Wow.  Spring break is right around the corner and I couldn't be happier.  I have a Fulbrighter coming to visit me for the week and after we do some touring and shopping in Sofia we are heading to Istanbul to do some more shopping, sight seeing and eating.

The weather seems to be vacillating between spring and winter so I am sincerely hoping that the weather shapes up for my friend's visit.  (Hey, Baba Marta: I've been wearing my martinetsas for three plus weeks now.  That's got to count for something!)  Or if not in Bulgaria, I can only hope that we get beautiful weather in Turkey.  I understand that we're heading to Istanbul right before the big tourist season starts so I guess that even if the weather isn't perfect at least we'll get to explore the city in the relative off season.

The funny thing is, I've never been on "spring break."  I spent four years in college and then worked at a university for four more and I've never partied it up on a beach, backpacked through part of Europe or even spent the week hanging out with friends.  Now don't get me wrong, this isn't a woe is me kind of story.  I am just stating this because now for the first time in my life everything seems to have come together--the time, the money and the location--for me to spend part of my spring break exploring a new town with an old friend. And that seems pretty great to me. Oh and it doesn't hurt that it's Istanbul.<!--more-->

Today during a teachers' party after school, one of my teacher friends asked me what I was doing for the break.  I told her the basics.  She told me that I'd have a great time but that the Turkish men would love me.  Please let the record state that I am suspicious when ever anyone makes a sweeping statement like this.  It turns on a bell in my head that says: oh yeah?! and the voice is dripping in sarcasm and disbelief.

The teacher friend follows this broadly sweeping comment with more specifics as if to make or reinforce her point.  Alright, I listen but I am not sure that she's going to really sell me on this.  I have a hunch that her point will rest on the blondness of my hair and the fairness of my skin.  This seems to be very obvious to people here in Bulgaria and they also generally like to point it out to me.  As if I might not have noticed how much blonder and fairer I am than most people in this country.

Well it turns out that my teacher friend catches me off guard and I nearly spit half a Bulgarian meatball out on her when she tells me: Turkish men love women like you.  Blond, blue eyed, chubby.  What?! Okay, at this point, I am not sure what the appropriate response is.  So I ignore the chubby comment--I know I am not the thinnest girl in the room and I guess I should be happy that I've just been called chubby rather than something else but now I can't get chubby fat baby wrists out of my mind (which is something that I like a lot but do not have).

As a result, I end up saying to my teacher friend: oh, don't worry the friend I am going will has really dark hair, skin and eyes.  She looked at me as if to say to me: I don't know what your judgment could be like given how fair you are.  And frankly she's right.  My friend isn't really very dark haired and neither are her eyes or skin.  She's Italian American.  She just darker than I am and I didn't know what else to say.

So, that's that.  I am going to Istanbul for spring break and I am really looking forward to it.  Oh and I've been spending lots of time walking around and singing that song to myself, "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vankaSlfSr0&amp;feature=related" target="_blank">Istanbul not Constantinople</a>." I know it's horrible and I shouldn't really be singing this song but, well, I can't help it.  It is pretty catchy.  Hey at least I know: that Istanbul is Constantinople so if you've got a date in Constantinople, she'll be waiting in Istanbul.