Over three months ago I made reservations at the hostel where I stayed previously in Istanbul. Except for the winter it's always high season in Istanbul and I wanted to make sure I got an inexpensive nice place. Well, the guy who took my deposit didn't work there anymore. I put a deposit down for one night but made reservations for two. The new employees had none of this information, it wasn't written down anywhere, and having traveled for nine hours to get from Bozcaada to Istanbul I was not happy.
My deposit was for a four bed bunk room but there wasn't one available. They put me in a cheaper eight bunk bed room. The new employees though friendly were incompetent. I decided to let them think I paid for two night instead of one. Karma would probably get me.
Istanbul is a beautiful city and after I had a shower the rest of my time was enjoyable although, I still couldn't eat. This is not typical behavior for me. If anything I over eat.
The next morning I take an uneventful shuttle to the airport and that's where the uneventful stops.
For most people you pay $20 when you get to Turkey and that's good for three months. People who want to stay longer, leave and pay another 20 bucks when they come back.
When I came back from Georgia I paid 20 bucks and the passport police stamped my passport and I thought I was good for another three months.
NO! I guess whoever took my money didn't do the proper paper work (or any paper work) and I was told at the Istanbul airport that I overstayed my visit. Of course, it wasn't just as simple as that. There was the language barrier. My flight was leaving in a half hour. My backpack was already being loaded on the plane. I was one exit stamp away from heading to my gate.
"Go to the passport control office." "Where's that?" I ask. But those were the only English words he knew. I frantically try to find it and when I do and officer there says I must pay more. "But I left Turkey and paid the 20 bucks when I returned. Here's the stamp that proves it."
"That stamp doesn't count, only the first one," the officer says. I tried to explain. He wouldn't listen. "Go to tourist information." I end up running, literally running to the tourist info desk, the passport contol office, and the chief of the passport control who was near the exit gate - to each of these places three times.
Why, you ask? Well, the fine was $200 and at one point, because I had learned all those Turkish curse words, I had the passport control officer throw my money and passport at me. The scene was getting pretty ugly. I thought they might throw me in jail. Maybe I should act more like a damsel in distress than a Tasmanian Devil.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Can't Get Enough Food
I had the most fantastic meal at Yosun's two nights before I left Bozcaada. I don't know why but they love me and give me special treatment, prices and extras. I hope I can duplicate at least their salads. They will definitely be on my dinner party menus.
The salads here, as I've said before, have parsley, dill and mint in them. That night it was just those three main ingredients and it was perfect. It was the dressing, which had a tiny bit of the exceptionally delicious extra virgin olive oil, Bozcaada has some of the best I've ever tasted. But the kicker was the pomogranite juice and seeds.
I also had stuffed grilled squid with dill flavored cheese; pine nuts and cardamon rice stuffed squash blossoms; roasted red peppers stuffed with herbed cream cheese; and the best, which Yusef always treats me to, a toro type sashimi - fatty raw fish that melts in your mouth.
Lisa makes perfect el dente pastas, crispy pizzas, and authentic stir fries. Her cheesecake is the best I've ever had. I use to think Cafe Grecos or L'Osteria del Forno in San Francisco had the best. Both are Italian sytle as is Lisa's, but Lisa's beats them out. Forget that awful Cheesecake Factory shit! But since I obviously eat at Lisa's often I decided to go back to Yosun's for my last meal.
Unfortunately, I was so upset about leaving Bozcaada I could barely eat. Still I ordered three mezes and two glasses of wine like I did the night before. It was all delicious but because of my state I couldn't enjoy it as much. I was sure the bill would be the same as last night 25 trl ($15). I never asked the prices at Yosun's. I usually got what Yusef suggested. I have never paid more than 25trl, but unlike any other time I guess tonight the owner was there. I was shocked when I saw that my bill was 50 trl! I didn't have enough money on me and had to run to Lisa's house to get my credit card. Yusef and Ercon, my other buddy, were embarassed but it wasn't their fault. It didn't stop me from crying as I said goodbye.
I then went to Lisa's Cafe and said goodbye to her employees; Jon who made me practice Turkish and make me say it correctly and sweet tiny Merve who always wore the most adorable clothes. I was crying big time then and I cried as I said goodbye to all of Bozcaada as I made my way back to Lisa's house to sleep. I was catching the early ferry off the island in the morning.
The salads here, as I've said before, have parsley, dill and mint in them. That night it was just those three main ingredients and it was perfect. It was the dressing, which had a tiny bit of the exceptionally delicious extra virgin olive oil, Bozcaada has some of the best I've ever tasted. But the kicker was the pomogranite juice and seeds.
I also had stuffed grilled squid with dill flavored cheese; pine nuts and cardamon rice stuffed squash blossoms; roasted red peppers stuffed with herbed cream cheese; and the best, which Yusef always treats me to, a toro type sashimi - fatty raw fish that melts in your mouth.
Lisa makes perfect el dente pastas, crispy pizzas, and authentic stir fries. Her cheesecake is the best I've ever had. I use to think Cafe Grecos or L'Osteria del Forno in San Francisco had the best. Both are Italian sytle as is Lisa's, but Lisa's beats them out. Forget that awful Cheesecake Factory shit! But since I obviously eat at Lisa's often I decided to go back to Yosun's for my last meal.
