There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune

Turkish class - some of of the characters

E-mail this post

Remember me (?)

All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of More...

There is a fellow of Korean persuasion in my Turkish class who is proving to be a serious contender for the title of "undisputed king of unintentional comedy". He always shows up with his hair disheveled and a grass stain on his jeans. He has an extremely thick accent, and tries his best to pronounce sounds like "z" or "sh", but is unable to do so, despite his persistent attempts. He will sit in his seat trying to say a word with "z" in it, repeating it in vain, then throwing his hands up in despair. At break time, he will occasionally begin stretching, followed by very loud groans and grunts. Then, the Korean girl will begin dutifully punching him in the back and shoulders with her little fists, providing some sort of relief to his aching muscles. All the while, he will moan and grunt, completely oblivious to the fact that anybody else is in the room. Today he decided to practice his English on me, requiring me to answer a series of inane questions. After every answer, he would pause, think a bit, then toss his head back, nod vigorously, and yell "aaaaaaah". The guy is absolutely killing me, and every day he adds some new business or routine to his repertoire, such that I plan on giving him a standing ovation on the last day of class.

Then, there are the Belgians. They're not really that remarkable, except for the fact that they are Belgian. I have an entire slew of Belgian jokes that I'm just aching to tell, but cannot for fear of starting an international incident.

0 Responses to “Turkish class - some of of the characters”

Leave a Reply

      Convert to boldConvert to italicConvert to link


About me

  • I'm Sunset Shazz
  • Living the dream in Istanbul, Turkey
  • I grew up in the hardscrabble streets of suburban Ottawa, Ontario, committing petty crime, insulting the elderly - basically the classic misspent youth. When I was 19, I moved to West Philly, where I put myself through the Wharton School by dealing crack and hustling. After stints in Paris and London, I eventually graduated and moved to San Francisco, where I put in eight years hard labor working for The Man. But now I pop bottles with models, deciding cracked crab or lobster - who says mobsters don't prosper?
    More information about this blog.
  • My profile

Previous posts



ATOM 0.3