Yoga sucks but it also kind of rules

(These are the three main teachers and the founders of my studio)

I used to think I had done bikram yoga. I was an idiot.

I recently had my first, actual bikram class. I think I died a few times during the workout. I want to chronicle how unbelievably hard and painful it was so I don't ever start deluding myself into thinking the last time I got in shape, it happened overnight by magic.

The first time I came to Turkey I lost a lot of weight. To the point that I actually thought I was too thin. I know. I too didn't think that was possible. Particularly for someone who is 5'1. After I became thin I started thinking mean things about people who complained about being fat. I thought shut up and stop eating so much. Why don't you go on a treadmill if your butt feels too big?

Having gone from being fat/chubby to being thin, I felt like I could hate on fat people legitimately . Kind of like when minorities say offensive things about their own kind.

And then I got fat again. I knew it was happening. I went home and studied for the bar. Eat, eat, eat. Fahad got married. Eat, cake, eat, ice cream, eat. Then Ramadan came. Starve, eat samosas, pakoras, anything, eat, eat. Then I was fat because of Ramadan so eat, eat, eat until I feel better. Then I was in London. Fried chicken for one pound everywhere. Eat, eat, eat. Then I went to Paris. Croissant perfection. Eat, eat. Belgium. Chocolates, eat, waffles, eat, eat. 

There were so many times I was eating so much that it physically hurt. You know that feeling, right? When you go to a restaurant or your mom's house? And you just gorge because the food is so damn good. I think we don't realize how much we do that until we actually start noting it. Or we overeat so much that our bodies become accustomed to it.

The thing is, becoming fat doesn't really sneak up on you. (Unless you became fat in your early teens or before you really knew any better.) It is the result of many, many, many choices. Most of them involve not stopping eating when you are too full and not exercising even when you can feel that your body needs it.

I am not writing this because I think fat people are evil and thin people should rule the world. But I do realize that weight is an issue for a lot of people, both men and women and we don't have to hate ourselves over it. We can't constantly mistreat our bodies and then expect them to still shine for us. Our bodies are not trophy wives. They will not stay with us if we have affairs with ding dongs and ho hos. 

As I was standing in bikram with my newer, chubbier self, I felt each and every posture. My legs and arms were shaking for most of the workout. At one point I started rolling up my mat because I was the only one who couldn't do it right. I looked like such a fat rolly, polly idiot and I felt humiliated.

But I took a deep breath and thought it will be far worse if you walk out. How will you ever come to another class? My mom always says, you have to take that first step, and after that, the only ways you get to your goal is to continue, one slow step at a time.

So, I made a commitment to stay there. To not allow myself to leave just because I felt embarrassed. To not deny my body a chance to be something better just because it was 'hard.' I realize that the first time I got fit, part of it had to do with trying to eat a salad or something light for one of my meals, but a lot more had to do with simple things like only taking the stairs, taking walks when I was bored or going to yoga even when I didn't feel like it.

I remember that in almost every single yoga class, I swore it would be the last one. Yoga is so hard for me. The postures are hard, the insecurity of being the worst in the class is hard and focusing on one thing for 90 minutes is hard. And for those same reasons, I realize that it is really good for me and it is something I need to do.

Today, I can start to feel the toning in my shoulders and the firmness of my legs. I can feel the long line in the back of my spine and I feel good. I feel healthy and I feel strong.

The World Keeps Going Around

500 Days of Summer- 2 broccoli sprouts

Dear God. This movie was so bad. You like the Smiths? Me too! OMG. Fate! You are an unconventionally pretty girl that thinks I should be an architect? And you yell penis in a park? OMG. You are so eccentric and unique. Puke, puke, puke.

The movies take on love was idiotic. The characters are incredibly unsympathetic and you pray unbelievable because it makes me sad to think that people like that really exist.

I wouldn’t even recommend this movie as a ‘totally chill want nothing from a movie movie’ night. What were you thinking Joseph Gordon-Levitt? After seeing some of your recent GQ spreads I expected so much more from you!

Inglorious Bastards- 3 chocolate digestives

Fantastic! So well done, clever and engaging. Brad Pitt nailed his character and the scene in which they are in the basement bar draws you in so much that you completely forget the world around you. Isn’t that what we look for when we watch a movie??

This movie has humor, revenge, and a classic Quentin Tarantino ‘happy ending.’ Just when you think you can’t watch one more WWII movie, QT proves that you can.