Unfortunately, I was so upset about leaving Bozcaada I could barely eat. Still I ordered three mezes and two glasses of wine like I did the night before. It was all delicious but because of my state I couldn't enjoy it as much. I was sure the bill would be the same as last night 25 trl ($15). I never asked the prices at Yosun's. I usually got what Yusef suggested. I have never paid more than 25trl, but unlike any other time I guess tonight the owner was there. I was shocked when I saw that my bill was 50 trl! I didn't have enough money on me and had to run to Lisa's house to get my credit card. Yusef and Ercon, my other buddy, were embarassed but it wasn't their fault. It didn't stop me from crying as I said goodbye.
I then went to Lisa's Cafe and said goodbye to her employees; Jon who made me practice Turkish and make me say it correctly and sweet tiny Merve who always wore the most adorable clothes. I was crying big time then and I cried as I said goodbye to all of Bozcaada as I made my way back to Lisa's house to sleep. I was catching the early ferry off the island in the morning.
Bunny Suits
Even here in Bozcaada on Ayazma Beach there are women in what I call bunny suits. No not the Playboy bunny suits, but the ones kids wear on Halloween. The only thing missing are the ears. They are waterproof. I thought of bunny suits because I saw one woman wearing a pink one. I've also seen blue and the traditional black. Their husbands wear swimming trunks and the kids, whether they are male or female, wear what other kids wear. Only the mother is made to look like a sack of potatoes. She can't swim but floats around like a whale. To each their own I say but I can't help but feel disgusted. Lisa says they should be shot. "Lisa, really don't be so violent!"
Unfortunately I have no pictures.
Unfortunately I have no pictures.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Tenedos
I love Bozcaada and the local people. I make my rounds and practice speaking Turkish with everyone. I will have spent a month here total. In April I was the only tourist and now Bozcaada is packed, especially this weekend because the head patriarch of the Greek Othodox church is here. The patriarch hasn't been here in forty years or something like that. There is still a Greek section in Bozcaada but most were removed in the 20's. The Greeks called Bozcaada Tenedos. When the Patriarch came off the ferry he was surrounded by Greeks. Many Greeks came here to see him. He's like the Pope. I'm as religious as an ant but I shook his hand. It was all quite exciting.
When I say packed I mean compared to other beach resorts. Bozcaada is not a resort. It hasn't been discovered - really. Thank god for the all the vineyards on the island. There's not a lot of room for more growth..
Every morning I hitch to my favorite beach, Ayazma. In April I didn't mind walking the whole way, but it's too hot now. Well, not anywhere as hot elsewhere on the Turkish coast and at night there is a pleasant breeze.
There wasn't a shuttle going to the beach in April but there is now. Although it doesn't leave early enough for me. I like to swim in the morning and leave by 1 pm when it gets crowded. Sometimes it takes one ride and sometimes three and sometimes I still have to walk a lot. Yesterday Scooter Boy saw me and made a U-turn. He tried to make a detour but I said No. He doesn't understand. Today I got a ride all the way in a Jaguar.
I have a ritual. First thing is to the borek cafe, where Umit works. Savoy stuffed bread things and orange juice. When I come back from the beach I might do some things for Lisa at the Cafe and at night if it's busy with English speaking tourists I translate. I really like this because I love to talk. The tourists from Istanbul usually speak English and I get to have fun conversing with them. I feel like I've made so many friends.
Like I said before (months ago) Lisa owns the local paper. The night before, a famous Turkish lithographer, Fethi Kayaap had a gallery showing here. He was born on Bozcaada and he came back to show the influence it had on him. I got to go with Lisa. There was lots of wine from the local vineyards and appetizers. The place was filled with wealthy people and me. I feel honor to be Lisa's friend.
When I say packed I mean compared to other beach resorts. Bozcaada is not a resort. It hasn't been discovered - really. Thank god for the all the vineyards on the island. There's not a lot of room for more growth..
Every morning I hitch to my favorite beach, Ayazma. In April I didn't mind walking the whole way, but it's too hot now. Well, not anywhere as hot elsewhere on the Turkish coast and at night there is a pleasant breeze.
There wasn't a shuttle going to the beach in April but there is now. Although it doesn't leave early enough for me. I like to swim in the morning and leave by 1 pm when it gets crowded. Sometimes it takes one ride and sometimes three and sometimes I still have to walk a lot. Yesterday Scooter Boy saw me and made a U-turn. He tried to make a detour but I said No. He doesn't understand. Today I got a ride all the way in a Jaguar.
I have a ritual. First thing is to the borek cafe, where Umit works. Savoy stuffed bread things and orange juice. When I come back from the beach I might do some things for Lisa at the Cafe and at night if it's busy with English speaking tourists I translate. I really like this because I love to talk. The tourists from Istanbul usually speak English and I get to have fun conversing with them. I feel like I've made so many friends.
