Like high school but worse

My 86 yr. old mother has a high speed lap top now and she uses it. Stupidly I gave her my blog site. Lo siento!

Like I said this is the low season and I've been here almost two weeks. Seems like a life time on this tiny island where I'm the only female or foreign traveller period. Back and forth across the square "Where is she going? Who is she talking to? Who is she going with?" Well that they know. What are they doing is what they want to know.

Another guy Ali who doesn't speak English either invites me into his cafe for chai. One older man who does speak English translates. He writes down his name, Ali's name and another man's name on a piece of paper. Ali tears it up, writes his on another, and gives that to me as if that is the only name I need to know. My scooter boy walks by and sees me with these guys. BTW scooter boy did wreak his scooter and it was the reason he couldn't make me my octopus dinner. Well I'm glad he saw this little scene.

The next day is market day. I buy more fava beans, asparagus sprouts and go down to the dock without Lisa to bargain for my own fish. I get a beautiful fish for a good deal. I take this all to Lisa's to cook up tonight.

As I'm sitting there drinking my french press coffee Bayram (sounds like Byrom) my scooter boy comes by and tells me in Turkish to meet him here in an hour. That would be 1 pm. At 1:15 I get fed up again with this waiting and leave. As I get near the square for all to see he comes up from behind me, motions for me to get on and makes a u-turn to head out of town. Unlike last time he has cleaned up, brushed his teeth and put on fresh clothes. The closer we get to Azama the more he kisses my palm. At the, closed for the season, restaurant he brings out a bottle of wine and some peanuts. We sit on the deck for awhile then he takes the bottle and glasses and motions me to follow him to this private room in the back. This is all I'm saying for now. Remember I'm in a Muslim country and all of this is tabu.