My Sister’s Keeper- 3 potato boreks

After Hena saw this movie she started saying that I was Abigail Breslin’s twin. After watching it, I am sure that Hena was on some serious drugs when she saw the movie, but I am also sure that I would agree that it was a fantastic film.

It is a simple story. Really not much more than a lifetime movie with an all star cast. But that’s why these guys get the big bucks, no? Alec Baldwin and Breslin contribute significantly to the movie’s success but the casting across the board is on target. I question the inclusion of Cameron Diaz but even her one horrific outburst scene doesn’t ruin the movie.

I appreciate the moral dilemma the movie tackles and hope another movie will try to address it again, perhaps more successfully. The main theme of the movie hinges on the question of what right a person has to make choices about their own body and life. In this movie, that question takes a back seat to a more cliché story line that focuses on family dysfunction and giving Diaz too much screen time.

Even with that said, I cried throughout the movie. I thought of my own sister and how difficult it would be to see her go through something like that. The bravery it would take to do what Breslin’s character does. I clutched onto Feraz thanking God that despite our little hurdles of being apart, that he is in good health and that we have not been tested in such a difficult way.

I recommend watching this with someone you love, especially if you are feeling some distance between yourselves. It will glue you right back together!

Paranormal Activity – 1 gummy bear

After all the hype about this movie I was looking forward to being scared!

After eleven minutes into the movie I started wishing that something bad would happen to both people because they were so incredibly annoying. At this point I still thought the movie was real. It brought back flashbacks of Into the Wild where I kept thinking, do such stupid and pretentious people really exist? I even said to Feraz, this has to be real footage because there is no way you can act that annoying. In fact the movie would have actually been really scary if it was real.

Seeing that it wasn’t, it was a bit cumbersome to sit through a lot of it. I couldn’t understand how Micah could be so stupid as to keep trying to invoke the spirit. Are men really that pig headed and desperate to prove their manhood??  Why did Katie need his permission to call the demonologist? Are you more scared of your semi-retarded boyfriend or of a demon that can f*** you up?

I have to admit that the last three minutes were pretty redeeming and were pretty scary. Especially since I still thought the movie might be real footage. As scary movies go, it was better than most but that is just saying more about how bad most scary movies are than how good this one was.

Away We Go – 2 gummy bears

Feraz and I stopped watching this movie about five minutes into it because  it seemed so stupid. After Feraz left, I gave it another go and I think its safe to say that they packed the worst five minutes into the very beginning of the movie.

It wasn’t the greatest but as someone who has been a wandering nomad for what seems like my whole life, I could relate to the idea of searching for a place that you can call home. Er, something, something. I am sleepy now. Goodnight.

Santameera Clause

This past Thursday I was the Santa Clause at my work's holiday party.

It started innocently enough. Word around the office was that every year someone dressed up as Santa and handed out the Secret Santa presents at the holiday party and gave gifts to the kids. 

A person has some dreams in life. They write them down on a sheet of paper. And over the years, if they are lucky, they check them off one by one.

On Thursday I checked off one of my dreams.

But I have to say, playing Santa in my mind was very different than playing Santa in real life. Getting into the costume was much harder than expected. It was very hard to make everything look real but eventually I think we did a pretty job. 

The best part was the first moment I walked out. The kids went nuts. The first kid that saw me had an extremely excited look on his face. He grabbed his head. Turned in a circle as if he didn't know what to do and then ran into the hall to tell all the other kids, "Santa is here!!!"

I heard a stampede and suddenly a ton of expat kids were jumping around me. It was very exciting. For a few seconds. Then someone tried to pull off my beard. 

From that moment on there was a divide. The kids that believed (which diminished as they noticed my manicured nails and high heels) and the kids that were trying to figure out who I really was. 

One of the highlights was when one of the kids put up his hands when everyone was jumping on me and said, "Hey guys, have a little respect. This is Santa."

One woman came up to me and said, "There aren't many firsts these days but I'd have to say a Pakistani, Muslim, female Santa has got to be a first." 

This is honestly how much fun I have work at every day. I love my job. I had to cut it for propriety. Haha.

Little did I know that Phyllis was being a female Santa that same night!

Another New Home

I am in yet another new apartment. Moving day is always strange. You bring your familiar belongings and plop them all down in this foreign space which is supposed to be home.