Like I said before (months ago) Lisa owns the local paper. The night before, a famous Turkish lithographer, Fethi Kayaap had a gallery showing here. He was born on Bozcaada and he came back to show the influence it had on him. I got to go with Lisa. There was lots of wine from the local vineyards and appetizers. The place was filled with wealthy people and me. I feel honor to be Lisa's friend.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
When Are You Going to Grow Up?!
I've heard this many times during my life. The last few days I've been running around with a couple of 26 yr old girls. I swear I'm the same age. I am perpetually stuck at the age of 26. I can't get out of this cyclone. It's exhausting. My 52 yr old body can't take it, but I see no end. I thought I had it bad but here is a couple of stories that made me feel better about my situation.
I am changing the name of these two girls for their protection. Samamtha, while studying architecture on the Aegean Sea, met a local Turk. A Turk with tatoos and dreadlocks and, of course, amazing in bed. It seems he wanted to marry her after only one night. Even more unusual was the fact that his mother wants him to marry her too. In front of Samamtha she says what beautiful children they would have and how much Yasun loves her. Does it have something to do with her being an American?
It was all idyllic until they left their oasis and went to Izmir. Then Yasun started drinking heavily and became possessive and hostile, something to do with his father I take it. The clincher was when he made out with another woman. Samamtha witnessed this and took off with Yasun chasing after her. He grabbed her arms and started dragging her through the streets. She has a huge gash on her leg from being dragged through a gutter and had to be taken to the hospital.
Samamtha decided she had to get away and during the night she slipped away and changed hotels. I would think he was a nut case and would leave the country, but no she has forgave him and when I last saw her she was on her way to Istanbul to meet him again.
Oh then there is Kathy. She met an Israeli in New Orleans. He cheated on her right and left, but when they were together she thought they had such a wonderful connection. Even Samamtha thought they were good together. Still Kathy couldn't take it anymore and went to India for a year to get over him. While she was in India she met another former girlfriend of the Israeli and discovered he was selling Dead Sea Salt in some shopping mall in Denver where it so happened Samamtha was living.
She goes to Denver and has Samamtha, who was in the middle of her masters' finals, take her to every shopping mall in the area. Well Kathy found him and since his visa was about to expire she married him. Now she still lives in New Orleans and he lives in Denver. She's not over him. Go figure!
I'm telling you this because although I am going back to the States next week I may be back. I decided my situation is no where near as crazy as theirs. I don't want a relationship and Emino doesn't beat me. I just want him to myself which he has promised if I come back - OH YEA! If I do, believe me, I will make a scene. Emino has given me permission, not that I need it!
Oh god! Hopefully San Francisco will help me get over all this craziness.
I actually love Bozcaada and Lisa more. I think I will miss them the most. I hate Kusadasi I would only be going there for the sex. I was even thinking of sleeping with poor scooter boy again, he has been so sweet. He doesn't understand why I don't want to be with him again but he hasn't pressured me. I doubt that I do though only because I may come back and that would make it worse.
I am changing the name of these two girls for their protection. Samamtha, while studying architecture on the Aegean Sea, met a local Turk. A Turk with tatoos and dreadlocks and, of course, amazing in bed. It seems he wanted to marry her after only one night. Even more unusual was the fact that his mother wants him to marry her too. In front of Samamtha she says what beautiful children they would have and how much Yasun loves her. Does it have something to do with her being an American?
It was all idyllic until they left their oasis and went to Izmir. Then Yasun started drinking heavily and became possessive and hostile, something to do with his father I take it. The clincher was when he made out with another woman. Samamtha witnessed this and took off with Yasun chasing after her. He grabbed her arms and started dragging her through the streets. She has a huge gash on her leg from being dragged through a gutter and had to be taken to the hospital.
Samamtha decided she had to get away and during the night she slipped away and changed hotels. I would think he was a nut case and would leave the country, but no she has forgave him and when I last saw her she was on her way to Istanbul to meet him again.
Oh then there is Kathy. She met an Israeli in New Orleans. He cheated on her right and left, but when they were together she thought they had such a wonderful connection. Even Samamtha thought they were good together. Still Kathy couldn't take it anymore and went to India for a year to get over him. While she was in India she met another former girlfriend of the Israeli and discovered he was selling Dead Sea Salt in some shopping mall in Denver where it so happened Samamtha was living.
She goes to Denver and has Samamtha, who was in the middle of her masters' finals, take her to every shopping mall in the area. Well Kathy found him and since his visa was about to expire she married him. Now she still lives in New Orleans and he lives in Denver. She's not over him. Go figure!
I'm telling you this because although I am going back to the States next week I may be back. I decided my situation is no where near as crazy as theirs. I don't want a relationship and Emino doesn't beat me. I just want him to myself which he has promised if I come back - OH YEA! If I do, believe me, I will make a scene. Emino has given me permission, not that I need it!
Oh god! Hopefully San Francisco will help me get over all this craziness.
I actually love Bozcaada and Lisa more. I think I will miss them the most. I hate Kusadasi I would only be going there for the sex. I was even thinking of sleeping with poor scooter boy again, he has been so sweet. He doesn't understand why I don't want to be with him again but he hasn't pressured me. I doubt that I do though only because I may come back and that would make it worse.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Oh yea I'm good
So when Emino gets off work he comes to see me at the hotel. I try my best to wear him out before he leaves. Poor guy I don't how long he can keep going like this - lying and keeping it up for everyone. He tells me, "You're wild. I like sex with you." I say to myself, "I'm so - so out of here!"
