Learning Turkish in Türkiye: Jeffrey’s Story

I have written everything on this blog from my perspective as a Turkish teacher. Students experience the language from a different side and I want to include their voices too.

I asked a few of my students to share what brought Turkish into their lives and what learning it has been like for them.

The first letter comes from Jeffrey. He moved to Türkiye after spending most of his adult life in Europe and began learning Turkish after he arrived. Here is his experience in his own words.

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I moved to Turkey by choice but with very little knowledge/experience of the country (I might also add, not one word of Turkish). Thus, acclimatization took a long time, I made mistakes, had the added mishap of a fire in my building which required police evacuation, later arduous repairs and cleaning. I began to study Turkish only after a year.

I tried several “methods,” but none worked. Books helped my brain, but not my ears and tongue, where it matters. As soon as my head was clear of my initial trials, I signed on with Seda. I knew her from comments on another written platform. I knew she speaks flawless English (permitting me to ask questions) and is very personable, more than that I didn’t know.

I told her right away, my declared aim is simple: to understand others and to speak to them, i.e. communication. Sounds simple. But it is not easy (for me).

From the first moment, Seda did two things right:

a) she flooded me with exercises fitted to my personality and my experience;

b) she assured me that my inability to say anything was normal and needed “exercise”—just like an unused muscle.

She was full of encouragement and sympathy for my stiffness. The odd thing is, I can go into town shopping without fear, if people say things to me I don’t understand I just tell them I don’t, I can pop up a word or phrase I’ve learned in most of the right circumstances and people are invariably friendly and forgiving. But understanding them is still way beyond me; and saying coherent sentences to them, more so. Therefore, I need major help.

My lessons with Seda have just begun (we’ve only had 3), but she is already leaning on me to talk spontaneously, regardless of errors, just to “exercise the muscle.” And she talks Turkish to me either in ongoing voice messages or online lessons, which of course “exercises a different muscle.” That is one thing that all the books in the world don’t do.

For that reason, I feel this is a promising route, even if I am still much hampered by my own stiffness and inability to speak naturally if I have something to say. If I can get over that block, it will be because of her patience, her psychological understanding and her trying out many methods to get me to relax and talk. It is still hard, but if anyone can do it, she can.

As to my newly chosen world: Turks love to talk. I never met a people that loves to talk so much. And...to talk personally. And inquire. And listen. I lived 3 years in Rome, I thought Romans love to talk (after being brought up in America with the Irish, who also love to talk). But no one loves to talk like the Turks. Personally. Penetratingly. Maybe provocatively. But always friendly, respectful.

That means, you have to listen. It means, you have to understand. And it means, you have to respond. That’s not something I expected when I moved here. But it’s what I found. And what I must do something about. Therefore: communication is indispensable.

I must fill you in on a few personal details: 23 years in the U.S. (until university degree); then 56 years in Europe (most of the time in Austria) where I lived and worked; then 1 year in Ordu (where I live).

Why Ordu? Everyone asks me that. EVERYONE! My answer is poor. Kismet? Yes. Decision? Yes. A couple of visits sufficed to tell me: This is the place for you when Europe has been exhausted.

When AI decimated my profession (translations) and my hearing decimated my court duty (interpreting), I knew the time had arrived, Ordu, here I come. I left everything behind (also too many kitchen utensils and tools). I started anew. Most importantly I left behind knowledge of the terrain (I know all of Europe), communication (I speak 4 languages) and mental laziness (everything was easy there). I came to a place where a) everything was different and b) everything was difficult.

There was no solution, I had to change fundamentally. I left behind 1000 old habits. I developed new habits over the last year, to be precise: shopping, food, eating, supplements, medicines (discontinued), exercise, subjects of study outside of Turkish (new interests), social life (friendship is meaningful here), daily routines, gratitude in being alive (I could no longer exist without greeting the Black Sea every day at dawn).

That’s why, Ordu. It taught me: you have to change fundamentally. If you do, there are rewards.