Sinanation

Name: Nazlı Var

Nickname: DJ NV. Nazlı Yok? The most unique part about her name pops out when you are on a phone call with a Turkish friend and he/she asks you who you are with: You are about to be the victim a nasty word game.

The so-simple-to-answer question hits you like a truck: Kimler var? (Who are you with?) You desperately list the people around you including Nazlı. It is the follow-up question that frames the grand finale: Hangi Nazlı? (Which Nazlı?) Nazlı Var. Since the word “var” is the verb of existence in Turkish, the confusion prevails. “I know Nazlı is there! But which Nazlı?”

Damn it, I say Nazlı Var! Her name is Nazlı Var!

Notable Apperance: Fluffy long dark hair, perky lips

Can’t do without: Hip hop, Hollywood, goldies, black dresses, pearls, huge rings, funky headphones, her blackberry, sunglasses, Jay-Z, Kanye West, Brasserie Istanbul, bar-hopping, black ray-bans, the color red

Notable Hobbies: DJing, being an amazing Turkish host to foreign friends

Weakness: Never giving up on good faith, pop music (especially Virgin Radio hits), Black Eyed Peas – The Time (Dirty Bit)

Last Seen: Brasserie Cafe/Restaurant - Istanbul, Anjelique – Istanbul, The cafes/bars in Beyoğlu, Delicatessen – Istanbul, Montreal, Bodrum, New York, Los Angeles

I am that guy who keeps a list of entertaining pet names for a bulldog he might eventually/hopefully have. Thought it would be good to share. I am not including “Pasha” since I have willingly given it away years ago. I try to go for names that can be easily pronounced both in English and Turkish.

Dijun – Father of the 10 suns believed to exist in the Chinese Mythology.
Panic & Pain – The minions of Hades, reenacted in the animated movie, Hercules.
Mushu – The Chinese Dragon who watches over Fa Mulan in the Walt Disney movie, Mulan.
Batman – I think he needs no introduction
Guiseppe - The popular Italian name that I insist on using for Italian friends who have different names.
Pegasus – The flying horse of Hercules.

Got any of yours? Don’t hesitate to share.

On an ordinary rainy Istanbul Sunday, behind a 65″ TV, on top of a too-soft-to-sit-straight couch, beneath a tower of pillows, in a dark room with a tiny somber light, I have received my diploma from the University of Masochism, becoming a proud graduate of class of 2011 along with my other two classmates.

It has been an enduring few months. The exams consisted of eye popping horror movies and mind boggling thrillers. Our grades depended on how well we reacted to all the tortuous visual scenes we willingly accepted to watch. 5 sinners getting stuck in an office elevator controlled by the Satan, ready to capture their lost souls. 3 friends forgotten on top of a chair lift in a ski resort closed because of a snow storm, trying to figure out a way to survive. A college girl fighting off a torturous demon. A single woman becoming the victim to her psychopath landowner. A confused priest surrendering to the spiritual world through his testimony to numerous exorcisms.

We sat through hours of violence, rating the cinematography and the possibility of the movie ever happening in real life: We had it in us to be intelligent masochists. Despite the fact that all the previous exams helped us excel to higher levels of endurance against tension, we were nowhere near ready for the final exam.

The final for Class Plan-B-11 was the screening of a movie called “I Spit on Your Grave”. We were each given a pillow, a blanket, unlimited bottles of water and we were allowed to eat during examination (although it wasn’t recommended). We had the option to watch the trailer prior to the screening and we all opted to do so. 107 minutes of unbearable scenes were in the horizon and we had all the temptation to give up. It took us 2 min. to contemplate whether we should before a classmate hit the “play” button. Desolation, imbecility, abuse, blind confidence, torture, desperation, blood, rape: all splashed out of the screen right into our pupils. The visuals were so strong that there was no need for any sound.

We jumped around like desperate monkeys, chewed on our fingers, crushed our teeth, sunk our head inside the pillows, made the move to leave the screening and confessed that this was too much even for honor roll students at University of Masochism. Still our eyes were glued to the screen. We watched Jennifer, a young writer who moves into an isolated mountain cabin to work on her new novel, get brutalized by 5 guys and seek her revenge on the attackers. Jennifer’s story was chosen to be the one, which would give us our diplomas.

We have been on a trail to seek realist thrillers. We have watched as many as we could and finally became the honor roll students of the University of Masochism. Some say graduation is just the beginning. In that case our hunt for the contained world of fear, confusion, ambiguity, violence and revenge will only get more adventurous.

Editor’s Note: Please be aware that the university and its logo, referred to in this article, are fictional. They are the creations of the author, crafted solely to complement the subject.

I thought it would be nice the start the week with a cool song and its awesome music video. I accidently landed on it this weekend. Happy Camper is a music project realized by Dutch composer Job Roggeveen. The video below is the video for his hit song “Born with a bothered mind” sang by Bouke Zoete. Manfred, of whom I became a big fan, is the fictional “big-foot” character that hilariously carries this song to the screen.