I told you about Mehmet, the young boy in Diyarbikir. Mehmet was only 22 yrs old and he had a Brazilian gilfriend who was 47 yrs old. He has since told me that she wants nothing to do with him. If we both knew that we were both being shit on we would have slept together. I really don't Emino to know this because I want him to find him a job but he now has my blog site.
Yes, the sex was great with Emino. I'm addicted to new sex. All the positions with someone different are not boring. I tried to get my money's worth. Two months more and I would have had enough. I wouldn't have cared if he had someone else then but I wasn't ready for that yet. I couldn't take him leaving after we were finished. Our last night I kept him until 3 am. The other girl (she was 30 yrs old) must have been a fool. On the other hand she was the one staying at his house. It's nice to have a free place to stay when you go on a trip.
I went back to Bozcaada. I really want nothing to do with scooter boy this time, but he doesn't understand, since he speaks no English, why I am brushing him off. He follows me around. He waits outside the internet cafe, he walks by Lisa's Cafe a hundred times. All he can say is, "Rosa Rosa Rosa." with sad puppy eyes.
Such is life!
I told you about Mehmet, the young boy in Diyarbikir. Mehmet was only 22 yrs old and he had a Brazilian gilfriend who was 47 yrs old. He has since told me that she wants nothing to do with him. If we both knew that we were both being shit on we would have slept together. I really don't Emino to know this because I want him to find him a job but he now has my blog site.
Yes, the sex was great with Emino. I'm addicted to new sex. All the positions with someone different are not boring. I tried to get my money's worth. Two months more and I would have had enough. I wouldn't have cared if he had someone else then but I wasn't ready for that yet. I couldn't take him leaving after we were finished. Our last night I kept him until 3 am. The other girl (she was 30 yrs old) must have been a fool. On the other hand she was the one staying at his house. It's nice to have a free place to stay when you go on a trip.
I went back to Bozcaada. I really want nothing to do with scooter boy this time, but he doesn't understand, since he speaks no English, why I am brushing him off. He follows me around. He waits outside the internet cafe, he walks by Lisa's Cafe a hundred times. All he can say is, "Rosa Rosa Rosa." with sad puppy eyes.
Such is life!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Stories Behind the Pictures
I mentioned in previous blogs both my hairdresser, pedicurist, and Ali, the beach boy. You must go back six weeks when I was in Kusadasi the first time. They are now my dear friends.
Fetih, Seda, and a friend of theirs, Gulchin taught me all these nasty words to call Emino. Some are so nasty I can no longer have people write their names and such in the back of my journal. One person saw the words and was shocked. I tried to explain fun at the salon. But I know they have a different opinion of me now. One word is something I don't even say at home and it's not MFer.
Ali said the guy is a bastard and I am way to good to put up with that. Everyday he's had to listen to the torrid affair and has given me sympathy. I will miss these people. I'm going to Bozcaada tomorrow. Lisa, my friend with the cafe, says to get my ass there ASAP. She needs some fun. I will not be seeing scooter boy this time. NO WAY- No shephard hut for me. Emino is bad but I really needed my head examined for that one!
Fetih, Seda, and a friend of theirs, Gulchin taught me all these nasty words to call Emino. Some are so nasty I can no longer have people write their names and such in the back of my journal. One person saw the words and was shocked. I tried to explain fun at the salon. But I know they have a different opinion of me now. One word is something I don't even say at home and it's not MFer.
Ali said the guy is a bastard and I am way to good to put up with that. Everyday he's had to listen to the torrid affair and has given me sympathy. I will miss these people. I'm going to Bozcaada tomorrow. Lisa, my friend with the cafe, says to get my ass there ASAP. She needs some fun. I will not be seeing scooter boy this time. NO WAY- No shephard hut for me. Emino is bad but I really needed my head examined for that one!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Rumeli Hotel
I don't know where you thought Emino was putting me up. I would have wondered and I did before we got there. It's his cousin's place and it's actually pretty nıce. The bathroom is clean. There is always hot water, although in this heat I could easily take a cold one. I have a balcony and the main thing is the friendly staff. I don't know what they think of me. Well, I do but they don't show it what-so-ever.
Kasim is a great cook. One night he grilled fish and another perfect basmati rice with chicken in a pepper/tomato sauce. I'm looking forward to more. Well I was looking forward to more but I couldn't stand it anymore - waiting for my hour with Emino.
I wasn't the only one with an ilicit affair there. One day I couldn't leave because someone was getting a bloody nose at the entrance. I guess this guy's brother-in-law punched him out for having an affair at this hotel. Then, I am assuming, the mother-in-law, got involved too - older woman screaming big time. It was quite exciting and I was glad it didn't involved me!
More thrills but not violent - a wedding next door. I went over to check it out. I couldn't resist the dancing. Soon there was more pictures of me than the wedding couple.
