Unfortunately, the Kindle only comes packaged with dictionaries of the languages spoken where the Kindle Store is supported: Turkey is, for many reasons, not one of those countries, and so Turkish is not officially supported on the platform. I have even used the dictionary feature while reading in English, picking up new vocabulary like “garret: a top-floor attic room” and “shoat: a young pig.” Searched words are also automatically added to a “Vocabulary Builder,” allowing you to review them with a flashcard function. The Kindle is perfectly suited for reading in a language that you are still learning because any word can be highlighted with your fingertip, initiating a dictionary search that returns a definition or translation. In fact, I had nothing but praise for the little device until I decided I’d like to read a Turkish novel.
I was really happy with the results: whereas I was always too put off by the motions of taking a bulky book out of my bag, carefully monitoring my trip and preparing a bookmark before carefully stowing my book, with the Kindle I stopped scrolling through my phone on train rides and began to finish a few books instead. The itch just demands to be scratched.Ī month ago I decided to buy a Kindle in order to capitalize on my daily train commutes, using the 10 to 15 minute trips to slowly work through books that I’d otherwise be forced to sideline until the holidays. It was both a blessing and a curse at my first job where I’d often leave work only to continue researching and testing solutions to the issues puzzling me late into the night. Some problems I run into won’t let my mind rest until I’ve found a way to solve them.