Osman Chapter 10: Trials before Blessings

Here we are in chapter 10! This week many bad things will happen and then a good thing will happen at the end! If you want to start at the beginning then click here.

Nothing but blue to see, and the smell of sea.

The next morning there were no students at the level two six A.M. class per usual. With the free time I took the opportunity to go to the top deck. As I gazed out at the horizon the French warship was no where to be seen. The Ottoman warship was missing as well. I went back down to the bridge to do the daily printing and to learn about the most recent gossip about the warships.

Nothing but smiles.

Uzgur was smiling as I entered the bridge, he was talkative and in a jocular mood. The warships had agreed that both of them would leave and for now no military action would be made against Osman. I finished my printing and showed him the list of students who hadn’t come yet. He promised to take the list to the captain who would talk to the students individually.

The following day the captain came back with news that some of the students were too far behind and they didn’t feel comfortable being in the class. With the new crew, I had noticed that there were a couple of students that were so far behind that the class was almost impossible for them, so I wasn’t surprised. They would end up getting laughed at and teased by their friends and one of them had told the radio man that he couldn’t understand anything, so he didn’t want to come anymore as well. I decided that I would make an extra class on Saturday since there were no classes then. I called it “Beginner catch up class” or in Ottoman: “Super cok beginner ders”. I put up posters along with the normal crew list with their class times. I came up with a creative idea, but I made one mistake. I added two confused looking people and then speech bubbles where I wrote common English mistakes that Ottoman students make. I.E.: “How old are you?” “Fine thanks and you?” “I am very money” etc. The only problem was that this enticed some people aboard the ship to add their own bubbles.

The daddies of the coop right?

One person added “I love cock” and put it right above the confused girl’s head. I decided to report it to the radioman and asked him if I should write a focus card. These were cards where anyone on the ship could report a safety hazard or complain about something. He laughed and said “No, let’s tell the captain.” The captain also laughed and said there was nothing we could do because there was no way to figure out who had done it. He said to write back “Come to the OIM’s office (the captain’s office) and you’ll find the biggest one”. Then the radioman started to talk about how one of the helicopter pilots from Cameron had a large cock too and the captain asked him how he knew.

I decided to do nothing, I thought that writing a response might get me more responses and they might write on future posters for more entertainment. Half a day later the message was still up and the talk of the ship. One of the head guys on the ship asked me to scratch it out, but I had a better idea. You know if you turn the second “C” in “cock” to an “O” it changes the word to cook? So that’s what I did. Then I added “ing” on the end. “I Love cooking” it said, which was a little bit sexist since it was above the girl’s head, but it was better than cock.

The mess hall was like a frat hall, even though most of the workers were 40 to 50 years old.

I assumed people on the ship might write on the posters at some point, as whenever I heard the foreigner’s conversations, they usually talked about three things: “Women, cocks and masturbating”. These of course were the western foreigners on the ship. I sat with them a few times and it was silent when I sat down, that was until someone brought up one of the three topics. Then they could talk for hours. I still figured if cocks and raunchy conversations were the worst thing about the ship, then everything would be ok.

In theatre the broken leg is a great thing, on an oil ship: not so much.

However, there were soon injuries in successive weeks. First a guy broke his leg on the stairs. There were constant reminders in safety meetings about holding onto the rail, and in those same meetings half the focus cards focused on people walking up and down the stairs, with a coffee in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Perhaps they were holding the handrail with their foot and hopping down. This man was apparently carrying laundry down the stops and missed the last two or three steps and crashed down, and cracked his ankle, with a minor fracture. He claimed he was holding the handrail when he fell but nobody believed him.

These fleshy sticks weren’t meant to go in a grinder

I thought that would be the end of it, that maybe everyone would be on edge and extra careful about safety, but I was wrong. The very next safety meeting there were two more injuries. One man twisted his wrist and had to be taken to Antalya for X-rays. He returned in under forty-eight hours and was working again though. Then there was a man who got his finger stuck somewhere it didn’t belong. He also went to Antalya, but he wasn’t so lucky. Part of his finger was amputated after his glove got stuck in some part of a machine and tugged his finger in after it. It made me glad that I was an English teacher.

Cranky tears, know no age.

That was until the new crew arrived. The classes went well and were pretty typical lessons, but one class came in and they were overly pushy. Immediately complaining about reviewing old content that half of them couldn’t do anyways. Demanding that the class be ended early because they were tired and more. I was happy to let them leave about five minutes early. I wondered if the last few weeks were just subsequent hell weeks. Then there was an announcement. “Do not use the elevator, maintenance is being done on it.” Well, I didn’t think anyone would be using it anyway since it hadn’t been working for almost two months.

Pretty close to how our elevator worked.

What I imagine the Scotsman on the radio looked like.

It wasn’t but a day later where the message “The elevator is working, I repeat the elevator is working” came across the PA system. A second PA announcement followed “WOOHOOOOOO”. Perhaps it was even more “O’s” than that. Something good had finally happened, and in relation to this week I had to say “it was about time.”

Osman Chapter 9: Crew Changes

Chapter 9 is here! This week, there are crew changes on the ship, which cause chaos and a French warship shows up!

If it’s your first time viewing the blog or story then click here to start at the beginning of the story.

Ship men leaving, much like they did on Osman.

Now everything was falling into place. My daily habits and schedule were working perfectly together. I also knew all the students; their names as well as their true levels, so it was much easier to plan the classes. I hadn’t messaged Darren for almost a week and had every part of my routine down, including doing laundry and eating. Yet when I went into the classroom and looked at the crew members from all the crews, their test dates and other information there was something looming over my head; “February 24th, 25th and 26th.” These were the days when the new crew would come on board and by the end of the 27th; they would be mixed in with the other classes.

Trying to figure out the crew changes and curriculum with mixed crews felt like entering a matrix.

Some classes were behind the others, and now there would be crews coming who had already completed certain units in the book that would be added to the chaos. Now it was time to send lots of text messages to Darren again. It was my first time facing the crew change, so no matter how much I talked about it or planned for it, it was impossible to know how it would go. Crew member shifts were also changing for those who would be staying on board, so I was also guessing when they would come to class. For the two classes that would still have Crew A members I planned three lessons and had them ready based on different scenarios. Scenario A: The same students come but no new ones. Scenario B: the same students do not come, only new ones come. Scenario C: the class is mixed with both crews.

Things getting serious

Darren recommended that I head up to the bridge and ask the radio man about the different students. He could tell me who was coming on which day and what the shifts would be for the students who still be on board. The radio man worked with me over the next fifteen minutes checking all the students work times and dates of arrival. When I was about to leave, he told me I should go to the top deck, because there was an Ottoman warship patrolling along side the ship. Apparently due to threats coming from Cyprus and the European Union, the Ottoman Empire’s leadership had sent a warship to protect Osman while it was doing its exploration drilling.

Looks scary or sexy, depending who you are.

As I exited the stairwell and was greeted with the smell of the sea, I could see the towering metallic structure of the ship, making its way almost to the top of Osman’s top deck. Gigantic guns ready for action, Osman men in camouflage patrolling and running about, and others standing at attention with rifles awaiting orders. All of the sudden, there was a radio announcement blaring out of the warship’s speakers. It was in Ottoman, so I couldn’t fully understand it, but they seemed to be pointing towards the horizon. I squinted and tried to peer through the piercing sun and the white water that was flashing and reflecting to see. There was a tiny black dot on the tip of the water, far in the distance, where the water met the sky.

I was awoken at four A.M. with a siren shrieking. There was an announcement about the dot on the horizon. It was a French warship, which was coming at full speed towards Osman and its warship. The radio man went on saying that we should be ready at all times for an abandon ship drill, should anything happen. When seven A.M. rolled around there had been no other announcements, but I was awoken by another shrill noise, my alarm clock. In the class I had a stroke of luck, no students came. Then when ten AM came, only old students joined the lesson. A bit more relaxed about the crew change situation I went to the bridge to see how the warship situation was going.

A lot of action on the top deck.

The radio man Uzgur looked serious. No smile was on his face and he was furiously typing on his computer. He couldn’t take it any longer and went out onto the deck to smoke a cigarette. He apologized for not being friendly when I came in. He told me to look out onto the water and there you could see the French warship, now only a hundred meters or so from Osman. Directly fifty meters from the French warship’s guns were the Osman warship’s guns, they were both pointed at each other. Neither ship had much commotion on it, with men standing at attention and ready to take orders. Uzgur said, there was a lot going on, on the radio. There were a mix of threats and commands which were mostly being ignored for now. The French ship was demanding that Osman leave Cyprus’ waters. The Ottoman’s were demanding that the French warship leave The Ottoman Empire’s waters. Then they went from demands to threats and from threats to commands. Then the cycle continued but there was still no movement on either of the ships.

The main sources of entertainment on the ship were the gym and sleep.

I wanted to continue watching the exciting stalemate, but it was about twenty minutes until my third class. I went back downstairs to the classroom. When one o’ clock arrived, there were only crew B students. I did my normal thing, going to the gym, showering and relaxing until dinner came. At the dinner table there was the latest gossip about the warships around the dining room’s tables. The French warship and the Ottoman warship wouldn’t budge. I finished my dinner as quickly as possible and headed upstairs for the final class.

Mixing it up in the class like this. Unfortunately there were no girls though.

Seven P.M. swung by and the class was a mix of one crew B student and three crew A students. It was also a class mixed with crew A students who were in different units. My plan for this scenario had been to do the unit that was the furthest behind, and the more advanced students didn’t seem to mind. As the students left the class at eight fifteen, I was able to relax. Now I knew where all the students were and planning the lessons would be easier.  The day was over and now I felt more comfortable with crew changes. The other ones would be much easier. The only problem at this point was the students who wouldn’t come to class, yet is extra free time on one’s hands ever a problem? I went up to my cabin for the night. The warships suddenly crossed my mind again, but then I relaxed. I was sure they wouldn’t do anything. Thirty minutes later I crawled into bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep.

Osman Chapter 8: The Radio Room

Welcome to the weekly blog! This week we continue with the story of my experience being an English teacher on an oil ship. If you want to start at the beginning of the story to catch up, then click here.

Our radio man wasn’t this handsome, but he was trying to be.

Before I even left Adana for the ship, the other teacher “Darren” had messaged me on WhatsApp and advised me to have a good relationship with the radio operators. Another radio operator named “Samet” had also messaged me, telling me about the PSV. Having a good relationship with the radio operators wasn’t going to be my only goal, but everyone. Because on a ship of even two hundred men, I assumed that gossip could get around quickly, and any bickering or fighting wouldn’t have much room to bounce around. Therefore, I greeted every person I saw on the stairs or in the hallways and chatted at every opportunity. In a realm full of gossip, it’s best to let them know everything about you, rather than to be a mysterious figure followed by many rumors.

Loads of a stairs. A dream or a nightmare, depending who you are.

My first day going up to print, I climbed the four flights of stairs and met another radio operator, this one was called “Uzgur”. He turned out to be a very talkative and friendly one. I often stayed up on the “bridge” talking and hanging out for a good thirty or forty minutes when he was there. The first few trips he helped me print or copy what I needed but soon I had mastered the printer and he only talked to me as I copied. There was also a door with a deck where people working in the radio room and bridge could smoke. I called it “NAV deck” a few times but some workers got upset at me and said I should call it “The bridge”. Before I knew it, it was part of my routine; climbing the four flights of stairs, copying, and talking with the radio operator. Due to the time I was usually ready to print and their shifts; it was usually Uzgur. I was fine with this as he was the most open and friendly of the radio operators.

Syria. It’s hard to find a non-political map nowadays.

I also chatted with the DPO, which was a fancy name for the person who kept the ship aligned properly. The acronym actually stood for “Dynamic Positioning Officer”. The first one I met was named “Daane” with two As. He was from the Netherlands, but Samet used to joke around with him and say he was from Syria. He didn’t appear to like the joke, but Samet really enjoyed it.

“I have so many things to show you”

I learned a lot about the devices and instruments in the radio room as Samet showed me how to zoom and change the cameras and Uzgur showed me different mapping, tracking and frequency devices. He also showed me how to work the public announcement (PA) board and how to change it so the user would send a PA everywhere including the accommodation areas. The PA announcements were usually sent to the working areas and only the drill PA announcements were broadcasted everywhere.

