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Posted April 14, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
2005 was a time of expansion in the Turkish media. A relaxation in regulation of TV and radio meant that new stations and channels were opening daily. They were all looking for the angle that would allow them to survive at the expense of the flock of competitors.
One of the up-and-coming TV channels was atv. I was fronting a fairly popular band at the time so, in some deal that I did not quite understand, we met up with a camera and sound crew at Captain Hook, a new rock venue in Harbiye. We were to be filmed performing a number of songs then, perched attractively on some tables, we would act as VJs to introduce video clips of cutting edge music.
I was awful. I had my annual throat infection. I had struggled through our regular performances but was nervous here. For some reason, I decided that it would be good for my throat to chew gum throughout the whole process. Not pretty. I mouthed a lot of complete nonsense in my VJ slot.
People who watched it expressed concern for my health and sanity. Knowing how bad I was, I avoided watching the finished product. atv did not invite me back for another go.
Posted April 14, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
My writing group published an anthology of short stories in 2011. We had a book launch at RADA. I enjoyed myself tremendously, unlike my 2-month-old daughter who howled when it was time for me to do my bit. I think she can be heard in the background of this recording of my reading.
Posted April 14, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
One of my students in Istanbul introduced me to this. Up to the mid-1990s, one could go into an upmarket pet emporium in Istanbul and find a bored chimpanzee in a cramped cage, waiting for some rich fool to buy him and dress him in designer nonsense.
At that point, the laws were brought into line with those of most of Europe. It became illegal to keep several species, including chimpanzees, as pets in order to get rid of the demand that had led to them being dragged out of their homes. Hence, there was suddenly a population of chimpanzees in Istanbul that needed housing and care of a reasonable standard.
This was Darıca zoo which took on this expensive and time-consuming role. Hearing about this from my student, we organised a school trip to Darıca. Here, we found a large collection of apes of various sizes, ages and social proclivities.
The ones that made the biggest impression on most people (including me) were the very young ones, recently taken from the wild. They seemed to have adjusted well to the idea of social interaction with humans and probably missed their erstwhile owners. It was our job to get in with these infants and play with them. This was something of a stopgap as they would inevitably be joining breeding populations of chimpanzees in zoos around the world at some stage. In the meantime, we were their parents/playmates.
They were lovely. As long as one remembered to take glasses and jewellery off before contact, they were gentle, funny and endearing. Having no option, they readily accepted the opportunities presented by us and played, vocalised and cuddled like socially advanced babies.
I hope they enjoyed their subsequent lives. I hope we helped in some way.
Posted April 10, 2014 Posted by Adam in Uncategorized
This post comes after the one about driving a Bedford truck with a garage on the back.
Getting the chickens from Murray Bridge was a simple matter. I drove the hundred miles down, picked up a cardboard box that made scratching and cheeping sounds, and drove back.
Introducing the chickens to the students was fun. Each chick imprinted onto one kid. Later, any pupil could go into the chicken shed and call his or her chick, even when it was twenty times the size tha it had been during the introduction.
The chickens went into the shed, the one that I had brought to school balanced on a 3-ton Bedford. They had a good life as far as meat bird living standards go. Plenty of room, an assigned carer. They weren’t allowed outside to exercise that valuable body mass off or to dilute their fast-grow diet with low nutrient material that they might dig up. They scratched and clucked and fed inside the shed.
And they grew. The chicks had been taller than normal ones, with thicker legs. They needed those sturdy limbs as they stacked on the weight. Soon, they expanded to fit the space available. The 8-week growing period was over amazingly quickly and the chickens were ready to be converted inot food.
I had made the booking with the slaughter and packing company in Murray Bridge weeks before without noticing that the transport date was in the school holidays. So there I was on my own with fifty hefty broiler chickens needing to go the hundred miles to Murray Bridge. My compact Ford Laser hatchback was the only available transport. This was a very different proposition from bringing the little, fluffy versions the other way a few weeks earlier.
I took the back seat out of the Laser and scouted around for materials to chicken-proof the car. Fortunately, an outback school is rich in resources. I floorboarded the back of the car with pine from the woodwork department. Then I taped five layers of corrugated cardboard along teh floor and up the sides to the roof. Loads of newspaper after that and it looked secure and absorbent. Time for the chickens.
The birds were unafraid of people and calmly accepted being picked up two at a time and being put into the back of a car. Towards the end of the process, a couple jumped out but they came when I called and were soon safely in place. I shut the hatch carefully and started driving.
My construction work held up well until the half-way mark. The floorboards shifted when I went round a sharp corner and there was a burst of alarmed clucking. I decided to keep driving. There wasn’t much I could do without emptying teh chickens out and that was a non-starter.
I drove very carefully and finally drew into the driveway of the killing fields. The slaughtermen showed no suprise at my method of livestock transport. I don’t think they had time. We took the chickens out and I learned first-hand what a callous business butchery is.
I opened all the windows on the way home but the stench of high-grade manure was awful. I ended up throwing my overalls away. Nobody wanted the pine floorboards after that either. They had slid to the sides, allowing the chickens to wallow about on my upholstery. I washed and disinfected the inside of teh car many times but it never really smelled the same again.
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