BY EHSAN SHAREEF (CTIS\/II)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Name: <\/strong>Rimza Razaque<\/p>\n\n\n\n Department:<\/strong> EE\/I<\/p>\n\n\n\n Country of Origin:<\/strong> Pakistan<\/p>\n\n\n\n What were your first impressions about T\u00fcrkiye?<\/strong> What do you like best about Bilkent and T\u00fcrkiye?<\/strong> Are there any similarities between T\u00fcrkiye and your home country?<\/strong> What will you miss most about Bilkent and T\u00fcrkiye?<\/strong> What\u2019s your favorite place on campus, and why?<\/strong> What\u2019s your favorite Turkish food and why?<\/strong> Where do you expect to see yourself 10 years from now?<\/strong> What\u2019s one thing you learned from Turkish culture?<\/strong> What places have you visited in T\u00fcrkiye, and which one is your favorite?<\/strong> What\u2019s an interesting question or comment you hear frequently at Bilkent\/in T\u00fcrkiye?<\/strong> Describe yourself in three words.<\/strong> How is the studying experience at Bilkent?<\/strong> BY EHSAN SHAREEF (CTIS\/II) Name: Rimza Razaque Department: EE\/I Country of Origin: Pakistan What were your first impressions about T\u00fcrkiye?I am on a plane from Doha to Ankara, half asleep after two days of packing and panicking, when suddenly the whole plane starts to smell like serious Turkish coffee. I[Read More…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10733,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[219,83,193],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10687"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10687"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10687\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10688,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10687\/revisions\/10688"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10733"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10687"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10687"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10687"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
I am on a plane from Doha to Ankara, half asleep after two days of packing and panicking, when suddenly the whole plane starts to smell like serious Turkish coffee. I want to sleep, my eyes want to sleep, but my brain smells the coffee and decides, absolutely not. I stay awake, buzzing, hyper and confused, and in that moment my brain settles on one thing, T\u00fcrkiye = coffee. Even now when I think of my first day, I do not see the airport or the city, I just smell that coffee in my head like a memory you can drink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a girl who grew up in Karachi, the wildest thing for me is that I can walk alone at 3 a.m. in Bilkent just because I feel like it. One holiday night I walked from my dorm to East Campus for the vibes, with music in my ears and the whole campus feeling like a sleepy little city that still had its lights on just for me. And then there are the people. Even when someone speaks almost zero English, they will still talk, mixing Turkish, English and hand gestures into one strange homemade language. Once in Tunal\u0131 I spent ages chatting with a guy who only really knew Turkish and a few English words; we understood each other perfectly and I ended up teaching him some \u201ccreative\u201d (ykwim) words, which he then proudly repeated to his friend like he had just won a prize.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One magic word. \u00c7ay. In Pakistan we are proper tea addicts; morning tea with family, evening tea where you report your whole day, and then that dangerous 1 a.m. tea you drink when you should definitely be sleeping. I thought this habit would make me look strange here, but no, the tea obsession is very real in T\u00fcrkiye too. There is always someone saying \u201c\u00e7ay\u201d in the background of every conversation. So, when I sit with people and we are all just talking nonsense and sipping tea, it honestly feels like home with a different sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is the funny part: I complain about Bilkent all the time; I study EE, which basically means I live in permanent survival mode, with exams that feel like boss battles in a video game. But I know that one day I will sit on a plane again, this time leaving T\u00fcrkiye, and it will hit me that this long, exhausting, dramatic journey is actually over. I will miss the independence the most, that feeling that the campus is my tiny city and sometimes, especially at night, it feels like it belongs only to me. I think I will miss even the horrible exam days, the late\u2011night walks and that strange pride you feel when you realize, \u201cSomehow I am still surviving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My favorite place is the track field. One night my roommate and I went there and it was just us, the dark and the quiet\u2014like someone had pressed pause on the whole campus. It is the one place where I feel I can be alone without feeling lonely, just walking or sitting and letting my brain breathe after a full day of yapping and studying. Out there, under the sky, I do not have to be \u201cproductive\u201d or \u201cbusy,\u201d I can just exist and that is enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am a simple girl. You show me b\u00f6rek and I am happy. Peynirli b\u00f6rek, patatesli b\u00f6rek, \u0131spanakl\u0131 b\u00f6rek, I do not discriminate, I love them all. I first met b\u00f6rek on a random evening before an exam, when a Turkish friend brought me a piece of spinach b\u00f6rek and my life quietly changed. I loved it so much that I started dreaming about her mom\u2019s b\u00f6rek, and somehow my dream came true because her mother actually sent a whole box just for me. That is when I knew this friendship was official.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In ten years, I need to be rich. I see myself travelling the world with my girls, collecting passport stamps and stories I\u2019ll be telling for years. I want to retire my parents, hand them plane tickets instead of bills, and take them around the world with me so they can finally rest while I drag them from one city to another. Basically, future me is a rich tired girl with a suitcase, a loud group chat and very happy parents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Turkish has a little magic trick for every situation. \u201cKolay gelsin,\u201d \u201cafiyet olsun,\u201d \u201crica ederim;\u201d there is always something polite, warm and tiny that you can say. It feels like the language is playing UNO reverse with kindness; every time life throws something at you, you throw back a small good wish. I love how these phrases make everyday moments feel softer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of my favorite memories is from Hamam\u00f6n\u00fc, where people were just\u2026dancing in the street for no big reason. There was a random restaurant, a random guy singing, and suddenly everyone joined in, like the whole street decided to star in its own musical. If you get the chance, go to L\u00fcgat Caf\u00e9; it has that cozy, hidden\u2011gem feeling that makes you want to stay until closing time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Whenever people are leaving, they look at me with soft eyes and ask, \u201cDo you miss home?\u201d It is a simple question, but it sits heavy sometimes, because the real answer changes every week. Some days I miss home so much it hurts, and other days Bilkent itself feels like home and I forget to be sad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
yapper, Yapper, YAPPER.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In one phrase: survival mode. Bilkent is the kind of place that gives you beautiful memories with mild academic trauma.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"