What my friend was imagining.

Another thing I liked to do in my free time was to watch the waves and look at the sun; taking many pictures of them as they changed, or fascinated me. I asked Uzgur more about the waves and how they were measured, so he showed me the measuring system. It was based on the wind speed and the current. The first time we checked the waves they were two meters high! I told a friend on WhatsApp and he almost had a heart attack. “STAY AWAY FROM THE SIDE OF THE SHIP! HOW IS IT STILL AFLOAT?” he panicked.

What the sizes were actually based on

However, they weren’t two meters high in the air, they were two meters on the wave measuring scale. The radio operator told me that there were different kinds of waves. Ones that were small in size but moved quickly, others that were medium sized but moved slowly and lastly there were giant waves that moved the slowest. The strongest waves were the small ones that moved quickly. The measurement had more to do with strength than it did height. At night they had observed waves at eight meters!

Those who seek knowledge will always go farther than those who don’t.

I thought about it the next day while watching the waves again. I liked to go out onto the open area of the ship and watch them. How high were the ones today? Later in class a student guessed that they were one point six meters. As he and the others left the classroom, I stood up and looked out the window at the waves once more. Then it occurred to me. In the classroom I was teaching Uzgur English but in the radio room he was teaching me about the waves. No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always be teaching someone one thing and learning a different one from someone else.

Osman Chapter 7: Weekly Safety Meetings

Welcome to the next chapter of the story of my life on an oil ship as an ESL English teacher!

To begin from the start of the story click here.

The feeling of completing a lesson.

I completed the first wave of level two and three classes, as well as the first abandon ship drill but now the next day loomed. My first weekly safety meeting and all those level one classes. I also needed to get my face fitted for an oxygen mask, as I was reminded by the guy who helped me find the stairs when I was lost on the “NAV deck”.

Pastirma and fried eggs.

I woke up around six AM, as I had every day so far on the ship. I put on my clothes and headed down the four flights of stairs to the mess hall. There was a smaller sized crowd than normal. I had “Pastirma” and scrambled eggs. Pastirma is a “non-pork” version of Osman bacon that is super salty. I was told that people had to be careful of eating too much of it as it would emit a strange smell from ones pores if they ate too much of it. I grabbed a couple of fried eggs and a tomato slice as well and washed it all down with a cup of orange juice.

The calm before the storm.

Then it was off to the training room. I went through the normal rituals, unlocking the door, plugging in the printer, opening the laptop and turning on the TV. I browsed over the lesson plan and then waited for students to come in. About three minutes before seven the first student came in and then before I knew it there were three of them.

The nuts and bolts of English

This class was a unit behind the others, and there were two main students who were a bit older and one of them was a lot slower than the other one. We learned some vocabulary, did a few listening activities and then busted out the “Oil and Gas” book. There were two books we were using, Speak out and Oil and Gas. Speak out was a generic ESL book with vocabulary, listening, grammar and writing exercises. The Oil and Gas book was similar but had lots of vocabulary and exercises that tied in working in the oil and gas industry. This book was good but a bit too academic and advanced for the lower level class. I reviewed some tools with them, tools related to their job such as a spanner, wrench etc. For the final activity we read a dialogue together first and followed that by acting it out. It took them a few moments to get the gist of the role-play exercise but then it was off and rolling. “What’s in the box” “Some screws” “how many?” “14” “that’s too many”. They practiced several more phrases “That’s the wrong part number” and “Perfect, that’s the one we need”. Then it was eight fifteen and time to say goodbye. They waved enthusiastically and went to sleep, I waved back and got ready for the next class.

I cruised through the ten AM class and before I knew it, I was eating lunch. After lunch I wandered into the cinema for the first time since my tour with Steffen the safety guy. There were already three or four dozen people in the seats waiting and there were some people signing a paper on a clipboard. I walked past them and sat down, not really knowing what they were signing or doing. Then each person that came in signed the clipboard, so I asked a man sitting near me if we needed to sign in. “Yes,” was the answer.

A scene from the episode.

 It wasn’t long until the meeting started. Steffen spoke in English and another Osman gentleman translated every twenty seconds or so. They showed a PowerPoint presentation which focused on trash segregation, and also pinpointed the main safety precautions. Stair safety was the most popular topic this time. They showed a clip from a family guy episode where he falls down the stairs a lot and then decides to live upstairs to avoid going down the stairs. I never thought so much about a handrail before in my life but now with the ship weaving and bobbing sometimes; it seemed like a good idea, especially after that family guy episode.

The award for winning the weekly competition was usually a powerbank.

The main event of the meeting was when they randomly drew the winners of the week. These were drawn from the focus card reports that had been filed that week and then the ship’s captain gave free power banks out to the two lucky workers. The focus cards were written when there was a problem or a safety issue. There were usually around two hundred of them written each week. Don’t be too alarmed; some of them could be as simple as a person not shaving or someone not holding the handrail while walking up the stairs. Others could be more serious, not following safety precautions with equipment, leaving flammable material in a bad place and so on. After the meeting the students strolled into the classroom, some of them on time and others late due to the meeting and wanting to smoke afterwards.

Breathe…

The class went well and after reporting attendance and class notes I went upstairs to find the oxygen mask guy. He was Scottish and it was the same Scottish guy who gave me the H2S safety briefing on the first day. I was supposed to take a deep breath and hold it for eight seconds. He told me, “take a deep breath, then I will give a signal.” Actually, it sounded more like “Tek eh depp breth, en I well gev ya eh segnel.” I took a deep breath and gave him a thumbs up, then he said something that sounded like a mix between start and stop. It sounded more like stop, so I started breathing again. We did it three times before I figured out that he was saying start and not stop. He didn’t know that I was breathing and thought air was leaking out of the mask, so he pulled it as tight as he could, and it was already tight enough to begin with. After I realized what he was saying we progressed through the attempts much faster. He gave me a copy of the results and I parted ways with the Scotsman for the last time.

I usually feel like this picture at the end of the day.

After dinner and my final class, I closed the door, locked it, and headed upstairs for the night. The classes and hours were going by much faster now. I had completed my first week of classes, my first abandon ship drill, first safety meeting, and all of the safety briefings and other things I needed to do. I felt a sense of relief as I laid in bed that night. I had seen all the students and been through all the classes so the lesson prep would be much smoother now. Likewise, I had been through the safety meetings and drills, so they would also be much easier going forward too. Now just for one more thing to get used to, the painful feeling of waking up at six AM.

Osman Chapter 6: The Abandon Ship Drill

Welcome to this weeks blog! We are continuing the story of my life on an Ottoman oil ship as an English teacher. This week I experience my first abandon ship drill. If you missed the beginning, here is the first episode: Prologue.

Wht my class often felt like….

The second day with the level three students was another easy one. A single student came at seven AM and then two students came for the seven PM class. No students at ten AM and again no students at one PM.

Ok he looked a little bit friendlier than this.

Around midday a knock came at the door and a large student with glasses came in to talk to me. He looked like a guy who liked to talk, and that turned out to be true. He came in and talked to me for about fifteen minutes and then left. The day was pretty quiet after that; I started my gym workout, edited one book and did the level three class at seven. As I was putting everything away and preparing to lock the class up for the night, I remembered that there were certain emergency drills on a weekly basis. I tried to recall where I was supposed to go. There was one where I had to go to the cinema and sit on the right side, then there was another one where I had to go to the lifeboat. I had completely forgotten the deck, but I had a faint memory from my tour with Staffen, he had said that I should go to lifeboat 2.

When all the stairs and hallways look the same, how do you find anything?

As I walked up the stairs, I ran into one of my students named “Vahap”, he was a welder from my level two class. I asked him which deck it was and he told me “Deck B”. I felt a sigh of relief and continued up the stairs.

Everyone’s favorite time.

I woke up and it was Saturday, a more relaxed day with no classes. Then I remembered that I had a student named “Barak” who needed to take an exam, because he had had to leave the class early the previous night. So, I got up around eight thirty and went to the class. After giving him the exam, the day was pretty quiet. I filled out the reports and prepared the lessons for Sunday and Monday. This day I wrote one poem and edited both of my books then around seven PM the student with glasses returned.

Is this your gourmet cheese?

His name was “Serkanhan”. I had previously tried to learn Polish and the name for cheese was “Ser” and kan, was like “can” in English, so this is how I tried to remember his name: “Cheese can”. He talked to me for about fifteen minutes and then told me that there was a drill tonight and asked me if I knew where to go, I told him lifeboat two on B deck. He said “wow”, and added that most people didn’t usually know where to go.

Hello sir, what beautiful music you have. Would you mind turning it down though?

I was preparing to leave around nine o clock when the dreaded screeching noise came. It sounded like a giant alarm clock that you wanted to slap and never hear again, but this giant alarm clock never stopped beeping. I calmly followed a man into the cinema room, and we were the only ones there. Then an announcement came “This is an abandon ship drill, please go to your primary muster point”.  The guy next to me jumped up and yelled “oh shit, primary muster point?”.

I often felt like I was on the Titanic.

My thoughts exactly, “Oh shit, primary muster point? B deck, right?” As I headed up to B deck, lots of people were running past me, many of them with life jackets, the further I went up the stairs, the less people I saw. It was apparent that I was going the wrong way, and I couldn’t find a door to go outside. I asked a man, who was in a hurry, “Lifeboats are on B deck right?” His answer was “No, follow me.” We clambered down the stairs and then I realized we had to go to “A deck”, not “B deck”. I also needed my life jacket, “Should I go back up two flights of stairs and get it?” I asked myself.

What an amazing device, I wonder who invented it?

Then I saw a locker filled with lifejackets, so I grabbed one. After a few moments of figuring how to put it on, I turned my card around and stood in line. We stood there for what felt like forever, and there were still people missing. They sounded the alarm again and this time it kept going for five or six minutes.

Scotland. What a beautiful country, but what the fuck are they saying?

The whole time my group was silent except for two Scottish guys, who spoke in thick dialects. “Aye did’yeh se’de farse down by de were-well-e?” “Naw’r deh stret far’lo deh begg’in.” “Seh deh Mester Flackersnap slepen on deh shep en’de Pharoh Islands?” I got “Mister Flackersnap” and “Faroe Islands” and that was all I understood. These guys continued to talk throughout the drill and finally the radioman reported that only three men were still missing. Four minutes later a dozen guys came walking out and shortly after that the drill was finally over.

Me, almost every night that I was on the ship.

Like all nights, I went back up to my cabin to go to sleep. Now I knew where to go, hopefully subsequent drills would be much easier.

Osman Chapter 5: The first day of teaching

The story of my first day of teaching on the ship called Osman.

This is the story of my teaching experience on an oil ship. If you missed the first episode, you can check out by clicking here.

6am, a time most people loath seeing; no matter how many hours of sleep they have gotten.

I looked at my clock and I couldn’t believe it was already six AM. I forced myself to get out of bed and shaved. After that I took a quick shower, as I hadn’t showered at all while on the PSV. The shower on that supply vessel had been suspect looking; there was one faucet that hung near the toilet, there was no barrier, no shower curtain and just the same tiles that were all around the bathroom on the floor. The water was also cold, and the entire ship was much colder than the temperature on Osman. After showering I tried to find the stairs that would take me downstairs and finally found them.

What a door inside a ship looks like. Beautiful, isn’t it?

Next, I tried to remember which deck the classroom was on. I glanced at the row of decks on a list near the stairs and thought I remembered it being “F deck”. However, when I reached the bottom of “A deck” which was right above “F deck”, there were no more stairs, only a door going out onto the deck of the ship.

A look out at the sea, during the wee hours of the morning.

I went out onto the deck and it was well lit, but as I looked out into the sea there was a swallowing darkness. I couldn’t see the waves, but I could hear them. I backed up and moved further away from the rail. Finally, I saw the windows of the classroom. Going inside, the starboard door nearest to the windows, eventually I found the classroom, with the lights on but nobody inside. I sat down and waited.

Our snack bar was a little bit less luxurious.

Fifteen or twenty minutes later the other teacher Darren came in. He asked me if I had eaten breakfast and I replied no. I had woken up at six and sacrificed breakfast over a shower and a shave just for today. He told me I could get some fruit from the snack room, but I didn’t dare leave the classroom for now. We sat for the next fifteen minutes briefly going over the lesson plans and then chatting with some small talk, most of which I don’t remember now.