The song’s title and lyrics are a depressing testament to how we all exaggerate every tiny problem and how we become victims of our own paranoia:

I was born with a bothered mind
made me tense, and a little shy
everytime I’d turn around
I hesitated for a while

you might say I am a doubtful guy
yes I doubt ‘bout this and that and why,
…
Why do I treat myself like this?
What if, what if, what if?
I’d choose meat instead of fish?

We are all indeed born with a bothered mind. Happy Camper takes this torturous reality and turns into an entertaining story with Manfred’s day out camping.

This is the Paris version of a series of commercials shot for Education First, promoting the importance of language. The others include scenes from Barcelona (Spanish), Beijing (Chinese) and London (obviously, English). I think they are all brilliant.

What to expect: Located minutes away from the city center in Erzurum, Palandöken promises to be one of the best ski resorts in Turkey. Splurged by the crisp continental climate and protected by the sets of mountains surrounding its outer skirts, this spot was always recognized as a ski resort with great potential. Yet, it wasn’t until 2009 that Palandöken got the funding and promotion it required to be a full-service winter resort, frequented by the locals, Russians and Middle Easterns. With the hope of housing international winter olympics and USD 400m at hand, the municipality of Erzurum managed to turn Palandöken into a winter wonderland. Ski jump portals were erected. Numerous new lifts were added, opening up the climb to unexplored slopes. In less than two years, this isolated gift of nature became comparable to most celebrated Turkish ski resorts like Uludağ and Kartalkaya. The only thing that disturbs the fame of Palandöken seems to be drought and wind. The low water reserves makes it impossible to run the snow makers despite appropriate temperature levels, pushing the resort to rely heavily on natural snow. That is why, more than any other resort, you need to make sure that there is enough snow in Palandöken before you plan your trip.

Getting there: The flight from Istanbul to Erzurum takes approx. 1.5 hours and then a 20 min. taxi ride will drop you right at the front of your hotel. If you wish to arrange a taxi pick up at the airport call my new buddy Fırat Çavaş at 0090 532 633 4980. This hilarious cab driver will make your trip worthwhile with his funky music blasting through the speakers and his snow tires rolling on the highway like they are prepping up for the Formula 1. One word of caution: make sure to confirm the pick up location twice and give him at least a 30 min. gap before your departure time (he tends to always arrive a little late).

Where to Stay: Dedeman Hotels seem to have a well-established monopoly here (despite the luxurious Renaissance Polat Hotel at the resort’s entrance). Dedeman Ski Resort and Dedeman Ski Lodge are the closest hotels to the slopes. Dedeman Ski Resort is the wooden, older and bigger triangle-shaped hotel located at the very top. The Ski Lodge (our choice) on the other hand is modern, newer, a little more concrete and smaller. Both hotels are ski in/out. There isn’t a big price difference between the two and they both provide half or full board (including ski passes) packages.

Recommended Slopes: Ejder, No. 20 and No. 27

Where to Eat: On the slopes, I recommend either Hot Point Cafe (also known as Dedeman Cafe) located on top of the Dedeman lift or Teras Cafe located at the Dedeman Ski Resort. The Pide (Turkish oven-baked pizza) with diced meat and extra cheese is a must have here. I recommend hot Salep (traditional Spotted Orchid Drink) for dessert.

Although not a restaurant, I insist that you pay a visit to Kars Bakkaliyesi to try out and purchase some of the most delicious Turkish cheese and honey. I recommend the Kaşar and the Tulum cheeses.

For dinner do not go anywhere else but Emir Şeyh Shish Kebab House. This incredible restaurant has been around since 1950s, serving one of the best shish kebabs I have ever eaten. All the cab drivers will know about it. Inside, Emir Şeyh looks like a Mecca of meat with antique tiles covering the walls and outdated blood red-leathered chairs surrounding the tables. The waiters run around like bees, fulfilling every order with impeccable speed and service. You will not get a menu here that will put you in a coma of decisions. The only course, a.k.a. the main course is: a huge plate of beef shish kebab with green pepper, parsley and diced carrots, a side dish of all natural yogurt with diced eggplant and a small plate of diced tomato salad with minced onion, parsley and red pepper. I insist you leave room for dessert and order the amazing Baklava with pistachio, fig paste and minced orange inside and the incredible Sütlü Kadayıf. Plan to ski non-stop next day to avoid obesity.

And at night! Let’s say you still have energy to let loose on the dance floor. Then you have no other option, but to go to Arzem Disco at Dedeman Ski Resort (of course the pre-party will be inside Fırat’s cab on the way up to the hotel). Located on the 2nd floor in a secluded corner, away from all the usual scenery expected from an ordinary hotel lobby, this disco will pull your jaw out, pop your eyes and tickle your ears.

