Logo
Prev
Bookmark
Rotate
Print
Next
Contents
All Pages
Related Articles
Browse Issues
Help
Search
Home
'
National Geographic : 1964 Sep
Contents
JIM AND I are a great responsibility to the Turks. We first realized this after nearly a year in Turkey, when we made the trip from Istanbul to Izmir. We found ourselves on the train for 33 hours, and we had neither food nor water. The other two passengers in our compartment opened their well-stocked baskets, pushed an assortment of food to us, and said, "God has given us responsibility for you. Please eat." During our first trip to Istanbul, we gave our taxi driver the name of an expensive restaurant and told him we were teachers in a public high school, living on the salary of a Turkish teacher-$70 a month. He said, "My son, this restaurant is too expensive for you. Come where the cab drivers and policemen eat, and then I'll take you to an inexpensive night club." In Bolu, a town in northern Turkey where we lived during our first year, the horsecart Turkey driver asked Jim how much he wanted to pay for a delivery. Jim suggested 75 cents. The man By NAN and refused. He asked for 30 cents. They bargained JAMES W in reverse until an agreeable sum was reached. Now we teach in Antakya, in southern Tur- BORTON key. As Antioch, it once was the third largest city in the world. But wars, fires, floods, and earthquakes have taken their toll; the population has dwindled to only 46,000. Though most of the great monuments are gone, the old section, with its winding cobbled streets, is probably laid out much the same as it was two thousand years ago. Scattered around the outskirts are reminders of Antakya's past-ancient city walls (page 333), the Iron Gate which protected the city from flash floods, and the Church of St. Peter, where Paul taught and where the term "Christian" was first used. Against this historical background stands the modern town of Antakya. It has an excellent hospital, schools, a number of hotels, and a newspaper. Teaching English can be difficult in Turkey. Each teacher in the country must finish a set number of lessons and give a set number of tests, using the government-approved textbook. This book teaches reading rather than speaking. Yet in Western-oriented Turkey, which welcomes tourists, spoken English is important. Without upsetting the prepared outline, we had our pupils speak English in games: acting out Hamlet, for example, and playing res taurant (they nearly came to blows over the tip). Overcrowding is also a problem. The government has built thou sands of schools, but still there are as many as 90 pupils in a class, three to a desk. From these students we have derived both pleasure and an insight into Turkey. Teachers are respected. Students rise when teachers enter and leave, and salute them in the streets. Hocam, "my teacher," is a title, and all the townspeople address us this way. Both Bolu and Antakya are typical market towns. Horsecarts, Laughter warms winter's chill at a town council meeting in the Turkish village of Enek. Corps Volunteers Nan and Jim Borton, who teach school in neighboring Antakya, join their hosts in plan ning a new road. To ward off the cold, they sit under quilts and a satiny cover draped above glowing charcoal. At mealtime the round mats on the wall come down to cushion trays of food. KODACHROMEBY NATIONAL GEOGRAPHICPHOTOGRAPHERJAMES P. BLAIR © N.G .S . 331
Links
Archive
1964 Oct
1964 Aug
Navigation
Previous Page
Next Page