Any teacher, gets to see many of these.

At seven A.M. no students came. Darren showed me how to record that in the “lesson notes” file and then told me he would leave around eight for the helicopter deck. There were calls on the broadcast system about the helicopter and people leaving. These calls would come almost every day in the future, and I would get used to radio calls coming over the broadcast every once in awhile. Darren left soon after and I waited for the next class that would be at ten A.M.

This broadcast booth looks similar to the one on the bridge, but there were less sliders on the board.

When that time came though, nobody arrived once again. Darren had told me that I could do my own broadcast for tardy students using the broadcast system or I could call the radio room and ask them to do it. On the first day I decided to let it slide and not to do any radio broadcasts. It had been expected that no students would come to the first two lessons, but after lunch, there would be students for sure.

A mess hall from a navy ship. The mess hall on our ship was a lot more attractive looking.

Lunchtime came at eleven A.M. and since I hadn’t eaten, I was more than ready to start as soon as the doors to the cafeteria opened. I had to ask a person going down the stairs where the mess hall was, and he beckoned me to follow him. Inside there were around a dozen tables for sitting and eating; two kitchen counters, a salad bar, a soup kettle, a dessert table and a second salad bar, plus a double-sided refrigerator and two jugs. One of the jugs was always filled with ayran and the other was filled with some kind of juice that changed from time to time. On my first day it was filled with orange juice. The other drink called ayran was a popular Osman drink, so it was filled and emptied every day. Ayran is a yogurt filled drink by the way. A Canadian girl in Istanbul once described it to me as yogurt mixed with sweat, but I had grown fonder of it than her. I met a few people at a table and chatted with them as I ate and then went back to the class to wait once again.

About three minutes before the class started a student came waltzing in, he had his head shaved bald and bushy eyebrows. He set his notebook down and then left. Soon there were four students and later a fifth came in. The class went like any other I had ever taught before. Introducing myself, writing their names on the board, talking about where they were from and other basic “get to know you topics”. We did a maze using “simple present vs present continuous” and then spent the rest of the class playing an “adverbs of frequency game”, similar to “candyland” except they had to ask questions and answer using an adverb of frequency to get to the end.

After dinner three more students came and we did the exact same lesson. I added a second die to make the “Candyland game” go faster but it still drug on forever. We had a few minutes left so I used the adverbs of frequency to ask questions and burn out the remaining minutes. They all shook my hand and said that it was nice to meet me and then the first day was about to finally close. I took a photo of the daily attendance sheet and sent it to Darren via WhatsApp, did the lesson report and punched the students into the attendance file. I looked around the room and made sure everything was in place. Turning off the lights, I locked the door and headed back up the stairs.

Me after the first day.

I had spent all day in between the classes messaging Darren asking about the level one student classes and many things about the schedule and planning. The first day was finished but now Sunday might be even tougher, with a full load of classes. As I would soon grow accustomed to, the level two and three students skipped their lessons a lot but the level one students almost always came. Luckily the following day was level three followed by Saturday where I only had to do reports.

Planning. My life’s greatest skill.

In my cabin, I went over my schedule and now that I knew what my days were going to be like, I could plan when to go to the gym, write and plan lessons. My first plan was to do the gym four days a week, on those days edit one book and on the non-gym days edit both books. Finally, on Saturdays I would write a poem and edit both books. This plan would not hold, but it was a good start.

Osman Chapter 4: The first day on Osman

In this chapter, we’ll learn about what happened on my first day on the oil ship! Well actually, it was half a day.

Before we jump in, if this is your first episode in the series, feel free to checkout the prologue and catch up before reading this chapter! Click here.

Similar to how my cabin looked, except there was less space and there was also a bunk bed.

The cabin room was slightly smaller than the dorm I stayed in while going to University of Alaska, Fairbanks. There was one desk against the left wall that was accompanied by a large comfy chair. Getting up from the comfy chair and taking a right there was a bathroom with brand new interior design, a tiled floor, a small shower and a vacuum styled toilet. There were also cabinets on either side of the mirror. There was a sign warning people not to sit while pressing the vacuum button on the toilet, as it could leave a large hickey where the sun doesn’t shine. Returning to the main room there was a small sofa opposite the desk, sitting down the cushions gave little resistance. On the left wall next to the desk there was a bunk bed with curtains and a sleep blinder. Across from the beds there were two dressers. There were also many outlets strewn across the room. These outlets also included American outlets, it was the first time I had seen them outside of the US in Europe or Asia.  I wondered how crowded this cabin would be with two people, especially the desk. Luckily for me, I would be the only one staying here, the rest of the crew had to share rooms.

It’s almost three fifty.

I waited until my cell phone’s clock read “two fifteen” and then I tried to find the area I had just been in. I walked around for a few minutes and then asked where “Steffen” was. They had told me my safety briefing would be with him. He came a few minutes later. He was a guy from Scotland, yet he only had a slight accent. He had giant eyes and in a matter of moments I could tell he cared a lot about safety. I sat down with him and the teacher I was meeting who I would replace as the English trainer for one month named Darren. Steffen went through many slides, he played a couple of sounds that represented alarms for abandoning the ship or dealing with different gas leaks or fires. It was an abundant amount of information and I instantly forgot most of it.

Similar to what our lifeboats looked like. We never got to see them in the water (luckily) though.

That ended up not being too bad, as much of it didn’t apply to me anyway. Then he took me on a tour around the ship, he showed me where my lifeboat was and what I should do when I got there. I had to turn my card around, grab a life jacket, find the last number and stand on it. All the numbers for each lifeboat were painted in circles on the ground. If I was the first person there, I should stand on one, and if someone was standing on one, then I should stand on two. It all seemed simple enough.

H2s Gas. It’s dangerous. Worse than burrito night.

After Steffen was done with me, I met another Scottish guy. This guy was called “Gale”. His Scottish accent was much thicker than Steffen’s. I followed him up the stairs to the helicopter deck and had to repeatedly ask him to repeat things three or four times due to his accent. He brought me to a room where he struggled with the TV for a while and then taught me all about H2S gas and the dangers and what to do if certain things happened. He showed me the equipment and had me practice opening and closing the oxygen valve I would use to connect my mask to if there were a serious H2S leak or incident. The further he went along the more I got used to his accent and by the time he was done I felt like I was ready to go to Scotland.

Dinner on the ship was pretty good. Okay it wasn’t this good. (but close)

After Gale, I was finally able to meet with Darren. We ate dinner and he showed me more of the ship. We talked a lot about how to do all the paperwork associated with the job. There was an attendance list on the computer, a daily attendance sheet for the students to sign, a lesson notes file for every class of every day, a lesson plans file for the same, and there were the books. There were also four different crews to track and the crew shifts to track and the shift changes to track with each crew change.

One of the books we used.

Now back to the books. There were the Oil and Gas books, and English exercise books. The English exercise books also had workbooks for the students and a teacher’s book that had lots of interactive activities in it. There were two whiteboards on either end of the room and across from the teacher’s chair you could see through the windows and look at the sea.

What our real classroom looked like. The table is a little bit curved due to the panoramic photo.

There was a long table with a TV monitor mounted on the end near the teacher’s chair. The TV was also connected to the laptop and there was a printer behind the TV, resting on a chair. After several hours of talking about paperwork and how things worked, he let me know that I would need to plan the lessons for the following day because he would be leaving at eight thirty in the morning. We spent an hour or so working on the lessons for the next day and then I went back upstairs.

NAV deck, short for “Navigation deck. We called this deck “the bridge”. This is a photo from google and not the actual Osman NAV deck.

My main piece of luggage was still in the radio room so I went up to get it. The radio guy was busy, so I just grabbed it and left. Then I walked around this deck called “NAV deck”, which is short for “navigation”. I kept looking at the signs trying to find the stairs to head down to my cabin, but I couldn’t locate it. Finally, after my fourth or fifth time around a square shaped hallway, a guy came out of one of the rooms and asked me if I was lost. He directed me to the stairs; the sign was obstructed behind two other signs. In the coming weeks I would learn – go left, then left to get to the radio room, then go right, and right again to get back to the stairs. My cabin’s floor was just below the NAV deck, so I carried my twenty-kilogram bag back down the flight of stairs and found my cabin again. Inside, I only unpacked what I needed and then slumped onto the sofa.

One of the perks of being on a ship.

It had been an eventful day. I had woken up on the PSV ship and spent most of the day there. Then rushed through two different Scottish guys giving me safety briefings. Then I had gone over all the paperwork and planned lessons for the next day. I sat on the sofa in my cabin for ten or twenty minutes, planning the next day. I thought about how I would plan my weekly schedule, when I would write, go to gym and eat as well as plan my lessons and do all that paperwork. Then I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to get to the classroom in the morning. I would have to wake up early. I hated waking up early. I could wake up at five thirty, take a shower and shave, then go to breakfast at six am and be in the class by six thirty. I could also just sleep until six, have a shower and a shave, skip breakfast and be in the classroom by six thirty. As I lay in my bed thinking, I decided to go with the latter plan.

Osman Chapter 3: Siem Sasha

Siem Sasha is one of the Port Supply Vessels (PSVs) that bring supplies to the oil ship Osman.

One of the most exciting parts of a flight, when the plane lands.

The plane’s wheels rolled along the tar-mac and soon I was exiting the airport. There was a man waiting with a “UNG” petroleum” sign as had been promised. UNG was the oil company that my English teaching company had a contract with. “UNG” stood for Uzbekneftegaz and it was an up and coming oil company. At the time I started work on the oil vessel, they had around one hundred thousand workers and 102 of them were working on Osman.

A look at Konya-Alta, which is near the port in Antalya.

The location of the port on a map. The port is in Liman.

The man drove me towards the port and as I talked to him, he had several questions; questions very similar to those from the taxi cab driver. Since he seemed friendly, I thought I would use that to my advantage. I told him about moving to Antalya and looking for places there. He pointed out the different districts as we drove across the city. First there was Lara, then Kepez, then Konya-alta, then Sarisu and finally Liman. The main thing that caught my eye during the drive was the mountain range and some of the peaks and mini peaks were quite close to the houses. I immediately thought about climbing some of them and my imagination started running wild.

An aerial view of the Antalya port terminal.

We arrived at the port’s gate and the security guard asked for documents and then asked me to step out of the vehicle. After some conversation between the driver and the guard, the driver got my bag out of the van and sped off. The security guard scanned my passport a few times, my Turkish resident card, he phoned someone and then finally let me through. There was a long sidewalk that led to a shipping area and then there was a terminal a little farther down the road. I was directed towards the working area that had a cafeteria, bathroom and a small lounging area. Beyond these rooms there were many cubicles. At this time, it was a little past nine thirty in the morning and I would end up sitting on the couch for several hours before lunchtime.

This lobby is a bit more luxurious than the one I was waiting most of the day in.

People came and went often, and a few people sat on the couches and conversed in Ottoman and took frequent smoking breaks. I spent the time snoozing and using up the last of my phone’s Internet minutes in between the ten to fifteen-minute snooze sessions. Close to four P.M. a man came and showed me and two other Ottoman guys a safety video on how to use a loading machine that would transport us from the Port Supply Vessel (PSV) to Osman. Then he asked us to sign a document and I asked him where to sign.

Oh. Hi.

Shortly after signing the document, one of the two Ottoman men started talking to me. He said he thought I was Ottoman this whole time, at this point around five hours, and that is why he hadn’t spoken to me. We talked for ten minutes and then went back to the cafeteria for dinner. It was a typical Ottoman dinner; a bowl of soup, bread, and an option of stuffed peppers or stuffed eggplant. A few hours after dinner we were told that the vessel might leave in the early morning or the next day at noon. We could go to a hotel and return at noon and risk missing the boat, or we could sleep on the boat.

The Ottoman guys were upset for some reason and conversing, but I agreed to go. Shortly thereafter they also agreed to go. We waited in the security area for some time before a guy came to check our passports and let us on the ship.

The gang-plank to Siem Sasha.

The look of the dock in the daylight.

The first thing I saw as we exited the terminal onto the dock was the moon and stars sparkling on the water; and a white and red colored ship gently rocking back and forth in the water. There were a few men with hard hats walking along the dock and in the distance was a metal ramp with ropes and metal forging the walk way. It was a gangplank.