 

I look around at my tiny apartment remembering that I agreed to live here for the month mostly out of desperation. Ugh. Although my friends in Istanbul have been incredibly great and insisted that I could stay with them until I found a place I really liked, I felt terrible imposing and also just wanted a place that was mine.

 

For that reason I also opted not to have a roommate this go. I have had incredibly good luck with my roommates. I have no particular horror stories to tell. But for the past few years I have always felt like an intruder in someone else’s space. I want a place where I can leave my clothes on the sofa if I feel like, where I can do the dishes on my own schedule, where I can wake up at 3 am and take a shower without feeling guilty. They are simple, stupid things but they are the desires that are born from constantly living with other people.

 

So, this will be the first time in my life that I will be living alone and tonight will be my first night alone in this apartment. Feraz helped me move in and get settled but he just left for the airport back to London. In all the months and years we have spent apart, you would think that time would make it easier to say goodbye. But each time it feels harder than the last. Each time I think, I can’t wait until it is the last time we have to be apart for so long. I think it is the strongest testament of love that a person who craves independence as much as I do just wants to settle down, wants someone who nags when I come home from work late and who’s schedule I have to consider when I make my plans.

 

But I digress. I came home just now and was met by my landlord. He is an overweight, mute man who smells like strong, strong onions mixed with body odor. Yesterday, he approached Feraz and I outside of our apartment and tried to speak to us. Of course he can only grunt and make broken sounds. He was able to communicate that he is basically mute and seemed to be implying that he is our landlord.

 

We were hesitant to let him in to the apartment because we had never met him before and the agent who I had rented from had said that she would personally introduce  me to the landlord. Feraz and I were unsure of what to do as this man kept making sounds and gesturing for us to let him into the building.

 

Finally, we asked him to use his keys to get into the apartment if he was the landlord. He couldn’t find any keys. Shady, shady we thought. But then he pulls out a showerhead attachment. That was his golden ticket. I knew that the landlord was supposed to come install that yesterday so I let him in.

 

He followed us into the apartment, breathing heavily the whole time. He sat down by the futon and with his overweight body and smelly odor and proceeded to breathe heavily all over my apartment. He then started taking out some extra dishes he brought. He unwrapped each one. One by one by one with his big clumsy hands.  Feraz and I looked at each other wondering if this was really happening.

 

The landlord then went into the bathroom to try to fix the showerhead but was unsuccessful. This whole time he is trying to talk to us which is just heartbreaking because there is no way in hell that we are going to be able to make out what he is saying. We keep shrugging our shoulders and responding bilimyorum which means I don’t know.

 

He finally leaves and Feraz says, “That has to be up there with one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me.”

 

“Thank God you were with me at least,” I responded.

 

Imagine coming home in the dark to a huge man who can’t talk and insists on being let into your apartment. After I dropped Feraz off, I came back to the man waiting for me. He asked to be let upstairs and I let him in. Today, he brought me more dishes, which he also unwrapped one by one and some new towels. He is coming back in half an hour to fix the shower. I don’t think I will be requesting anymore repairs or things for the apartment…

 

Another new place, another new adventure.

 

Dogs and Domestic Violence

Last week as my friend’s and I were entering their apartment, a Turkish woman came screaming and ran past us into the apartment. At first we are not sure what was going on.

 

She told us that her sister’s husband was hurting her and there was a six- month old baby in the home. She was crying and shaking and totally out of it. We wanted to call the police but they don’t get involved in ‘private’ matters. We called the compound security and they assured us they would take care of it.

 

According to recent statistics, 4 out of every 10 married women in Turkey have been physically or sexually abused by their husbands. From the stories I hear, it seems that this is a gross underestimate. When we lived at our old apartment I remember hearing horrifying fights between a neighboring couple. When the fear seeps in under your door and into your night, should it still be a private matter? When you can almost feel the pain the woman must be going through, should you still not call the police?    

 

Two days later there are some beautiful purple orchids at the door. Attached is a note in poor handwriting saying, “I am very sorry to disturb you and your family on Saturday. It connected to alcohol. When my husband drunk to get angry. Thank you so much.”

 

When we read the note, I wanted to cry. Here, the woman who is already being abused feels the need to protect the image and reputation of her husband. She attributes the behavior to the alcohol instead of to her husband. She takes the blame by being the one to apologize for the disturbance. She thanks us for… what? Understanding? Not saying anything or calling the police? For not being upset with her?

