Of course, most of the time I start a book and get at least a third of the way into it before I come up for air. That’s the case of what happened with What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank, a collection of short stories from Nathan Englander. I started reading it over the weekend, and I’d finished three of the eight stories before I put it down. His stories deal with Judaism, faith, religion, and Israeli and American cultures. Having traveled to Israel just a few weeks ago, I feel I’m reading the book with a different set of eyes than if I’d read it before my trip.

Perhaps this is the month of reading about religion (in part), because the first book I read this month was Love, InshAllah, a collection of essays written by American Muslim women. The writers reflect varied backgrounds and experiences with love (and marriage, dating, and family), and I found it fascinating to read about love and religion in such an open way. For DC-area people who are interested, the editors will be at Busboys and Poets (5th and K, NW) on Monday, February 20.

I also read The Magicians by Lev Grossman, in which Quentin, the teenage protagonist, attends a magic college (spell magic, not rabbits-out-of-hats magic), and experiences delight, angst, and ennui while finding a place to belong to. It’s about other worlds, growing up (or not), fulfillment, and relationships (romantic and otherwise). I enjoyed some of the creative images and scenes (people turning into geese and large talking bunnies), but as much as I wanted to like this book a lot, and as much as it received very positive reviews, I thought that the pacing was a bit uneven and the pop culture references more jarring (and irregular) than clever.

And to end with the expected, I’m still reading The Count of Monte Cristo.

I stayed at a hostel that was just ‘meh,’ but the location–two blocks from the Hagia Sophia, in the Sultanahmet area–was great. With the guidance of the fantastic Rick Steves’ Istanbul, I explored and learned about the city and the museums. Really neat stuff. I went to most of the popular tourist and historical places, but I was really impressed by the Istanbul Archaeological Museums. They had some amazing pieces there, and it’s set up so that most of the pieces are in the open, not encased in glass. I stood inches away from carvings that were more than 3,000 years old. Pretty cool, right?

(Not cool was having an Iranian man about 60-years-old hit on me twice during the Bosphorus cruise: ‘I think you don’t have a boyfriend… I think you didn’t eat [during lunch]. I can buy you some food… I have some free time before I leave tomorrow. If you have free time, we can get together.’ Finally my polite but firm refusals in monosyllabic answers made him suspicious that I might be saying things so as to evade him. You think?)

(Honestly, for the most part of the trip, being a female traveling alone got me a lot more attention than I’m used to–and I’ve traveled on my own in several different countries. I didn’t feel unsafe, but it got a bit wearing to be constantly approached or talked to while walking down the street.)

Vacation time is over, though, and the second semester of school has already begun. My class schedule stays the same, and I’m looking forward to working more with my students and trying new projects. Of course, one of the first things to teach this week was the word “vacation” and some of the differences between American English and British English.

The Abraham Hostel where I stayed was great, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone traveling here. The people who work here are super friendly and helpful. The communal spaces are comfy. There’s always something going on during the evenings. It’s pretty much everything you’d want in a hostel.

Highlights from the trip: Hanging out with SG; walking around Tel Aviv; marveling at the many bikers and bike lanes in Tel Aviv; eating chickpeas (in the form of hummus or falafel) at every other meal; hiking up to Masada (and taking the tram down); getting to know the different people in my room and on the day-tour (including an older Australian couple traveling for 8 months); befriending another girl from the tour and then having a travel buddy for the following 24 hours; eating street food from the souk in Bethlehem (falafel for 2 1/2 shekels/$0.67 us dollars); hearing the story of the Milk Grotto from a Franciscan priest (a popular spot for those with fertility issues; in his office the priest has photos from more than 900 families who’ve had babies after visiting the grotto); learning how to eat hummus (scoop in a clockwise direction with lots of wrist to get as much on your pita as possible); hanging out with some Israelis and learning their thoughts on American presidents and the Israeli version of “The Voice;” checking out the awesome installations and modern art in the Israel Museum; standing in awe of the Dead Sea Scrolls; and walking around a city where buildings are a few thousand years old and the light rail is a few months old.

Then I sat down next to Evren. “The electricity is out,” she said. Wait, what? She continued, “They’re on strike. They don’t like what the government is doing so there’s no electricity.”

The government wants to privatize the electricity, and so in protest, the workers have gone on strike. It started at 3:30pm yesterday, and is supposed to continue indefinitely. The leaders have said that they’ll bring the police to force them to turn the electricity back on, but I don’t know how/when/if that will happen.

This is coming during an abnormal cold spell for the country and during first semester finals in the North. One teacher told me that her children had to study with a lantern last night, while another teacher said that students were posting on Facebook about not being able to study enough because of the lack of light. (Of course students are posting on Facebook with whatever remaining  battery power they have on their phones or computers.) Before biking home today I chatted with some of my students. I asked about their exams, but then also about the electricity. They didn’t understand that word, but when I said lights they knew what I meant. All four of them (who live in three different towns outside of Nicosia) were without power at home.

At school, the teachers held a group discussion about supporting or not supporting the strike. The problem with supporting the strike is that it would throw off the exam and reports schedule. We’re at the end of the semester, and there are a certain number of days for the exams. Already they’re using one of the days for the make-up exams because Tuesday was a holiday for Denktash’s funeral. Then the verifying and reporting of grades takes a long time due to certain protocol (grades must be entered by all teachers on one of four official, school computers).  (The school reports are far more complicated than I expected and something I’ll try to decipher because it doesn’t make sense to me as I currently understand it–three people evaluating a single exam just in case the parents complain about the grade? Surely that can’t be right…)

I’m not entirely sure what the conclusion was, but I think the teachers are going to continue as normal for the remainder of the semester (which ends 31 January), but in the second semester, which starts 16 February, they’ll consider taking supportive action.

As for me, I have power and have invited my coworkers to visit/stay with me if they want. I don’t think they’ll take me up on the offer, but I do hope a resolution is reached soon.

Ben Mezrich’s Sex on the Moon: The Amazing Story Behind the Most Audacious Heist in History was an entertaining telling of how and why Thad Roberts stole moon rocks from NASA. I finished (for the whateverth time) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. And of course, I’m still reading The Count of Monte Cristo.

I’ve recently finished reading Wendy and the Lost Boys, a biography of the playwright Wendy Wasserstein. While reading the book was transported to New York, and it took me a few minutes to remember where I was–and then a few more minutes to get over the disappointment of having been interrupted during my reading.

I’m currently reading The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk, a Turkish writer and winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2006. I saw one of his books on someone’s bookshelf and thought this would be an excellent time to read one of his books. Also, my brother is a fan of his work. I’m sorry to say that I’ve only ever started one of his books (Snow) and then had to return it to the library before I could get too far into it. It’s been great to read the book and know how to pronounce the Turkish names and places and to also learn more about the culture. I’m thinking I’ll have to return to Snow soon and read it as well.

Also, I’ve put up a virtual bookshelf that appears on the right-hand side of the blog (through Shelfari). The books on there are a bit out of order, since I recently added a bunch of books I read ages ago, but soon it’ll reflect what I’m reading now.

Next up will be The Magicians by Lev Grossman.

What is interesting to note is that Cyprus has a history of being occupied, and it wasn’t until 1960 that it achieved independence from Britain. Fast forward to now, when in one week, the leaders of both sides (north and south) are set to meet in New York for peace talks. They were in New York a few months ago as well (these talks have been going on for three years), but there doesn’t seem to be much promise for a solution. Two big issues related to these talks are the natural gas reserves found through off-shore drilling (and the money that will come from it) and Cyprus’s upcoming presidency of the Council of the European Union, which begins July 2012.