As I looked around the ship I found a plaque and other things on the walls.

A health poster which included advice on how not to get Ebola.

I walked up the gangplank behind the others and we entered the small hole to get onto the ship. Inside there was a ship worker waiting with a sign in list. The Ottoman guys shared one cabin and I got another cabin to myself. We were given a tour by a Ukrainian man who turned out to be the second mate of the ship. He showed us the mess hall, which was a small open room with four or five tables, a counter with leftovers and empty steel pockets for the fresh meals. He told us the mealtimes and then showed us the lounge and smoking lounge. It was around ten P.M. so we all headed to our cabins and went to sleep for the night.

My first breakfast on the PSV.

There were lots of stairs leading up and down; the walls in the hallways gave barely enough space for two people to walk past each other. I finally found my cabin again; it was next to some kind of cleaning trough. Inside it was pitch black with the lights out so I kept one of the reading lights on while I slept. I could feel the water below rocking my bed slightly but due to the super long day, I didn’t have much trouble sleeping. I woke up again around four A.M., then six A.M., then 8. I wondered if the others had woken up yet, and so around nine thirty I finally got up out of my bed. After rummaging through the kitchen area for a few minutes I found a few things to eat. There was bread, sausage, cheese and a few onion rings. To my surprise the two Ottoman guys came up the stairs, they had just woken up too. We all ate together and then spent the rest of the day waiting.

I took a stroll around and took a look at what was in the loading area of the PSV

One of the Ottoman guys

A sign that could use some help

The ship never left the dock and we were still waiting by the evening. We spent our whole time in the smoking room, and I discovered their names were Barak and Talan. Barak was from Hatay originally and Talan was from the eastern part of The Ottoman Empire near Georgia. Barak spent the time playing Fifa on the PS4 and Talan spent his time watching videos on Instagram. There were frequent breaks for both them to have another cigarette.

The look from the back of the PSV as it left the dock.

What the PSV probably looked like from afar, as it bobbed up and down among the waves.

We spent another night on the ship and this time I had a harder time falling asleep, as I wasn’t that tired. The next morning, I got up again around nine thirty, but Barak and Talan didn’t come this time. I spoke with the chef who was Ukrainian and several other of the crew members. There was one from Russia, one from India and the rest were from Ukraine. Around ten or eleven the Ottomans came up for breakfast and then smoked. I spent most of the time learning the Russian alphabet on my phone, Barak played fifa on the PlayStation they had in the smoking room and Talan watched videos on his cell phone. By evening time, the ship was finally moving. We all ran outside and watched as the port, the mountains and all the buildings got smaller and smaller. I could feel the ship rocking side to side and had to learn how to walk properly. On this night, I could really feel the water rocking below the ship as I slept. It was as if the waves were touching my back.

Confident on the outside, screaming on the inside. Getting tucked into the frog machine.

By morning, I kept waking up every hour or so after six, because I was sure someone would come knock on my door, telling us we were going to be transported to Osman, but no such knock came. I had another breakfast, another lunch and was preparing to have another supper when we were told to get our bags and head to the main deck. They were loading cargo and the crew told us that we would have to wait until all the cargo was loaded. Then about ten minutes later, they changed their minds.

Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of the frog machine being brought onboard, but it is done the same way as this piece of cargo.

All three of us put on life vests and climbed inside the “frog” machine. The frog machine was a device about seven feet tall and shaped like a bullet. It had four seats and bars that you had to hold onto while being buckled in. The frog machine lifted us high in the sky and the boat looked tiny from above. I wondered to myself what I would do if the line snapped. If I unbuckled quickly and treaded water for three days, I might survive.

One of many new staring eyes, as I made my way to the correct place on the ship.

The line didn’t snap, and the machine lowered us down to the top deck of the ship called “Osman”. We were finally there after three days of waiting. This ship was huge in comparison to the small PSV boat. It reminded me of the titanic, with so many decks, stairs and rooms. I made sure to keep within a few steps of the Ottoman guys as we went to check in. We left our luggage in the radio room and were told to come back for a safety briefing in thirty minutes. I was supposed to find “C deck” and room number five hundred and thirty-eight. It took some time, but I finally found it.

Osman: Chapter 2: A hotel in Adana

Chapter 2: The adventure in the glorious hotel

Dude, looking busy.

Behind the counter of the reception desk sat a medium height and heavyset teenager. He sat hunched over so all I could see was the top of his head. He was busy staring at his screen and hoping to God that nobody asked him anything in English.

A stock photo, he’s a bit more confident then the receptionist I came across.

“Merhaba” I said. His head popped up. “Merhaba” means “hello” in modern Ottoman. Then the dreaded words came: “Ingilizce konusyor musun?” – “Do you speak English?” His bottom lip quivered, and his hands pointed at a shaking document. “I have a room booked for 7 days” I said. His eyes blinked, he looked down at his desk. I held up seven fingers. “Yedi gun, Yedi gun” I repeated. “Yedi gun” means “Seven day”, which wasn’t grammatically correct, but it was the best I had to offer at that moment. His frantic hands grabbed a telephone and shortly thereafter another man came down.

That beautiful “Nakit”

He slurred English and Turkish words together. “You pay nakit!” he said. His voice raised a bit as I pulled a bankcard out. “Nakit!” he yelled again. He motioned with his hands. He held one hand flat with the top part facing the ground and slid his other hand across its palm as if he were flinging money at me. “Nakit” means cash. “ATM var mi? ATM yakin?” I asked. “Do you have an ATM? Is there an ATM nearby?” He walked with me and there was a bank just around the corner. I withdrew nine hundred Ottoman Liras and moments later he handed me four liras and a key to room 402.

The elevator wasn’t this crowded, but it felt like it.

I got in the elevator with the nervous teenager, into an elevator that fit one or two people but now had a chubby boy and a skinny man and two large bags both weighing around twenty kilograms each.

A photo from the actual hotel.

This place looked a bit skeptical from the outside. There were dirty and old buildings as well as skeptical looking warehouses with Conos and Kros waddling on the streets like penguins. The hall was dark and shady looking, but the doors were new. I turned the handle and entered, everything inside was new and clean too. There were four different Internet connections to choose from, hot water in the shower and a nice comfortable bed. I slide the curtains to check out the view. There was a grand view of the warehouse’s yard, which was covered with beautiful packages resting on slabs that looked like they had been there for quite some time. Beyond the yard there lie a crumbling street. Across from that makeshift road there was a school and down it there were car lots and other stores.

“Shock” with “shocking” prices.

After settling in a little bit, I decided this neighborhood was not one where you would want to go out after dark. It was about four P.M. so I pulled out my phone’s map application to look for a shop. “Sok” showed up which is a small shop similar to wal-mart or Tesko in appliances yet there is less variety and the entire shop is the size of a large room that has a “U shape” that goes around like the IKEA stores. There are several different chain franchises like Sok around The Ottoman Empire: “A101” “BIM” and “Migros”.

Some dude opening or closing a door

I checked the route several times. I needed to exit the hotel, take a right, then walk for four to five minutes cross a set of railroad tracks and then I would arrive at the “Sok” store. I checked it a few more times, then grabbed my wallet, keys and phone and headed out the door.

Looking at this photo you can smell the air, but what do you smell?

I had been right about this neighborhood. I stood out and their eyes flocked to me like moths to light. As I crossed a road on the side closest to my hotel of the railroad tracks I had to sprint a little bit to avoid being hit by some kind of truck that looked like it was from the 1960s or 1970s. I crossed the railroad tracks and there still weren’t any signs of a “Sok” or any food shop. I pulled out my phone to check where I was on the route and then put the cell phone back into my pocket as quickly as possible.

shhhhhhhhh

There are a few rules you may want to remember if you ever end up in a neighborhood like this in The Ottoman Empire (or any foreign country). “Don’t ever pull a cellphone out of your pocket that isn’t a flip phone or a cheap smart phone”, and “don’t ever speak English or any foreign language that isn’t native to that country”.  As long as I didn’t have to open my mouth, I would be fine. Hopefully they would just think I was a Syrian Refugee from Aleppo or an Ottoman Laz from the Black Sea region.

Looks almost like the one I entered in Adana.

There were a few people waiting at the station and I passed a few shops on the opposite side of the railroad tracks and could see the “Sok” sign in the distance. However, as I got closer, I saw that there was also an “A101” store, so I went inside. Once again, I tried my best not to say too much. I grabbed a few things to make sandwiches, got a few mini tubs of yogurt, a bag of doritos and went to the check out. The workers in this shop didn’t seem to care that people were waiting in line and they either went about the shop continuing to work or just talked on their cell phones. Finally one waddled up and started scanning items. I paid in cash and went back out to the road. Carrying two bags of groceries more eyes were attracted to me and whispers of gossip were flowing already.

I wish I had bought this much pastirma.

After eating a pastirma cheese sandwich with cream cheese base it was almost time for bed. Pastirma is an Ottoman attempt at bacon, but it isn’t made from pigs. The cream cheese is actually a little bit different too, a very wet cream similar to cheese whiz with a rich coat of white that works perfect for a cheese/ham sandwich or a wrap. I lay on the bed and it felt great. The hotel was perfect inside, everything was working well, and it was also amazing to have a hot shower and working Internet again. There was no worry of the “Kro” landlord or the English school I had been working at anymore. I would just need to be careful to go out and shop before dark and keep my eyes peeled for anything dangerous on the outside of the hotel when I was out there.

A photo from Turkmenistan, but it represents what I saw in that neighborhood well.

Evli misin?

The days passed quickly and every two days I did a new shopping trip. The eyes never ceased to stare each time. On my way back one morning I noticed that there was a long line waiting for bread. Perhaps this wasn’t a dangerous neighborhood but a poor one. There were several times where I had been forced to speak in the shop and now there were whispers of “yabanci” when I walked by. “Yabanci” means foreigner. Yet, at this time I was no longer worried, in the daylight and on the main road I was sure nothing would happen now.

A sign that sinks most hearts

The flight was delayed a bit and I began to converse with the teacher who was currently on the ship “Osman” where I would soon be going. As I texted him and other people from the company, it hadn’t registered yet that I would be leaving soon, as I got used to the hotel and the road and the shop.

I’m sure this food tastes great, but I hate the time itself

However, that day did come; I had the flight time ready. I would need to leave the hotel at five A.M. and catch a flight at six fifty-five A.M. I hated waking up that early and was tempted to just stay up all night, but I knew even two or three hours of sleep would feel better than zero. I went down to the reception and told them of the details, they responded saying that they would be ready with a taxi at five fifteen.

A dark road road, so beautiful. It’s too bad you have to wake up early to see it.

I rolled out of bed around four thirty and had a quick breakfast. I ate the rest of the strawberry yogurt and put the rest of my things in my bags. I checked everything in the hotel to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and then grabbed my bag and the key and headed to the reception area. There was a man waiting for me as promised and we headed to the airport. I hated being up this early but there was a gratifying feeling about it. Driving through the dark cool air, when most people were sleeping. We arrived and I went through the multiple security check areas and before I knew it, I was in the sky again. Flying to a new city.

Osman: Chapter 1: Leaving Adana

Chapter 1 takes place in Adana, where my journey began.

I sat in a dark room, and with each sound of a car driving by my ears perked up. With each car stopping, doors slamming then followed by voices I slowed my breathing and waited to see if they would come to my door. I was leaving my company and they knew I was leaving but they didn’t know how soon. I had lied and told them I was in Istanbul and that I would be back on Monday. They were trying to force me to pay several thousand Ottoman Lira for payments they had made while I was at their school. Therefore, from the evening time until late night I left my light off in case they came by to check and see if I was there.

A picture of a kro I found on google. Not my landlord though.

There was also the landlord. He was an ignorant man, yet very strong with a short temper. A typical “kro” from Adana, who would walk around town with prayer beads in his hand, attend Friday prayer but that was as far as his religious life went. He had been one of the reasons I was leaving, taking months to fix basic needs and as his apathy ascended, so did the company’s apathy. If he came early, then I would have to come up with a story to tell him about why the company hadn’t paid the rent or the monthly bills, and how I didn’t owe them.

I eat a lot of vegetables.