 

The first issue here is the matter of domestic violence being a ‘private’ issue. The compound is hesitant to involve the police because these are their residents and more likely than not, the husband is paying the outrageous rent that comes with this address. Are they not getting involved to protect the sanctity of the family’s private sphere or to assure that they have a happy customer who can beat his wife with the protective shroud of the compound’s policy in place?

 

Do the police not get involved because they really feel this is a private matter? Or is it because most of these men who make up the police force have a vested interest in maintaining a status quo that permits the abuse and oppression of women? Or is it because the men who do want to speak up are afraid to do so in the face of their colleagues and a society who still quite openly subscribe to a machismo and misogynist culture.

 

No society should take the stand that domestic violence is a private matter. It never was and never should be The general safety of an individual is a responsibility that should be born by the whole of society.  In this instance, what happens in the private sphere significantly impacts the public sphere. Society’s that condone the abuse of women and allow children to be raised in such environments suffer economically, politically and on a multitude of other levels. Most importantly they carry the shame of these abused women. The blood of the women hurt by abusive men is on every member of society who turns a blind eye and keeps their mouth shut.

 

What can we do in this particular situation? We write a note that says “No problem at all. We just want you to know that our door is always open.” We make sure the husband doesn’t see it. But when the institutions in place don’t protect women, who do we call? What do we really do to help?

 

Last night I was taking the dog out for a walk and the elevator door was open. The sister and another man were there. The lady got really frightened and started screaming ‘I am scared of dogs.’ So I pull the dog close to me and say go ahead making room for them. They are over five feet away from me so they can easily pass, and the dog is being calm anyways so they have nothing to be scared of. This guy starts Screaming at me. He yells ‘Go away!! Get away!! GO GO GO!!” I thought he was going to hit me. His veins were popping out of his head. 

 

I was quite shaken by the incident but the thing that struck me the most was that this woman was willingly standing in the elevator with this seeming monster and she is more scared of a dog that has never done a thing to her. Who is the real beast anyway.

Things I Know Today

-I love Feraz more than any human being on the planet. He is my saving grace.

-Nothing bad can happen to you if you don't let it. Even the worst things are the best things and if you tell yourself that again and again, it becomes true.

-Glee is the best show ever right now. :) I'll Stand By You on Glee is a mind blowing experience.

-I have the best friends in the world. And I am so lucky that they have spread themselves all over the world for me to visit!

-You haven't lived until you've been to a Pink Party hosted by the Dutch Consulate. 

-My sister is my hero and my best friend. 

-I can write a novel.

-I don't ever have to be afraid to be myself. Ever. (Neither do you.)

And those are some of the things I know today. Not very entertaining reading, but important for me to write down nonetheless. 

You got me begging you for mercy

Paris is definitely one of my favorite places in the world. I love the wide streets, the incredible architecture and the deeeelicious croissants. (Especially that last part)

One of my life long dreams has been able to idly sit in cafes and write lazily, to look out a window and see the bustle of the street below me and to walk around soaking up everything around me. It feels so surreal to be sitting here working on my novel and sipping a cafe au lait. 

The last time I came to Paris my trip was more rushed but this time I have had about ten days here and they have been pretty incredible. Being in Paris with Feraz was so amazing. It was very different from most of our vacations in we didn't bother too much with the touristy stuff. We did see the Eiffel Tower and the Arch de Triomphe but mostly we just relaxed, lazed around and enjoyed the company of our friends that we were visiting. 

While Feraz and I were walking around in Paris we ran into a friend from Michigan. We were completely surprised as neither of us knew the other was in Paris at the time. We were able to spend a few days with him and kept laughing at the randomness of it all. Another friend of mine from Michigan also happened to be in Paris as of a few days ago so it was great to spend some time with him and some of his friend s here as well. 

One thing that really strikes me about Paris is the crazy amount of babies there are everywhere. This must certainly be the city of love if people are reproducing at such a fast rate! Our friend told us that kids start school when they are 2 or 3 and then they have a full day until five. That is why you don't really see toddlers anywhere and also why people probably don't mind having so many darned babies!

Our friends are pregnant and the advice that they give pregnant women here is pretty wild. They are told they can smoke up to ten cigs a day and that they can continue to drink moderately. They also give them crazy amounts of pills and are really against them traveling at all once they are in the last trimester. 