This is not the disco you are used to. You accidentally boarded on a space ship and landed on an unexplored planet called Arzem. This is the dance floor you have forgotten since your elementary school prom. This is the laser show you were mesmerized with when you were a little kid. The too-old to-be-cool couches are painted in neon blue lights. The bar is in the hands of a bartender who looks like he was previously an entertainer at a circus. You order a glass of vodka & soda and drinks start splashing behind the counter. An ordinary drink takes 10 minutes to prepare with the entertainment. The only thing you can relate to is the music: well-remixed pop songs that are unsuccessfully tied to one another by an amateur DJ. Just when you get in the groove, sneaking yourself onto the dance-floor, your anti-lock breaking system gets activated. You immediately take a step back and observe the aliens dancing. The documentary on Planet Arzem begins.

The males are flaming gay. Their hands crawl like horny snakes towards one another. The hips are all over the place. The females can easily be mistaken for a guy if they had a mustache to accompany the mass that appears to be their body. Their dance can’t compete with the flaming guys. The crowd, spread around the club, is no different. There is a vicious dynamic here that scares you as much as it entertains you. Arzem certainly can’t be the nightclub of a family resort, but it just happens to be. You are at the front row of the circus, sitting too close to the lions showcasing their talent. An hour in this place is enough to last a whole ski season.

I am obligated to share a 30 sec. slice from the most unexpected documentary of my life. Go to Sinanation’s Facebook Page to view the video.

Sinanation thanks Fuat Pamukçu and Yasmin Salfati for the photos and the video on Palandöken, Erzurum.

You are ready. So beautiful, so tasteful. Shall we have a cozy Sunday brunch? I will order the regular Salmon Eggs Benedict staring at your beautiful eyes. You can have whatever you want. I will enjoy my spicy Bloody Marry while my other hand will glide through your silky red hair and massage your neck. We can definitely go home, “watch a movie” afterwards. Yes you can stay over. Who cares about the Sunday paper when you are around!

My friends insist that I have a weakness for blondes. This is my reply to them. She came in a catalogue packed together with all the samples tucked in my father’s case from Prêt à Porter Paris.

I refuse to understand this. Mubarak resigns as the president of Egypt and flies off Cairo. Then the conspiracy dissolves into the media. Switzerland rushes to pull up the curtain on a pool of extreme wealth carefully hidden all these years. Then U.K. comes out with a statement, poor-spirited and agitated, saying that its officials are running around locating all the British assets and accounts belonging to Mubarak and all his family.

Why is all this wealth illegal now? Why are the people hiding it so well all these years now desperate to return it back to the original owners?

When did we ever move forward from monarchy/dictatorship? Egypt seems to be the most extreme example in this equation since it has been far away from a democracy. Yet, don’t we know for a fact that almost all the democratic politicians are also professionals in “legally” fattening their personal wealth? All these sweaty decks of money travel in front off our eyes and we watch them behind a sound proof glass fitted with a mirror. Then wouldn’t it be correct to call the system we live in a partially blinded, deafened, stammering democracy influenced by the dictatorship of capitalism and the hunger of dissatisfaction?

Salep (Spotted Orchid Drink) is a drink derived from the twin nodules located on the roots of the orchid plant found abundantly on the mountains of Kahramanmaraş.

Once collected, these nodules are dried into packs of powder, blended with cinnamon, mixed with milk and then boiled. The boiling process is what gives Salep its thick, pudding-like character.

I can’t recall a single ski vacation in Turkey that didn’t involve a slope-side siesta with a cup of hot Salep. Cherished since the early days of the Ottoman Empire, this sweet heartening drink is best enjoyed with an extra sprinkle of cinnamon on top. It is scientifically proven that Salep softens coughing. It is also believed to be an aphrodisiac and a solution to constipation.

I say try it at a Turkish ski resort like Uludağ or Palandöken (where they use the traditional way to prepare the Salep) and take the instant drink packs found in the supermarkets home.

Yet again the Valentine ’s Day is here. Singles and couples, we will all drown in reds, pinks, hearts, candies, balloons, teddy bears, lingerie, over-sized gift cards, massage oils and kinky sex toys. Restaurants will have those romantic courses which are always paired with red wine. Deserts will be flaming hot with melted chocolate and strawberries. Hotels will be promoting their erotic night getaways. Same plain rooms will be decorated with a few rose petals and a bottle of champagne to be sold at a higher rate. Clubs and bars, the hunting grounds of the singles will do everything in their power to avoid the romantic and try to make a little profit from the lonely ones who will be looking to escape the so called fairy tale.

Single or not, I feel like we are all on the same page. Singles try to erase the day from the calendar not because of the people who are celebrating it, but because of the scenery. Couples on the other hand are faced with a bigger dilemma. They are desperately looking for ways to be original in their celebration of the Valentine’s and after a few trials, are out of ideas. They just can’t go to the same restaurant they have been eating at for the past few months. It is just awkward to see the same surroundings and faces painted in red, covered in candle lights. Teddy bears and candies should have already been left alone after high school. Why the hotel when you can go back to the bed you have been sleeping happily for so long? Why the sexy lingerie when they could be worn any day, any time? Single or not, I feel like we all on the same page. We would rather be romantic when we are not told to be…when we don’t have everything around us yelling it so loud that we can’t even hear our own voice.

With that in mind, I wish everyone (especially Hallmark) a happy Valentine’s Day.