It was around seven pm in the evening, when I decided to cook something for dinner. I only lit the room with the cooking stove’s light and cooked a chicken salad. As I sat down at the small table in the center of my living room there were footsteps at the door. My neck craned to the left and I peered towards the sound. But the steps continued to the neighbor’s door. I was on the first floor of the apartment and had one neighbor on the right side. With the chance of someone else coming, I switched the stove light off again. The only light now was the glare from my Alien ware laptop’s screen. It had been my only source of entertainment for the past week or so. I was mostly writing, editing or playing games from time to time, if the Internet allowed it. That was another reason I had started looking for a new job. In my only free time, I came home to write and then any leisure time was spent looking at a loading screen or pressing reconnect.

Ah a calendar, one of the worst inventions of all time.

Soon I would be free. I only had to make it forty-eight hours and I would walk out the door with my bags, take a taxi to a hotel, and then stay there seven days before I headed to Antalya. That was another problem. When I left the apartment, the landlord would see me with two large traveling bags and might come asking about the rent or where I was going. I looked up hotels nearby and planned to go there a day early if I could find one.

He’s saying “yok”.

Thus, I walked out around noon to search for the ones I had found on my phone’s map app. There was a nice hotel about half a kilometre away but when I arrived at the reception desk nobody spoke English and when I asked them about a room, they waved their hands left and right wildly and said “yok”. That of course means “no” or “none” in Ottoman. I would have to stay in my apartment for one more day and leave in broad daylight and hope that my landlord didn’t try to chase me down.

Ok, so I wasn’t wearing flip flops…

By noon on the day I would leave, there had not been any knocks on the door and all my things were packed. I prepared my two bags in a way that I could grab them quickly and leave down the steps as fast as possible. As I swung the bags out the door, I put the key in the keyhole and left it there. Then I clambered down the steps and walked at a hastened pace down the road. There was a commotion on the balcony and yelling. I walked casually as if everything was fine and kept going. Some moments later I was rounding the corner, crossing the street and going down another. I finally felt free and only had to make it to the corner where the taxis waited every day.

A typical Turkish cab driver. Friendly and chatty.

If they had seen me, they had been too slow, as it wasn’t long before I was sitting in the front seat of a rolling taxicab and being asked questions in broken English. They were the most popular questions I heard while living in The Ottoman Empire. “What’s name?” “What are you from?” “You like Ottoman Empires?” “Why Ottoman?” For the next twenty minutes of the taxi drive I spoke in broken Ottoman to him and changed my English to a broken version and we conversed all the way to the hotel.

AH look at the beauty, I can almost smell it.

The cab drove down road after road with rubbish on the side of the road and buildings with such a lack of maintenance that it looked like it had recently been through a fire. You could smell the smog in the air, and we stopped just short of a warehouse. There was a sign pointing around a corner that read, “hotel parking” to the right of the warehouse. Right before you turned into a car garage there was a sign that said: “Empire’s Lux”. I thanked the cab driver and once we confirmed that it was the right place, I took my bags inside. As he sped away, I opened my nostrils and breathed in the smog, yet in this moment it didn’t smell like smog to me. It smelled like freedom. It smelled like a new adventure.

Osman: Prologue

A story of my adventure on the Ottoman Empire’s first oil ship as an English teacher.

The Ottoman Empire in 1914.

The year is 2019 and The Ottoman Empire remains intact. In the year 1914 the Ottoman Empire failed to join the Central Powers even though they had a secret agreement with them. German and Austro-Hungarian officials were both shocked and angered by this but had their hands full with the Allied Powers. However, these Allied Powers were on edge due to the uncertainty of what the Ottomans would do. Thus, in the autumn of 1915 Mehmet V, the sultan of Turkey at the time, was assassinated by Greek and British agents. Ismail Enver Pasha took over the country and declared a state of emergency. While remaining neutral during World War I, The Ottoman Empire started to see a huge descent in their economy’s efficiency. In a meeting between military officials, including officers as low as lieutenant, they began to discuss the country, the economy and drastic changes. The first step of action was to give Arabic states autonomous freedom, while The Ottoman Empire still controlled their foreign policies. The next step was to modernize the country.

Mustafa Kemal

One young officer by the name of Mustafa Kemal, caught the eye of the grand pasha Ismail Enver and he was allowed to start a committee which worked solely on the modernization of The Empire. Over the next decade they improved their education, added more modern fashion and religious ideals to the country. In 1923 Ismail Enver Pasha retired as leader of The Ottoman Empire and appointed Mustafa Kemal the leader. Mustafa Kemal continued his work towards modernizing the country and also took up the path of secularizing it. He banned certain religious garments and put focus on less religious subjects in schools. He also created a more modern form of writing which made it easier for Ottoman people to read and write. With the death of Mustafa Kemal in 1938, the country decided to do away with their authoritarian government style and attempted to copy a western democratic system. From the 1960s to the 1970s they also gave each Arabic country their own true independence.

Osman traveling through the Mediterranean Sea

In the year 2019 The Ottoman Empire is on a quest to find oil in the Mediterranean Sea, under the orders of their new president Recep Tayip Erdogan. They have just recently sent out their first oil ship named “Osman” to do experimental drilling. The purpose of the drilling is to see what is in the waters near The Ottoman Empire and around the island of Cyprus. The country of Cyprus has complained but the European Union does not support them, and The Ottoman Empire ignores them. Half the crew on Osman is Ottoman and the rest are a mix of different foreign nationalities. Many of these Ottoman workers lack the English skills that are needed to communicate with the foreign workers. Therefore, they have created an English program on the ship and hired several English teachers to teach in the workers off hours. In this book I hope to tell you my tales of working and teaching English on The Ottoman Empire’s first oil ship: Osman.

Why would you choose to be a foreigner?

Would you choose to be a foreigner, just like this handsome guy?

Being a foreign, can sometimes be a dangerous thing. In some countries it could Lead to depression, helplessness or death, so why would anyone want to be one?

You want to be unique!

Stop being just another umbrella in the crowd…

Just another boring white guy

In America I was just another white guy, that was until I went to a country with fewer white people.

Don’t open your mouth, or they’ll know you’re a foreigner!

There were also times in Norway and Poland where I felt unique, but I had to open my mouth for them to realize I wasn’t a Pole or Norwegian. There is something to be said about feeling unique, feeling useful or feeling important and being a foreigner can certainly bring about those feelings.

You want an affordable lifestyle!

Live an affordable lifestyle and become a goblin king!

Look at that receding hairline. Probably the result of all the stress and violence in the USA.

In America I worked one summer at a gas station. I made $2,200 a month and after taxes I got around $1,600. My cost of living was around $900 a month, as a single person living in Alaska (the third most expensive state in the US). Many countries out in the world have a much higher quality of life, due to the lower cost of living.

Lots of money. Something a goblin king might own.

In Istanbul I was living on an average of $381. In Saudi Arabia, I spend around $300 (It would be more, but my company pays for my rent). While in Poland my cost of living was about $500 a month. Another thing to note, as an American living abroad, you don’t owe any income taxes over the yearly threshold. The threshold for 2019 was $104,000.

You want true Freedom!

Ah, freedom. Something a lot of people like to talk about. Yet, few experience it.

With the money saved from the better qualify of life, it not only leads to freedom of time but also to the freedom of movement. By needing less money to pay for rent, food and transportation, a person can focus their time in other areas. This means they can work less, travel more, or work on skills and new career paths.

You want to take more risks!

*Clack, clack* Throw them dice!

If you are easily afraid, sitting on a comfy chair slowly mowing down your fingernails with your teeth. Then, perhaps you shouldn’t try to be a foreigner, or try to live abroad. It can be scary, taking a step across a border, or flying through the air, looking down and seeing a brand-new town.

“It sure looks scary out there.”

A town with nothing but strangers, unreadable language, and new sights and smells. Each time I have flown to a new state or country, the thought in my mind as I looked down at the new country through my airplane window has been “What am I doing?” Yet, one who never gambles, never tosses dice, only gets to live once, not thrice. I started my journey 6 years ago, and as I left New York City in 2014, I only had $2,500 in my bank account. Today I have over five times that and it is only continuing to grow. I don’t say that to brag, but to show what potential there is out there.

You want to diversify your life!

Nothing like drinking a different cup of coffee every morning!

“What are you doing today?”

“Nothing.”

If you are bored of the same people, the same races, the same faces and everyday bullshit. Then, why not diversify your life? Some days you will feel helpless, other days clueless but as you learn how to adapt to foreign cultures and situations, you will also improve your own situation. You are not a tree, you can move. You are not a rock and you can do more than roll! You were born in your country, but that doesn’t mean you have to die there. Why lie in your casket, with only an unfinished bucket list and lots of dreams that never became a reality? New languages, foods, men and women await! They are waiting to tell you their history, their traditions and most importantly. Their story.

The 5 most productive things to do during Covid19

Beautiful virus molecules, aren’t they colorful?

During COVID19, also known as Corona Virus, a lot of citizens are either under lock-down, or are being advised to stay indoors. Perhaps you are one of them, and are wondering what you can do to pass the time? I’ve gathered a list of 5 things, you can do that will make your life more productive while locked inside. Also, note that I am doing all 5 of these things and wouldn’t advise you to do something that I’m not doing.

1.) Exercise

Exercise is healthy for your body and also for your mental health.

Try to exercise once a day, if not more than once a day. You don’t need a bike, a gym or weights to exercise. You also don’t even need to go outside!

Every morning I pull 5 coins out of my wallet and put them on the table. Then throughout the day I work out and each time I do, I put a coin back in my wallet. I make sure to exercise at least 5 times a day. Now these are extremely short work outs that take 2-3 minutes to do.

I have two work out sessions and I rotate them each day.

Day 1: I do 40 push-ups and then I lift a 5 liter water jug 20 times. I filled one of my water jugs with tap water and I keep it in a corner and never drink it. This 5 liter jug of water can be used for a lot of different exercises.

Day 2: I do 10 sit ups, 30 bicycle crunches, 10 second leg raise (lie down, put your arms at your sides and lift your legs, then hold this position), then I do 30 ab twists (sit on the ground, put your hands together and then rotate quickly from the right and left side of your body) and then I finish it with a 30 second plank.

Both very simple and short exercise routines that anyone can do.

2.) Gain more knowledge

Einstein says imagination is more important than knowledge. That being said, it is still important.

Gain knowledge! you hear lots of people talk about knowledge all the time. There are memes about it, movies about it, as well as drunks in bars slurring words together about it.

What better time than being locked up in your house will you ever have to “gain more knowledge”?

Put that wine case or bottle of Jim Beam down, turn off whatever netflix show you are watching and get started!

Some of the simplest ways to gain knowledge:

1.) Read books

2.) www.google.com

3.) Youtube videos

I personally have been looking for knowledge in two areas and I’ve even created youtube playlists where I keep most of the information.

Investing:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLy8f0x3AC3M2NBBrLFUM98twh7VIYAlyC

I am planning to start investing each month this fall, so I am learning as much as I can about it. I started around February, so this playlist is a bit longer than the other one.

Space Research:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLy8f0x3AC3M0AtOdriy-uy8P48L1yvAtq

Not only do I love space in general, but I am also going to write a book series in the future, that has to do with science and outer space. I started this about 3 weeks ago. The book probably won’t get started until 2024 or 2025, but I am starting the research early.

3.) Improve or gain new skills

Skills can pay the bills.

Skills or hobbies are great things to hone or gain during this lockdown. If you have used the excuse, “I would love to do X but I don’t have time” well, now you do!

The skills I have been working on, are writing, editing, and advertising.

I am actually doing this all the time (and have been on schedule the past year or so), but I have even more time for it now. I have been testing social media advertisements, as well as writing a poem a week and editing my book that will be released late summer or early fall of this year.

4.) Create a routine

No one ever gained success by being spontaneous

With the stress of work, social obligations etc, sometimes it is hard to start a healthy lifestyle or routine. However, with no job or social opportunities, you now have the chance to start! Plan every day to get something done, then think of how you can continue this while managing friendships, work, and other things.

5.) Catch up with old friends

Talking to someone can be a great stress reliever

Sometimes, life happens and you can’t keep up with everyone. During Covid19, it can be possible to browse facebook and message those friends, 90% of which you probably just ignore. Why not send a message to one new person a day and see how they are doing? During covid19 I have skyped with a few friends and FB messaged a few as well. I haven’t done it as much as I should, but it is a start.