There seem to be a lot of mixed signals to the women! My friend also told me that the pressure to be thin is extremely high here and most women smoke like crazy and that is the reason that they continue to smoke during pregnancy. Never mind that their faces are going to look like crumpled leather on their diets of cigs and fake tanning.

Tomorrow is my last day in Paris but I am sure we will be back to visit our amazing friends who have been so incredibly hospitable and accommodating. By far the best part of traveling has always been and will continue to be the incredible people you meet along the way. 

(I will post pictures soon!)

As long as we got each other

I have decided that this blog needs video pick me ups. If you are down you can turn to these inspiring and uplifting songs to help you! Don't waste another minute on your crying!! I love you.

If you failed the bar...

When I found out the results for the Feb bar exam, first there was a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and even shock. Then, there was a sense of relief. At least I knew. And then, it felt terrible again. I left work early and waited at the metro. All I wanted to do was go home and see Feraz. Standing there waiting for my train, with throngs of people around me, I wanted to scream, I failed the bar! How is everything going on just like it did two hours ago?

JFK failed the bar three times and went on to be the President. Jackie Chan, a personal hero of mine, failed again and again and again all his life. So did Bill Gates, Isaac Newton, and Abraham Lincoln. And so has every other person who has walked the face of the Earth.

When I called my mom today I told her, Thank God I passed. I may have been able to have dealt with failing for myself but the thought of facing everyone else again was agonizing. She said something she has said to me my whole life and something that strongly has defined me. She said, if you walk, you're going to fall sometimes. That doesn't mean you should stop walking.

I noticed that a lot of people saying that today was the happiest day of their lives. The happiest days of our lives should be the ones when we are with the ones that we love, when our parents show us that they believe in us no matter what, when our partner turns to us when we have made a terrible mistake and gives us a second chance, when we are laying on the grass in a park and we look up at the sky and know that God is there with his endless love and mercy. They shouldn't be defined by whether we guessed correctly on 200 multiple choices questions. And likewise, the tragedies of our life should not hinge on something so arbitrary either.

So, if you failed today, its OK to cry and to feel bad if you want to. But remember who you are. You are the same person that has met the many, many challenges you have faced in your life. You are the same person who worked hard and made it through three years of law school. You are the same person that is a child of this universe and loved by so many. This a small kink in the big picture. One day it will just be a distant memory and another story you will tell about how you didn't give up, you persevered and in the end you were better for it. Trust me, I know.

I pray you don't look at me, I pray I don't look back

The novel writing begins. I thought Nano would be a great opportunity to write that novel that has always been sitting at the tip of my tongue. All those nights that I can't sleep, pages and pages of it write themselves in my mind. The characters have been dancing around for ages. They have been there for so long, that I am sure that they must be getting tired. If I don't capture them now, they might be so exhausted that they won't be there anymore when I am finally ready to write.

It is day 3. I have 5,000 words down and I am happy with about 27 of them. One of the things about nano is that you are not supposed to delete things you don't like. In some ways, it is an exercise. You write and write and write. It won't be your best work. It might be complete crap. But at the end of the month you will have 50,000 words and you are supposed to be proud of that. 

I recently read "Outliers" and in the book the Gladwell notes that we don't need to be extremely talented to succeed. The smartest people aren't the ones that get the furthest in life. In fact, you only need to be smart enough. Once you reach a certain threshold, you basically have the same tools as the genius. At that point, it becomes a matter of what you do with what you have, opposed to how much you have of it.

Gladwell also talks about the 10,000 hours rule. He asserts that to be really successful in any area, you have to have dedicated 10,000 hours to honing and perfecting that skill. He points to people like Gates, Oppenheimer, the Beatles, or Michael Jordan. All of them had put in 10,000 hours in their craft before they made it. Talent gets you to the playing field, but then you have to log those hours. You have to pay your dues.

We aren't born geniuses as much as we'd like to think that some people were. When you look at the best writers, scientists, or athletes, they worked and worked to create the magic that inspires us all. The overnight success is a myth. Nobody wakes up and can play Wimbledon level tennis or can write like Arthur Miller or Sylvia Plath.

The truth is my book is probably going to suck. It is not even the story I've wanted to write all this time. I am too scared to write that one. But hour by hour I am putting in my dues. I might not be a great writer even if I do. But I definitely won't, if I don't.