that opportunity.