Kasim is a great cook. One night he grilled fish and another perfect basmati rice with chicken in a pepper/tomato sauce. I'm looking forward to more. Well I was looking forward to more but I couldn't stand it anymore - waiting for my hour with Emino.
I wasn't the only one with an ilicit affair there. One day I couldn't leave because someone was getting a bloody nose at the entrance. I guess this guy's brother-in-law punched him out for having an affair at this hotel. Then, I am assuming, the mother-in-law, got involved too - older woman screaming big time. It was quite exciting and I was glad it didn't involved me!
More thrills but not violent - a wedding next door. I went over to check it out. I couldn't resist the dancing. Soon there was more pictures of me than the wedding couple.
Mehmet Topal
I never finish telling you about Diyarbikir. It's a Kurdish town. So is Van and Kars but Diyarbikir is known for it's radicalism. The people more than anywhere else want the world to know that it is safe there. I never even thought about it not being safe. I went to Kashmir/Pakistan in the early 90's. I went to northern Peru and did a trek alone there in the mid 80's when it was swarming with Sendero Luminosos.
Well Diyarbikir is definitely safe but the reason you should go is because of the people. Mehmet Topal for one but I hope he leaves or can leave. The city isn't big enough or sophisicated enough for him. He's tried before getting jobs in other cities in Turkey but because his ID says he's from Diyarbikir he can't get a job elsewhere. Mehmet speaks fluent English/French etc. He's helped foreign journalists by being a translator for the Kurdish language. He last helped a French journalist who never paid him. I'm worried about him. I was even more upset when the address I copied came back. Thank heavens I tried a variation and it went through.
Mehmet showed me around Diyarbikir and refused to take any money. He wasn't the only one who wanted to be my free guide. An English teacher wanted me see how safe and historical Diyarbikir is. And before Mehmet showed me around I had plenty of help from other locals. You need help because the city streets are a maze. Of course, like so many other times I was invited into a chai shop. I had two and was refused payment. See pix of all the men.
I just want the outside world to realize the political situation of the Kurds.
Well Diyarbikir is definitely safe but the reason you should go is because of the people. Mehmet Topal for one but I hope he leaves or can leave. The city isn't big enough or sophisicated enough for him. He's tried before getting jobs in other cities in Turkey but because his ID says he's from Diyarbikir he can't get a job elsewhere. Mehmet speaks fluent English/French etc. He's helped foreign journalists by being a translator for the Kurdish language. He last helped a French journalist who never paid him. I'm worried about him. I was even more upset when the address I copied came back. Thank heavens I tried a variation and it went through.
Mehmet showed me around Diyarbikir and refused to take any money. He wasn't the only one who wanted to be my free guide. An English teacher wanted me see how safe and historical Diyarbikir is. And before Mehmet showed me around I had plenty of help from other locals. You need help because the city streets are a maze. Of course, like so many other times I was invited into a chai shop. I had two and was refused payment. See pix of all the men.
I just want the outside world to realize the political situation of the Kurds.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Fool For Love
Emino begged me to come back to see him. I was so anxious. I flew from Diyarbikir to Izmir where I had to make my way to the Izmir bus station 15 miles away. Then rushed to make the quickest connection to Kusadasi. I had a 25 min. walk in 90 something degree temperature with my packback on to his shop. Needless to say I was drenched in sweat.
He kisses me then tells me he's paying for a hotel room for me because he has yet ANOTHER woman living with him. He will pay for this room until she leaves in Aug! She had also already planned on visting him and he doesn't want to hurt her. He saıd he knew ıf he told me before I wouldn't have come - DAMN RIGHT! Where is my fucking brain? I decided to take advantage of the freebie but I'm miserable. Well, I was until I went swimming today. I'm thinking free room and I get to swim in the beautiful clear water.
Oh I'm getting sex and I'm punishing him by making him go south even if I could care less. But after the sex is over he goes back to his house. He can't sleep with me. He thinks I should stay until she leaves and move in with him then. Can you believe!
The good news is that I will come back as planned. I miss my beloved San Francisco.
He kisses me then tells me he's paying for a hotel room for me because he has yet ANOTHER woman living with him. He will pay for this room until she leaves in Aug! She had also already planned on visting him and he doesn't want to hurt her. He saıd he knew ıf he told me before I wouldn't have come - DAMN RIGHT! Where is my fucking brain? I decided to take advantage of the freebie but I'm miserable. Well, I was until I went swimming today. I'm thinking free room and I get to swim in the beautiful clear water.
Oh I'm getting sex and I'm punishing him by making him go south even if I could care less. But after the sex is over he goes back to his house. He can't sleep with me. He thinks I should stay until she leaves and move in with him then. Can you believe!
The good news is that I will come back as planned. I miss my beloved San Francisco.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Wındow Seat
Before I get my bus tıcket I decıde whıch sıde wıll have the better vıew. From Van to Dıyarbıkır I knew I wanted to be on the rıght sıde. I thought I made thıs plaın wıth my motıons because that has always worked before. I should have learned the word for rıght sıde wındow because thıs tıme I was gıven the left sıde. All bus companıes have a mını bus that pıcks you up from theır offıce and takes you to the maın bus termınal so I dıd not know what seat I had untıl I got there.