Stay safe and keep others safe!

Thank you for reading! Now make sure to stay safe, and protect others too. I will see you in next week’s blog :)

The 10 most annoying people you will meet abroad

Sit down kid.

In today’s blog, I will introduce you to 10 annoying tourist/expat types I have met. They are annoying to me, perhaps you are one of them, or enjoy being around them. No offense taken, we all have different personalities and styles. These are in no particular order.

The explainer

We have all been introduced to the concept of the “mansplainer” quite recently. While abroad, the “explainers” are usually male but once in awhile they can be female too. They are usually aged 30+ and will tell you about things you aren’t even interested in, over explain a question, or force their own theory or life philosophy on you.

The camera champion

We all love photos don’t we? Not as much as this guy/girl. They take photos of everything. They often bring an expensive camera everywhere and take 100-500 pictures a day. It is as if they can’t enjoy a location or country without snapping 1000 shots.

The cultural copy cat

Look at these cute cats, which one do you think is the native and which one is the copy cat? The copy cat is on the left. They know everything about the country/culture, perhaps more than a native. They usually gain fluency quite rapidly and want to blend in with the country so far that it will be impossible to tell they aren’t originally from that country. There is nothing wrong with a little bit of pandering, but these copy cats have gone in deep. They will also try to make other expats feel bad that they haven’t gone as far as them.

The social Chameleon

These expats want to be friends with everyone, even if they are friends with two different groups who hate each other. They go to the extent of holding back their own opinion, just so that everyone will like them. This usually has a negative effect. as they are seen as being fake.

The History buff

There’s nothing wrong with loving history, I for one love it too. However, these “history buffs” take it to a whole new level. There is rarely a moment where they stop discussing the history of the country. They love going to historical sites, but that is not the only place where they flaunt their expertise. They will also mention people who visited or did different things at certain locations. Such as a restaurant, shop, district etc. There is no stopping them. Their talent is endless.

Nostalgic dude

In fact, I’ve never met a woman like this, so that’s why I call it “dude”. Usually they have lived in the country or visited it frequently over a course of 5-15 years. They have seen many changes and most of their conversations revolve around the past and how the country or city used to be. I have personally met a few who lived in a country for 5, 7, 14, and 20 years. While it is nice to learn about how the country used to be, at some point you have to move on from the past.

The political activist

I enjoy discussing politics, and I feel if you don’t then you are missing out. However, these activists come in two forms. A.) They find a way to fit politics into almost every conversation. B.) They bring their politics from the west and try to influence the said culture. Often, getting involved with protests, putting their life in harms way, or getting involved with politics that they have no business meddling with.

It’s hard to say which one is more annoying but both are wise to be avoided in my opinion.

The chronic complainer

Obviously, I am complaining in this blog post (in a way). I think it is ok to complain. No country is perfect (including yours). That being said, constantly complaining is annoying. Stop it! Stop right now!

The traveler

We all have our own styles. The traveler is no different. They spend little time in one place. When they visit a country or live in a country they visit as many cities and locations as possible. Spending almost no time there or really getting to know the area. For me, I am less annoyed at them and more sad for them. In my opinion they do not get to know a country or culture that well.

The ultra-mega optimist

“This country is perfect” they might say. In my experience, these people are usually married, engaged or have a boyfriend/girlfriend in the country. This kind of gives them a biased view towards the country, as they have a guide and a large group (the significant other’s family) who are hospitable towards them much longer than a normal tourist or expat would be experiencing hospitality. You can’t criticize the country in front of this person. Because the country “is perfect” and they will argue with you, letting you know how/why. In my experience, they aren’t always married or involved with some one romantically, but they usually are. It also worth noting that not all married/engaged expats in different countries are like this.

That’s it!

Thanks for reading! if you made it through the list, let me know what you think about these types of expats and if you agree/disagree with me on them. At times I have been one of these expats too! So of course we can’t judge too much.

Caves

Caves

What lies in these dark holes?

A nice look out of a cave’s window.

Caves: could be a dream or a nightmare, depending what brings you fear or happiness. They are formed by bodies of water below the surface. Sometimes there are holes and crevices which are connected over thousands of miles.

What beautiful water, would you like to have a drink?

Most caves have water, or had it at some point. It can be shallow or deep. Slosh through it, swim in it or bring a canoe.

Perhaps a great thing to put in your mcdonald’s drink.

Caves always have formations, others prefer ice. However, touching them can stop the formation or cause melting. The oils in your hands have a negative affect on the formations’ growth.

Light glaring into a cave.

Once in awhile, a cave has light. Peering through the ceiling, checking out what’s in the dark. It can be a breath of fresh air for a cave dweller/explorer.

Bright objects reflecting/saving light or a camera’s flash lighting up the cavern?

However, sometimes there can be too much light! Reflecting from white or light colored objects. Could also be a hole, a natural window opening up in the distance.

I can smell danger! It smells delicious!

Look out though! Danger below! Rickety rocks, slippery stones, could send you sliding to your doom! Other creatures crawl and prowl around, hoping to feast on you in this dark tomb.

A big bear, waking up, ready for a snack.

A thousand eyes staring, perhaps, they are caring?

Different sized teeth ready to gnaw, depends on their size and strength of their mouth’s jaw.

A man smiling, perhaps getting excited about putting this picture on Instagram.

This man, might be considering his next vacation in the Bahamas, at this moment.

Something even more dangerous than animals, tightly pressing crevices and small cracks, just enough space to give a claustrophobic man or woman a heart attack. Crawl with caution, crawl with pleasure, you can feel the earth rattle, perhaps it is a car driving right above!

A cave beneath a glacier in Antarctica.

Calm down and be cool for a second, look at a photo from Antarctica. There is a cave beneath a glacier, ready to be explored. Perhaps there is life down there deep inside. No one will really know, until the ice caps melt.

Now there’s some space, in this cave.

Thanks for reading my blog about caves. Now, how about you, which kind of cave would you like to crawl or hike around in? Or would you prefer to stay out of them completely?

72 hours with a boomer: Episode 4

The 4th and final episode of the story of my adventures with a boomer in Bangkok Thailand

Is it just me, or do other people also hate voice messages on whatsapp?

I woke up the next morning, and wasn’t sure how long to expect a message about my visa. Yet, there was a message waiting for me, quite early. My visa was approved, I was to come and pick my passport up at the embassy and get on a flight that evening at 7pm.

I went downstairs, the lobby was empty, and there was no sign of The Boomer. I went down the narrow alleyways and made my way to the main road. I came to the market area where I had eaten the street food with The Boomer before.

A wonderful mango smoothie

I picked up a mango smoothie and got some kind of breaded fried meat strips. The meat strips came with a bunch of rice. I got the order to go and headed back to the hotel.

Breaded fried strips. They look much better than the low quality ones I had. They also came with rice.

I found out as I was eating the strips, that they were probably pork. The rice was all stuck together and a bit cold. The breakfast of champions. The mango smoothie had a strange taste to it, perhaps due to the smog that swirled around the streets of the city. I went downstairs and had the hotel reception order a grab taxi. Grab was an app, kind of like “Uber”.

A boomer laughing

While waiting downstairs, The Boomer came walking through the front door. I told him of my plans. He said he didn’t have a lot of money, so he would take the sky train. I thought that since I was paying anyway, having company could be good. I asked him if he wanted to come with me, the grab taxi was already on the way anyway and I would pay for it 100%. He agreed and a few moments later he returned with his bag.

A Thai taxi, they drive on the wrong side of the road.

I started to get in the taxi from the right side, but there was a steering wheel waiting for me. The driver laughed and asked me, If I wanted to drive. I got into the other side and The Boomer, got in the back.

The road to Bangkok airport

The Boomer was quiet for most of the trip and I chatted with the driver from time to time. The Boomer interjected sometimes and talked to the driver about how Bangkok used to be. The driver agreed and told me about rural towns and other cities outside of Bangkok that he described as being better and being the “real” Thai experience. I promised him, I would go there next time. He continued to discuss programs where you could learn how to cook Thai food. For $50 you could go to an old Thai woman’s house and she would teach you how to cook a meal and then afterwards you would eat together. You could also bring a friend, he mentioned. it wasn’t long before we arrived at the airport and were onto the next part of our journey.

Dubai airport in the morning

We arrived in Dubai around 2am, and had to wait out a 3 hour layover. We had a quick meal, which led to an hour conversation. The Boomer spoke again about his island in the Philippines and about things going on there.

A man nodding off at an airport

The Boomer didn’t take long to drift off to sleep. I was forced to figure out how to stay awake for another 2 hours.

The Little prince, a children’s book.

I pulled out a book that had been given to me as a gift back in Istanbul by an Iranian girl I had met. I spent about an hour and a half reading it. When I was close to finishing it the sun was coming up and The Boomer was waking up. Another boomer had arrived and they were chatting, telling me about the adventures and experiences I was about to have in Saudi Arabia.

Seats on a plane, aren’t they beautiful?

On the plane, I sat next to a middle aged black man. He turned out to be one of my new colleagues. We chatted for most of the trip from Dubai to Riyadh. He looked like he was in his late thirties but turned out to be 49.

A desert near Riyadh

I could see Riyadh near the symbol on the plane’s screen showing its location. Yet, all I could see below was desert. A creamy sandy dessert. I wondered where the city was.

Riyadh from above

Then the city came into clear view. There were mostly small and medium sized buildings and a few towers. Most of the buildings were the same colors: white, cream or dark brown. We landed and soon another adventure was about to begin! Sadly, this is where the story of The Boomer ends.

Thank you for reading -also check out keepcalmandposters.com where I got this photo.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed these four episodes about my 72 hours with a boomer. If you missed the first episode you can go here: First episode.

Also if you want to see more of my blogs, stories, or book releases you can go to the facebook page and like it.

72 hours with a boomer: Episode 3

Welcome to episode 3, of my current traveling series. It is about a boomer I met while waiting in Thailand for my Saudi Visa to go through.

Another morning in Bangkok Thailand.

I woke up the next morning. The sun was shining through my windows and birds were chirping. I could hear a mix of voices and commotion in the distance. I went downstairs to ask the desk attendant about laundry. As I was turning to go back upstairs, the boomer came in the door. He talked to me for about five minutes and told me that he could show me around the town. To give him twenty minutes and come to his room.

A messy hotel room, similar to the boomer’s abode.

At 12:30 pm, I made my way to his room. He was in a different block, a block that was still under construction. I knocked on his door, and about 10 seconds later, he opened the door. He was shirtless and wearing gym shorts. He sat down on his bed and talked to me for about 15 minutes. As I listened and looked around, his hotel was in a bit of a mess. As we got close to 20 minutes, he put a shirt on and we headed off to the sky train.

The Bangkok sky train.

A map showing the routes of the sky train lines.

It was about a 5 minute walk to the train. The boomer took about another 5 minutes to explain the lines and how the ticket system and pricing worked. We went to the booth and bought our tickets.

Entry to the sky train

It wasn’t long until we made it to the entrance and got our tickets punched. They had a much more advanced system than what I had been used to in Istanbul with the metro lines and metro bus.

Thai people sitting on the sky train.

As we sat on the train, it moved rapidly from stop to stop. He talked about the line, his past years in Thailand and the malls that we could go to.

A Thai girl on her phone.

That was until there was a slightly pretty girl who caught his eye. One of the things I noticed about The Boomer is that he didn’t hesitate to talk to total strangers. She was on her phone for awhile, and he teased her. “People never get off their phones nowadays do they?” he asked openly. She blushed and after more prodding she laughed and put her phone in her pocket. We didn’t have more time for conversation, as we rolled into our stop and got off.

A mall in Bangkok, probably not the one we went to.

The mall lie in the distance. Inside there were many floors and foreigners walking around. There were clothing shops, food shops, restaurants, toy shops and more.

Some guy in a Thai tailored suit.

There were several tailor shops. As we passed them, the guy hawked and tried to get us to interact with him. The Boomer had no problem with this and they talked for several minutes.

The view from a top floor of a mall in Bangkok.

We walked around for several hours, stopping in a few shops and browsing the items. The Boomer continued his stories of women and Thailand and started to talk to me about lady boys.

