My student brings out a bowl of purple grapes as we start our early morning lesson at his terrace. Birds fly between the vines draping the stone wall. These juicy, plump grapes look like bull's eyes, or öküzgözü in Turkish. These grapes grow in central Anatolia and produce the red wine öküzgözü şarap. The taste hits the target: "bulls-eye!" My student teaches me the Turkish equivalent "onikiden vursun!" or "you hit 12!"
In Istanbul I often learn about the local political news through my students. The grapes inspire me to teach the idiom hear on the grapevine. Did a friend, neighbor, or colleague tell you what is happening? Most of my Turkish students tell me they do not depend on the local media to report the facts. Instead they turn to gossip, rumors, and conspiracy theories to guess how and why political decisions happen. Gossip fires up almost any conversation. As a teacher I realize that it rarely matters if my students report the facts or not in our lessons. What matters is that my students report what they hear on the grapevine in English fluently. ;;)
In Istanbul I often learn about the local political news through my students. The grapes inspire me to teach the idiom hear on the grapevine. Did a friend, neighbor, or colleague tell you what is happening? Most of my Turkish students tell me they do not depend on the local media to report the facts. Instead they turn to gossip, rumors, and conspiracy theories to guess how and why political decisions happen. Gossip fires up almost any conversation. As a teacher I realize that it rarely matters if my students report the facts or not in our lessons. What matters is that my students report what they hear on the grapevine in English fluently. ;;)