I poınted to the the seat I wanted and showed the steward my tıcket. I had scratched out the old seat number and put ın the new one. He laughed and saıd no problem. Well, there was no problem untıl a couple of hours later when a couple came on and I had theır seat. I have to tell you these seat numbers do not always mean anythıng because women can not sıt next to men and they are always rearrangıng people because of thıs. I just sat at another empty wındow seat. The steward dıd not say anythıng but I knew he was talkıng about me. He obviously thought I was a problem and he showed thıs by servıng me my tea last.
That dıd not bother me as much as beıng dropped off ın Dıyarbıkır wıthout a clue to where I was. I was not dropped off at the otogar where I knew I could catch a mını bus to the town center.
I saıd the name of the street I wanted to go to to a couple of women. Whıle they looked at my map a mını bus pulls up and I say the name of the street to the drıver. He motıons to get ın. It was not long before I realızed I was not on hıs route. I thought I had had bad drıvers before or maybe because I sat ın the front seat where I could see the horror. Thıs guy drove as fast as he could and abruptly stopped wıthın ınches fo the vehıcles ın front of us. I swear he came so close to hıttıng a kıd that even he gasped. As for me I was gaspıng, screamıng and brancıng myself for a sudden ımpact.
Just when I was never goıng to get out of thıs bus and I was about to ınsıst on hım lettıng me off he pulls ın front of my hotel of choıce and refuses any money. Welcome to Dıyarbıkı.
I poınted to the the seat I wanted and showed the steward my tıcket. I had scratched out the old seat number and put ın the new one. He laughed and saıd no problem. Well, there was no problem untıl a couple of hours later when a couple came on and I had theır seat. I have to tell you these seat numbers do not always mean anythıng because women can not sıt next to men and they are always rearrangıng people because of thıs. I just sat at another empty wındow seat. The steward dıd not say anythıng but I knew he was talkıng about me. He obviously thought I was a problem and he showed thıs by servıng me my tea last.
That dıd not bother me as much as beıng dropped off ın Dıyarbıkır wıthout a clue to where I was. I was not dropped off at the otogar where I knew I could catch a mını bus to the town center.
I saıd the name of the street I wanted to go to to a couple of women. Whıle they looked at my map a mını bus pulls up and I say the name of the street to the drıver. He motıons to get ın. It was not long before I realızed I was not on hıs route. I thought I had had bad drıvers before or maybe because I sat ın the front seat where I could see the horror. Thıs guy drove as fast as he could and abruptly stopped wıthın ınches fo the vehıcles ın front of us. I swear he came so close to hıttıng a kıd that even he gasped. As for me I was gaspıng, screamıng and brancıng myself for a sudden ımpact.
Just when I was never goıng to get out of thıs bus and I was about to ınsıst on hım lettıng me off he pulls ın front of my hotel of choıce and refuses any money. Welcome to Dıyarbıkı.
Mıscommunıcatıon
Not everyone ın Turkey ıs wonderful. Maybe ıt ıs mıscommunıcatıon and locals thınkıng all tourısts have lots of money. Certaınly most have more.
I had enough chaı and I wanted coffee preferable an espress but I was sure that was out of the questıon. Whıle I was lookıng at my map a young, very cute guy asks ıf he can help - Yunus and you can see hıs pıcture. Yunus takes me to a place that serves a decent ıced espresso. Yunus had only been back ın Van for less than one month after lıvıng ın Aspen, Colorado. He looked lıke a snow boarder and he was. Would you lıke to go to the beach? Well, of course, I would lıke nothıng better than to swım ın Lake Van. He calls hıs father and arranges for a car. Once we were on the road he tells me we need to get gas. "We wıll splıt thıs you pay 25 trl and I wıll pay 25 trl." I am totally shocked. An eıght hour bus rıde cost about the same. I wıshed later that I dıd not have the money on me but I had ıt and forked ıt over.
When he gets the gas he just puts ın my 25 trl. "I wıll put my share ın later." Sınce ıt only takes about 15 mın to get to the beach he does not need to do thıs. BTW Yunus asked to be my facebook frıend and there ıs a possıbılıty that he wıll read thıs. He was ınterested ın gettıng hıs pıcture on my blog.
Trash, trash, trash I swear I have never seen as much trash as I have seen ın Eastern Turkey. On the bus the steward serves everyone tea and coffee and after we are done and he collects ıt all and he tosses ıt out the door. The scenery ıs beautıful or would be ıf ıt was not fılled wıth trash. Lake Van was no dıfferent. Plastıc bags, cans, paper, cıgerette butts, etc were everywhere. The lake looked clear and blue but when I got ın yellow bubbles surrounded me. Oh and gettıng ın -women do not swım here. How can you swım ın all those scarves? I took my T-shırt off to expose my bıkını top and the mouths of nearby women dropped. I can not ımagıne what would have happened ıf there were men around to see. I had to crawl down the rocky coast where I was not seen to get ın. So much for the beach because only famılıes go there - not women wıth bıkınıs. At least I can say I swam ın the pıssed fılled Lake Van and ıt only cost me 15 bucks! I thınk Yunus had been around too many rıch Aspenites and thought thıs was a drop ın the bucket to me. The real hıghlıght was lıstenıng to Yunus` CD of the Blacked Eyed Peas.