A Thai Lady Boy

It is in the ankle bones apparently

He talked about how to spot a lady boy. As we walked around, he started talking to one woman. After we left her shop, where she was offering samples, he told me that she was a lady boy. He gave me some tips on what to look for, saying that it was mostly in the feet. That a man’s ankle bones looked a certain way. After walking around for another hour, we decided to have lunch. However, The Boomer didn’t have a lot of money, so we settled for ice cream.

mmmmm ice cream.

We both got some ice cream and then sat and talked for almost two hours. He started again with his normal mantras, but this time he went in a little deeper. Telling me about how to pick up a Thai girl and how much money to offer her. I realized that he wasn’t a play boy as I had thought, but more of a traveler who just picked up hookers.

Engagement and wedding rings

He went in a bit deeper. Telling me that it didn’t matter if the woman was married, engaged, or had a boy friend. If the price was right, she would be down for anything. He went on to say, “the men don’t get upset about it either.”

Talking to a random stranger, what a rush of adrenaline. Especially if they are beautiful or handsome.

Another point of emphasis, was not being afraid to talk to strangers. He often mentioned how people are scared of strangers and that they shouldn’t be. He definitely lived up to his word, as he talked to strangers throughout the day.

Fast and furious 8. My favorite part is when they are riding over the ice.

The Boomer was bored of talking and walking around, so he suggested that we watch a movie. After spending half an hour looking at the options, we settled on “Fast and Furious 8”. It was a little bit long, but an enjoyable movie. By the time it was over, it was getting dark outside and raining. We caught the sky train again and headed back to the hotel.

A 7-11 in Thailand

We made our way back to the hotel on foot after exciting the sky train. There were deep puddles everywhere, and we stopped in a 7-11 to escape the rain. I was also interested in getting something for dinner.

Noodle options in a 7-11.

We browsed for 5 or 10 minutes and I settled on two coconut cream filled chocolate bars and a bowl of spicy noodles. The worker even offered to warm it up for me. I obliged and we headed back to the last trek of the journey to the hotel. I had a nice dinner and called it a night, shortly later. Slipping into a dream, with my mouth still burning from the noodles.

It’s that time again.

That’s it for this week. Next time, I will be writing the last episode. Hope you enjoyed the story up to now and look forward to you reading next weeks episode too!

72 hours with a boomer: Episode 2

The continued story of my 3 day stay in Thailand and adventures with an old stranger.

Welcome back for the second episode of my travel story, where I visited Thailand and met a stranger. Last week I made it to Bangkok, visited the embassy, and ran into the boomer on the steps of the embassy. This is where the adventure began.

A few visa documents.

The boomer and I headed back to the embassy with our documents. We both just needed to bring photographs, which we both had left back at the hotel in the morning. Nothing too important happened. We crossed the bridge across the road, handed in our photos and headed back towards the hotel. I was started to get hungry and the boomer was in the midst of a tale about the old days in Thailand, how it used to be much cheaper until all the foreigners flocked there and ruined it. I asked him if he was hungry, and asked him which place he recommended to eat at. He told me, I could check out the sit down restaurants. Then he grimaced, “They’re a bit overpriced though. I can live on 50 Baht a day with street food,” he claimed.

Thai street food.

There were many options, but we settled on a bazaar style setup. There was a small corridor that lead to a wide open area inside. It had a cement floor, lots of different food wagons with a variety of food options. There were around two dozen blue tables for people to sit at too. Much of the food was similar in nature varying in quality. Smoothies, breaded fried meat/seafood, and vegetable/noodles or vegetable/rice mixes.

Some kind of Thai lunch.

I had a hard time deciding what to eat. I turned around and the boomer had disappeared. I settled on something similar to what you see in the photo above. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was eating, but went to search for a table. I thought the boomer had already seated, but I still couldn’t find him. I found a table on the edge that had a street view. There were around half a dozen Thai school girls sitting there. They were smiling big, giggling and chatting nervously. I sat a chair down from them, and they didn’t seem to mind.

Pick your choice of slow painful liquid death.

Finally, the boomer sat down. He had a bowl of soup, some rice and two large bottles of soda. It would be a custom for him. Later, each time I saw him shopping in Saudi Arabia, he always had several 2 liter bottles of soda and bags of chips. After repeating his earlier discussion about how he could live on 50 Baht ($1.50) a day, he started to ask me about which school I was going to work for and tell me about his teaching experiences. I told him, that I would be working for TPSU and it was my first year. He complained that they only hired young people at the university and that’s why he was working at IBS. He had been teaching in Saudi Arabia now for 7 years and working on his house in the Philippines.

What I imagined when he said he was building a house on an island. This is in Iceland though, not the Philippines.

His house was close to being completed. He was working in Saudi Arabia to pay for it and was now low on cash. He talked about the old days of Thailand and how the Philippines was now better, before returning to discuss his house.

Some random Philippe-no girl’s picture I found on Google.

Male Philippe-no labor workers, who work for $6 a day in their home country.

He went into more detail about girls in the Philippines and how cheap the labor for his house was. Then he went on a rambling tangent about how you needed a family member to guard the house while you were gone, because if not then the neighbors would break in and steal everything.

An Indian guy with a shirt made of gold.

Complaining about the thieves, led him to talk again about working in Saudi Arabia. First he talked about the Pakistani and Indian workers, who he claimed “still looked dirty even after showering”.

A photo of two Muslim reverts, found on google.

Then he discussed the other teachers and their rides to school on the bus. At the moment, I had decided not to reveal that I was a Muslim revert. He told me that there was segregation and on the teacher buses, with reverts sitting in the front and non-Muslim teachers sitting in the back. He claimed they thought they were too good for the non-Muslim westerners, seen as being dirty Kafirs (infidels). It’s worth noting that while working in Saudi Arabia and riding the same teacher’s bus I never noticed this.

Arabic students. Image found on google.

His next target were his students. Saying “you have to be man, squash them like a bug. You can’t take no shit from them.” He also warned me never to get close to students or teachers, because they would try to get you to do something stupid or say something stupid and then get you fired.

Some Thai girls.

Finally, he returned to his favorite topic. Telling me about all the Thai women that he had slept with. Also, he told me “When I walk into a club or bar. I look around and find the one I want, and I know I’m getting that one.” He gave me lots of tips for picking up girls, but most of it revolved around just offering money. “They usually cost 1,000-1,500 Baht ($30-45),” he said several times throughout that first day.

Sometimes, it’s best to keep an invisible piece of duck tape over one’s mouth.

Now, I attempted to speak once in awhile, but I was just cut off and he continued rambling. After forty minutes or so of him talking he would stop. It was in these pockets of time, where I realized I was now allowed to talk. That is until I said something interesting enough, for him to start talking again. I could expect him to then ramble about various topics for 30-40 minutes.

Sadly, it is that time again. For you to see the sad picture with the dreaded words “to be continued”.

The last thing that happened that first day. He invited me to come to his room the next day. He told me that he would take me to “some spots” and introduce me to the Bangkok sky train. I wondered what these “spots” what these “stomping grounds” could be.

That is it for today’s episode. What will the spots be? How does the sky train work? You’ll have to wait until next week!

72 hours with a boomer: Episode 1

A boomer and a millennial chatting. This is not the boomer from the story, just a google image.

Today I am going to start the first of a three part blog story called “72 hours with a boomer”. It is the story of a boomer I met while in Thailand in the late summer of 2019. I have changed job names, hotel names, company names and the name of the boomer in the story. Here is the look of those things you may find in the story:

The boomer: A large man, shaved head, tattoos and a body showing past gym work that has somewhat faded.

Nawaf: A Saudi worker, who works in the embassy in Bangkok

We slept you: A hotel in the backstreets of the business district where we were given board by the Saudi company. About a five minute to the Saudi Embassy in Bangkok.

Rank1teachers inc: The company me and the boomer now work for.

Thobe and Shmaq professional University: The Saudi University I work for. Called TSPU.

International Bedouin school: The secondary school for failed students and for teacher who The Saudi Company don’t want working at the Saudi University. Called IBS.

Ok, now that we are familiar, let us begin.

Beylikduzu, near Eski Beylikduzu/Esenyurt, where I was living at the beginning of this story.

The story actually begins in Istanbul, Turkey. I was working for an overseas English school. I worked for 28 days on an oil ship as an English teacher, teaching Kurdish, Azerbaijani, and Turkish workers. Then I was supposed to get 28 days of vacation time off the ship and on shore. No matter where I lived, they would pay for my flights, taxis and hotels on my way to the ship. During my onshore time I was staying in a lesser known area of Istanbul called “Esenyurt”, which is near Beylikduzu.

The location of Beylikduzu/Esenyurt in Istanbul.

It was getting close to the end of my onshore time, but there was one small problem. The company I was employed with, had a contract with the ship and the contract was ending. I also had a 4 month preliminary contract and that was also going to end after my next offshore trip. A friend kept asking me what I was going to do if the contract ended, but I was sure it would continue. Still, to be safe I considered teaching online. After doing some research it seemed like I could make more than enough money doing that, so I made that my backup plan.

Fatih, Turkey’s first oil drilling ship. I spent 70 days there in total.

However, on this trip, I started to get annoyed at my company. They wanted daily lesson plans emailed, and kept me on the ship for 5 weeks instead of 4. I also, was annoyed at them, as every time I gave them feedback they just down played it or ignored it. In my mind, I started planning to not renew my contract, and decided I would pursue the online teaching gig. Even though, I decided this, I thought it was a bad idea to tell them early. I didn’t want it to affect my salary, or transportation getting back to Istanbul.

My online teaching setup.

Back in Istanbul, I set off to setup my online teaching background and also applied to work at three different online companies. The interviews went well, but there were some technical problems. They wanted me to have a 120 hour TEFL and I only had a 100 hour one. PayPal was banned in Turkey. The only option was to do a wire transfer to pay for the company’s online TEFL course. I went to the bank but they refused to do the transfer, saying that I had to do it online because it was cheaper. They were right of course, it was $75 to do the wire transfer inside the bank, and only $25 online.

I decided to try another online company. This time they accepted my TEFL but the interviewer seemed disinterested the entire time and they offered me the base pay. They wanted a criminal background check done from the US, but at the time I didn’t have a bank or credit card, so it was impossible to pay for one.

I sat thinking about how hard doing online teaching was in Turkey. Also, after reading about the stress and problems teachers were having while teaching online, I thought a bit. “Why work for $2,800 a month online, when I could just go to Oman or Saudi Arabia and make the same money?” Thus, I set off to apply for teaching jobs.

It wasn’t hard to get a job offer from Saudi Arabia. I was teacher with 5 years of teaching experience at that time, so I applied for 12 jobs in Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Oman. In 24 hours I heard back from 3 jobs in Saudi Arabia. I chose a company called “Rank1teachers.” I was then told I needed to start the visa process at the Saudi Embassy, by the company’s visa agent.

America, or America?

The people at the embassy and the visa process center both told me that I couldn’t apply for a visa in Turkey, but would need to return to the USA to do the visa. The visa agent at rank1teachers kept working for a solution, but then I didn’t hear from him for awhile.

Some current jobs on a job site for ESL teachers called “Tefl.com”

With my savings dwindling down to $1,500, I was getting a bit desperate. The truth was that in Turkey, my personal cost of living every month was $381. This meant I still had a good 4-6 months left of savings, but I was in a bit of a panic anyhow. I applied for every job I could find on TEFL.com and a few other ESL job finding sites. I had around 10 interviews, mostly for jobs in Poland and Russia, but I also had a few from Italy, Kazakhstan and China. The Russian jobs also wanted me to go to the USA to get the visa, the Italian job interviewer asked me if I knew how to do the visa process as an American (she didn’t know). Finally, the Polish job interviews went well, but in the end I wasn’t able to get either of those either.

A couple of Whatsapp voice messages

After applying for around 81 jobs, doing a little over a dozen interviews and being out of almost all options, I got a voice message from Nawaf, the visa agent from “Rank1teachers”. He gave me an offer, that I couldn’t refuse. He would fly me to Thailand and pay for the ticket, I would pay for my hotel and he would do he visa in Thailand. Then after the visa was completed he would fly me to Riyadh. At first, I was a little bit afraid, not knowing what was going to happen. However, he was paying for he flight, so I thought in the worst case scenario, I could find a job in Thailand or return to Turkey and teach there if it didn’t work out. I told him, “send me the flight information and I will do it.”