I had enough chaı and I wanted coffee preferable an espress but I was sure that was out of the questıon. Whıle I was lookıng at my map a young, very cute guy asks ıf he can help - Yunus and you can see hıs pıcture. Yunus takes me to a place that serves a decent ıced espresso. Yunus had only been back ın Van for less than one month after lıvıng ın Aspen, Colorado. He looked lıke a snow boarder and he was. Would you lıke to go to the beach? Well, of course, I would lıke nothıng better than to swım ın Lake Van. He calls hıs father and arranges for a car. Once we were on the road he tells me we need to get gas. "We wıll splıt thıs you pay 25 trl and I wıll pay 25 trl." I am totally shocked. An eıght hour bus rıde cost about the same. I wıshed later that I dıd not have the money on me but I had ıt and forked ıt over.
When he gets the gas he just puts ın my 25 trl. "I wıll put my share ın later." Sınce ıt only takes about 15 mın to get to the beach he does not need to do thıs. BTW Yunus asked to be my facebook frıend and there ıs a possıbılıty that he wıll read thıs. He was ınterested ın gettıng hıs pıcture on my blog.
Trash, trash, trash I swear I have never seen as much trash as I have seen ın Eastern Turkey. On the bus the steward serves everyone tea and coffee and after we are done and he collects ıt all and he tosses ıt out the door. The scenery ıs beautıful or would be ıf ıt was not fılled wıth trash. Lake Van was no dıfferent. Plastıc bags, cans, paper, cıgerette butts, etc were everywhere. The lake looked clear and blue but when I got ın yellow bubbles surrounded me. Oh and gettıng ın -women do not swım here. How can you swım ın all those scarves? I took my T-shırt off to expose my bıkını top and the mouths of nearby women dropped. I can not ımagıne what would have happened ıf there were men around to see. I had to crawl down the rocky coast where I was not seen to get ın. So much for the beach because only famılıes go there - not women wıth bıkınıs. At least I can say I swam ın the pıssed fılled Lake Van and ıt only cost me 15 bucks! I thınk Yunus had been around too many rıch Aspenites and thought thıs was a drop ın the bucket to me. The real hıghlıght was lıstenıng to Yunus` CD of the Blacked Eyed Peas.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Eastern Turkey
After walking up to the castle for the sunset I got distracted by a fruit market. (Cherries and other stone fruit are in season.) It should've have been be easy to walk back to the main part of town but I got lost. A whole family guided me in the right direction: grandma, aunts, mother, father, and children. I don't know how I got so far off. On the way they helped me practice my Turkish. By time I got back to the main drag we were old friends. All the women had on scarves and long sleaves. I had on short sleaves and no scarf. It didn't matter. They loved me and and it was like I was a family member going away. They took my picture. I didn't have my camera, which is typical. The grandmother hugged me the tightest and there were kisses on both cheeks all around.
I found an internet cafe and without my asking they kept bringing me chai. This was in Kars. I'm now in Van, Kurdish territory, sitting in an internet cafe and it's the same thing. They are so thrilled that I'm here and wanting to make sure everything is alright.
When I arrived in Van I was taken under the wings of two students. They made sure I got from the otogar (bus station) to the center of town and told me they would show me to my hotel. First we had to go their house where they lived with several other students. Of course, chai was served. They tried to teach me Kurdish, which is what everyone speaks here.
"No No No Don't get me confused! It's enough to learn Turkish." I told them I'd have my boyfriend call them and translate - that's Emino. Their English was limited so they called their teacher to come over. He spoke some English but really at that point I was overwhelmed. When I arrive somewhere I just want to check into a room and freshen up. They started making me dinner but I insisted, please no. I plan on seeing them tomorrow.
Just a little insight to the wonderful people in this area and all over Turkey.
I found an internet cafe and without my asking they kept bringing me chai. This was in Kars. I'm now in Van, Kurdish territory, sitting in an internet cafe and it's the same thing. They are so thrilled that I'm here and wanting to make sure everything is alright.
When I arrived in Van I was taken under the wings of two students. They made sure I got from the otogar (bus station) to the center of town and told me they would show me to my hotel. First we had to go their house where they lived with several other students. Of course, chai was served. They tried to teach me Kurdish, which is what everyone speaks here.
"No No No Don't get me confused! It's enough to learn Turkish." I told them I'd have my boyfriend call them and translate - that's Emino. Their English was limited so they called their teacher to come over. He spoke some English but really at that point I was overwhelmed. When I arrive somewhere I just want to check into a room and freshen up. They started making me dinner but I insisted, please no. I plan on seeing them tomorrow.
Just a little insight to the wonderful people in this area and all over Turkey.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Border People
What a great day! I left Marina's place at 6:50 thinking I could catch the 7 am marshratka to Akhartsikhe. As I walked down the tree lined boulevard I smiled at several men, something I don't usually do because it means an open invitation to what I don't know but just the same. Across the street a man in his shop calls out, "I love you!" I must have passed his shop many times but I never bought anything there. I thought that's a good ending to Borgomi and Georgia. But that wasn't the end.
The marshratka didn't leave until 7:30. I had time for coffee then. Nothing was open even though the people who were up tried their damnest to find something for me. Finally a man went into his bus company office and made me a Turkish coffee with his little kit. I call these coffees Turkish or tintos (from Columbia) but the Georgians have their own method although they all taste the same - close to mud. I've grown to like them. Another man had been helping me - telling me where I should stand when the correct bus comes. He watches for me. I have my picture taken with these two.
I thought I had the last seat in this marshratka that should seat 14, but at one point there were 21 people beating out the bus I took from Ushguli that had 17. There was no back to my seat but I had a view and I wasn't smashed or had to stand. It was a short ride, only an hour and a half.
When I got to Akhartsikhe I knew I'd have to take a taxi to the border. I could have given him 15 gel but I was leaving Georgia and the money would be useless in Turkey. I hoping to find a kachapuri that hot cheese stuff pastry but still nothing was open. People in Georgia really don't open anything up until 9 or 10 am. The driver tried to find me kachapuri on the way to the border but no such luck. I gave him 18 gel. We get to the border at 9:15 and it doesn't open until 10am. I had my I-Pod.
It was really easy crossing over, sincerely saying goodbye to the Georgian border patrol and telling the Turkish guys I was happy to be back.
Back - nothing was at the other side. There were no vehicles of any kind. One guy said he could call a taxi but I used my taxi quota for the coming year. I'll just wait in the middle of nowhere and hope I can hitch with someone else coming across the border. Posof the next town was 12 km away and where I hoped to catch a dolmas to Kars.
About 10 minutes later a good looking guy comes towards the deadend. I see him talking with the border patrol guy. He doesn't have a vehicle. There's not a chance he speaks English. I ask him if he's taking a taxi. He is. Mevlut is an electronics engineer and he speaks English. You don't how many times I've lucked out picking the right person who just happens to speak English. But that's not all I've lucked out about.
He ıs gettıng a taxı to Ardahan about an hour and half away. Mevlut wıll not let me pay. It ıs a very scenıc - green green rollıng hılls rıde and ın thıs dolmas there ıs only Mevlut myself and the drıver. (BTW I have only the Turkısh alphabet here so there are no commas.)
I thınk Mevlut would have paıd my way all the way to Kars. He dıd not thınk I had any Turkısh money. I only had an hour more to get to Kars and Mevlut made sure I was safely on.
Next the frıendly people of Kars - lıke thıs guy who makes sure I always have a full cup of free chaı (tea) whıle I wrıte thıs.
The marshratka didn't leave until 7:30. I had time for coffee then. Nothing was open even though the people who were up tried their damnest to find something for me. Finally a man went into his bus company office and made me a Turkish coffee with his little kit. I call these coffees Turkish or tintos (from Columbia) but the Georgians have their own method although they all taste the same - close to mud. I've grown to like them. Another man had been helping me - telling me where I should stand when the correct bus comes. He watches for me. I have my picture taken with these two.
I thought I had the last seat in this marshratka that should seat 14, but at one point there were 21 people beating out the bus I took from Ushguli that had 17. There was no back to my seat but I had a view and I wasn't smashed or had to stand. It was a short ride, only an hour and a half.
When I got to Akhartsikhe I knew I'd have to take a taxi to the border. I could have given him 15 gel but I was leaving Georgia and the money would be useless in Turkey. I hoping to find a kachapuri that hot cheese stuff pastry but still nothing was open. People in Georgia really don't open anything up until 9 or 10 am. The driver tried to find me kachapuri on the way to the border but no such luck. I gave him 18 gel. We get to the border at 9:15 and it doesn't open until 10am. I had my I-Pod.
It was really easy crossing over, sincerely saying goodbye to the Georgian border patrol and telling the Turkish guys I was happy to be back.
Back - nothing was at the other side. There were no vehicles of any kind. One guy said he could call a taxi but I used my taxi quota for the coming year. I'll just wait in the middle of nowhere and hope I can hitch with someone else coming across the border. Posof the next town was 12 km away and where I hoped to catch a dolmas to Kars.
About 10 minutes later a good looking guy comes towards the deadend. I see him talking with the border patrol guy. He doesn't have a vehicle. There's not a chance he speaks English. I ask him if he's taking a taxi. He is. Mevlut is an electronics engineer and he speaks English. You don't how many times I've lucked out picking the right person who just happens to speak English. But that's not all I've lucked out about.
He ıs gettıng a taxı to Ardahan about an hour and half away. Mevlut wıll not let me pay. It ıs a very scenıc - green green rollıng hılls rıde and ın thıs dolmas there ıs only Mevlut myself and the drıver. (BTW I have only the Turkısh alphabet here so there are no commas.)
I thınk Mevlut would have paıd my way all the way to Kars. He dıd not thınk I had any Turkısh money. I only had an hour more to get to Kars and Mevlut made sure I was safely on.
Next the frıendly people of Kars - lıke thıs guy who makes sure I always have a full cup of free chaı (tea) whıle I wrıte thıs.
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