A Thai plane, soaring through the sky.

I packed my essentials, gave my key to a close Turkish friend, and told him to keep it and if the visa was successful to give it to my landlord. He agreed and the landlord also agreed.

Less than 48 hours later, I was soaring through the sky and ready to flip through the time zones. When I landed, I would be in a region I had never been in before, with no internet or phone plan, no idea how to get around, and nothing more than the airport WiFi to work with. Surely there would be a line of taxi drivers licking their chops and ready to help me, as soon as I arrived.

My hero, ready to milk me for all I was worth.

When I left the customs area, the airport was large and packed full of people. Surprisingly enough, I was able to get my luggage pretty quickly. I got in a queue to get a taxi driver. My message from Nawaf, told me “see you in thirty minutes”. For some reason, I didn’t believe that was going to happen.

As I drove across Bangkok, I sat wondering how much the fare was going to cost. The ride was at about 2 hours, when we arrived at the embassy, and it was closed.

Thai Motorcyclists and moped drivers.

He took me towards the hotel, which took around 45 minutes to get to (it would take me 7 minutes on foot). The first thing I noticed, was the large amount of people in traffic on motorcycles and mopeds. It was like I was surrounded by a Mongolian horde. Finally, we left the main road and were going down narrow dirt back-roads. When we arrived at the hotel, I expected my fare to cost 1,000 to 2,000 BAHT, but it was only 700 ($21).

A hotel in Thailand called “Pietra”, mine was called “We slept U hotel”.

I stepped out of the cab and gathered my bag. The hotel was called “We slept you Hotel.” I opened the door and prepared “to get slept”. Nawaf had signed me up for 7 days, so it seemed like he expected I would be there at least a week. I got the key and made for my room. The interior was new and nice to look at (unlike the neighborhood).

A familiar sight in Bangkok.

As I laid down to sleep, I knew I was about to sleep well. Then from the neighbor on my left I heard a familiar moaning and knocking sound. Someone next to me was “getting slept”. When they were done (3 minutes later), the other neighbor had a turn. After the battle of the bangs had ended, I did get a really good night’s sleep.

The streets of Bangkok.

The next morning, I got a new message from Nawaf, asking me to come to the embassy again. I told him, “be there in thirty minutes”. I checked the route on google maps. I tried to memorize it, but no matter how long I stared at it, I knew deep down, I was going to be getting lost. Sure enough, things weren’t looking good as I walked around. I asked a few people where the Saudi Embassy was. Finally, someone knew. I made it back to where I had started from, then went the right way.

Nobody was inside, I made my way up the stairs to a room where there were a few people working. Nawaf was there with a large man. He sounded American. He was wearing shorts, a T-shirt and had a shaved head. He was a boomer for sure. I was told by a Thai office worker to have a seat.

It wasn’t long before I was talking to Nawaf, face to face, for the first time. He thanked me for trusting him and told me about how things were going to go. I asked him about half a dozen questions, then he told me what he needed from me. I was to bring it back in the afternoon. With the meeting over, I headed back downstairs. As I walked out of the doors of the embassy, there was the man again. Waiting for me at the corner of the embassy. It was the boomer.

A boomer, shirtless, on a beach somewhere. Not the boomer, who I met.

He was friendly, talking to me as if we had met before. I thought it was slightly awkward, but I had no one else to talk to, so I thought “Might as well”. I told him I was heading back to the hotel and he offered to help me get back there. He told me, he was staying in the same one. On our way back to the hotel he talked my ear off. Both of them, were on the ground by the time we made it to the hotel. It was as if he had been waiting to talk to someone. He talked about his experience in Thailand, China, and got dreamy about the nostalgia from the olden days “before the other tourists came”. When we made it to the hotel, I told him I needed to go back to the embassy with some documents and he said he had the same problem. He talked to me for another 10 minutes in the lobby and then I told him I would meet him in 20 minutes to go back to the embassy.

That’s it for now folks.

Thank you for reading this first episode and making it to this sentence. What will the boomer do to me? What will he talk about? Will we go somewhere?

You’ll have to find out next week, when I post the 2nd episode of this 3 episode story!

All the items I have left from America

Nowadays, being a nomad is more popular than ever. Digital nomads are especially popular. Some come and go, but some who go to far away lands, may never return home again. It’s interesting to see what minimalist nomads keep. What heirlooms, devices and even clothes that remain after several years.

Gathered here, are all the items I have that I have kept, since leaving the US in August 2014.

I am no different. I left the US in August of 2014. New York City was my last stop. I sat on the grass with a guy named John. We took the subway to the airport and soon, I would never seen America again. Here on the bed are all the items I could find, that I still have. In the blog today, I would like to try to show and tell about everything that still remains. The items will be in no particular order. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

A Toshiba external harddrive. It is 1.5 TB and I bought it in 2012, it still works.

This is an external hard drive that I bought during a summer camp in 2012. I had a 500 GB hard drive that was 5 times it size, yet had 1/3 less capacity. The drive still works, and is 8 years old now. I try not to keep anything important on it, that isn’t backed up somewhere else to be safe.

The passport i had when I left in 2014. It is no longer valid.

Here’s my first passport. It is no longer valid. They punch holes in passports when you get a new one. If they hadn’t done that, then I would have had two passports for 6 months.

2008

2018

2019 (Saudi Visa inside the 2018 passport)

Take a look at all the photos, aren’t they beautiful? I feel like I look the youngest in the 2019 visa. What do you think?

A folder.

Here is a folder, from my Theatre UAF days. But, what’s inside?

A UAF alumni bumper sticker.

What it would look like on a car.

Inside the binder there are different portfolios and other documents. Also UAF alumni regalia.

A samsung USB microphone that is now 10 years old.

This is the microphone I used to record the audio for my undergraduate film thesis called Swede Dreams. It was a 9 minute 2-d animation. Nowadays I use this for online classes and recording other things I need to record. It still works well after 10 years of use.

A really old mp3 player.

This was the first mp3 player I ever bought. I still have it for some reason. I bought it back in 2012, when I bought an Iphone 2. The mp3 player came with it for free. I’m sure they were just trying to get rid of them.

A jaw harp

This is a jaw harp that I bought at a folk music festival. It was in Richmond VA inside of a civil war building. I can make some notes with it, but don’t really know how to play any songs.

A lighter, tick scoop and two knives.

These four items, came mostly from America. The lighter, I bought while in Norway. I’ve used it mostly as a bottle cap opener as you can see by the bottom, that looks like its been chewed on. The tick scoop I got while working at a summer camp and I put it to good use. I had 38 ticks that summer. I still have it just in case. I can almost feel them crawling on me now!

The green knife my brother bought me as a gift with my name written on it. The black knife I got in a package of 5 knives from my father. Its been used for many things, including slashing someone’s tires. Nope, I didn’t do it. A friend asked to borrow it and I found out what it was used for later. :/

Sea shells down by the sea shore.

Sea shells collected from the time I was a kid and up to when I was 24 years old. Mostly collected from Myrtle Beach South Carolina and the shores of Northern Norway. (Tomma island and Nesna). Looks like some of them are broken. #sadface.

Some hats.

Three hats from America. The Redskins hat is obvious, I’m a Redskins fan. The knitted hat was made by my great grandmother from Norway. I’m not sure when it was knitted, but I like to tell people “1925”. The last hat was a hat I bought in Alaska, and I get to use sometimes when its cold.

Currencies from half a dozen countries.

Some of these currencies were collected after I left America, but most of them were collected before I left. Here there are currencies from Germany before the EU, America, Norway, Turkey, Thailand, Poland, Hungary, Canada and Brazil.

A young wolf’s head’s skin.

This is a wolf’s head. Ok it’s the wolf’s head’s skin. One year at UAF there was an art class that was giving away different animal skins. One of my Finnish friends named Minerva got a full bear’s skin, and I got this wolf head’s skin. I’ve got an idea of creating a hat with it or maybe a glove, but then I would need a second one.

My mother’s family tree.

My mother is a studier of dead people. Ok, she’s a genealogist. She gave me this copy of her side of the family and their records. According to this, our first white relative was born in the US in 1693. There are some Polish tongue twister names such as: “Zdziarski” and “Wyszk”

A knife I made that started out as a steel 440 block.

This knife took 50 hours to make. It was the second knife I made in a knife making course at UAF. This is a curved blade and has a brass finger guard and a plaster handle. The material it rests on is a piece of the t-shirt I used while making both the knives. It was an old t-shirt that had “You are just jealous because the voices speak to me” written on it.

Here are some more angles, looking at the blade.

Bracelets from “Traena Festival”.

These are bracelets from Traena Festival. I went there in 2009 and 2010. This is a music festival on an island in Northern Norway and of course the island is called “Traena”. Both years I went there were blast. It is mostly drinking and talking, but once in awhile you go down to the concert area and listen to music. There is also a concert in a cave and mountain climbing expeditions.

Man jewelry

From left to right: high school class ring, Thor’s hammer, key chain, and UAF alumni pin. The Thor’s hammer was a replacement for a Thor’s hammer given to me by a woman I met in a German class. It was supposedly blessed to soothe anger, kind of ironic if you think about it.

Friendship bracelets from a camp I worked at in West Virginia.

Now there was a time when I could list the people who gave me these bracelets. Sadly, I can’t remember now. But I do know two of them were given to me by Martina (Friend from Slovakia) and Roman (Friend from the Czech Republic). I think Lukasz (also from Czech Republic) gave me one too.

Civil Air Patrol decorations and rank.

Here are ribbons and rank insignias from a military youth group I was in called Civil Air Patrol (CAP). I was in there for two and a half years. I became the first sergeant of my squadron and reached Chief Master Sergeant rank. I also went to two encampments and logged 240 hours of community service.

A packet of real photos.

Photos I used to keep in my wallet. Now they rest in my heirloom bag. Check below for a look at the individual photos.

All of the photos

Senior prom photo with my date named Christian.

North Carolina encampment ball photo with my date named Margaret. This was in the summer of 2000 and was my second of two encampments that summer.

A photo of my great grand parents. The man is of Irish, French, Powhatan and Cherokee descent. The woman is of Scottish descent. This is according to genealogy records.

My sister named Suzanne.

My brother named Ted and his dog named Shiloh.

Friends from early childhood. The man leaning on the airplane is named Hamilton and was my friend in CAP. The girl in the other two photos is named Rachel and was my pen-pal from 12-15. She was from Kalamazoo Michigan.

My mother named Victoria.

My grandparents on my father’s side. The man named Kenneth is of Norwegian and Danish descent. The woman named Charlotte is a huge mix of Dutch, German, Swedish, Welsh, Irish, Scottish and English.

A Norwegian Christmas tree ornament.

This interesting Norwegian Christmas ornament that I have kept for 8 years has a cool story to it. I was visiting Norway and at my Norwegian relatives farm. We went to one of his friend’s for Christmas eve. They had a dinner and after the dinner we opened presents. One of the presents had instructions written in English but there were some errors. We took turns seeing how many mistakes we could find. I ended up finding 9 and so they let me have one of their ornaments as a reward.

Stuffed animals I kept from my childhood.

These stuffed animals might be older than some people reading. The white dog on the right is 29 years old and the blue dog on the left is 23. I loved the 101 dalmations story as a kid so I got the white puppy who is a character from the movie named “Penny”. She’s got a cracked eye now, but besides that doesn’t look bad. The funky dog on the left is named “Kipp”. He needs some eye and nose work. Besides that he is still pretty fluffy.

Cutco equipment

I used to work for a cutlery company called cutco. I had a sample kit that included these knives and scissors. As an option, you could buy your own sample kit, so I did. I have now had these for 7 years, haven’t sharpened them and they are still sharp. The scissors come apart for easy cleaning and they are pretty strong, as you can cut through pennies with them. The amazing trick only works if the penny is made of copper though. (Nowadays a lot of pennies are no longer made of copper)

My only clothes left from America.

Ok, here is the last photo. The only clothes I have left from America. A pair of “And1” shorts and a basic T-shirt. My style has changed over the years being abroad and some clothes have also worn out.

Well, I hope you enjoyed all of these photos and stories. If you made it here, I’d also like to thank you for reading everything or at least looking at the pictures. Go ahead and sign up if you would like to be emailed when new blogs are posted below: