Hiatus

I'm sure you figured out that I'm back in the States. I'm in my beloved city, San Francisco but not for long. I'm broke so I have to live with my mother in Podunkville, the place I've been trying to escape since I was five.

For the next five months I will write about Podunkville whether you are interested or not. It's full of bible thumping racists so you might want to tune in for a different perspective or hear about yourself.

I will always consider San Francisco my home. I am a left wing socialist so being in Podunkville will be like being in prison. The only saving grace is my brother's restaurant 'Justus Drugstore'. Stepping into his and his wife's restaurant is like stepping back into San Francisco.

Who's Crazy?

Emino says I'm crazy. Did he start this rumour? While I was in Kusadasi he had his spies out watching my every move.

"Your crazy girlfriend is at the tea shop." Emino owns this tea shop and it is next to where he works at the carpet shop. I get free apple or regular tea here and half off the juices. The pomegranate juice is my favorite and I have a glass daily.

"She came to the hotel (his cousin's) looking for you." This was when his conservative cousin was in town. Emino had gone there and I got tired of waiting so I thought I would just walk by. Since his conservative cousin was there I was not to be seen. Emino is suppose to be pure until he gets married to an equally pure Kurdish girl. Anyway, Emino had already gone home and was mad when I return to his house. His spy had already called him.

Then one of his spies says he sees me walk to Ladies Beach every day. "Why is she walking there?" To me Ladies' Beach is not far, sometimes I walk there twice, making this loop that's takes an hour and a half. But I also walk there to swim. This is after the season. Emino tells his spy that I go there to swim. "She is crazy," his spy says and probably Emino too.

Another spy says he saw me at Mr. Moon's with all the other crazies. The other crazies are ex-pats that I grown to love. All sorts of nationalities are represented: Irish, British, Dutch, German, Scottish, Belgium, Danish and me, the American. This is where I have my one obligatory beer - usually. Actually I can never finish two.

Mr. Moon's is next to Fetih hair salon. I go there to see him, too. Emine is his pedicurist. Seda used to be but she moved to Istanbul. You can see both of their pictures in my blog. Now you see of all the other crazies, except Eric, the Danish artist who covered his face. Efren, who is wearing a San Francisco sweatshirt, is the proprietor of this hang out.

But as far as I'm concerned it's Emino who is crazy and anyone who agrees to an arranged marriage. Emino left to Van to see his family the same day I went to Istanbul. He told me he would call. When he says he will call it's not long before I hear from him. But I waited a long time. I knew something was wrong. I knew he was having a hard time getting away from his family to call me in private. I was right. When he did call he told me his family was pressuring him to marry immediately. His family thought he should have married years ago. They want to know why he is refusing. Emino would benefit from marriage. He'll receive money. But I know Emino has been corrupted. but he can't put it off much longer. He wants to see me again. Of course, I want to see him again. I also know we would never be. The age difference and the culture is far to great. Oh such is my life.

This is the end of Turkey - this year. I would like to see Lisa and the crazy expats again. But I don't know what I'll do next spring. I wasn't detained or fined when I left, so if I do come back there shouldn't be a problem.

I also got through passport control in London. The officer said, "Was there a problem before?" For a second I thought, "Oh no!" but this time I kept my mouth shut. "No, I'm just seeing my niece for a couple of days then I'm going back to the States."

Top Dog

So I'm the only woman in Emino's life right now. The girl from Seattle, who bought him an air ticket, is out. He told me he was finished with her. He showed me the text messages she sent him saying if she didn't hear from him she would not come in December. She even called when we were right in the middle. Emino paused for a second then kept going.

Do I care? No way. He eventually plans on marrying a Kurd. I've always known that. He never told the girl from Seattle. She thought they would get married. I feel sorry for her. Would I want to marry him if I could? No way! And be in bondage the rest of my life? He's going to marry some young girl whose going to be wrapped up in a gunny sack.

Hey I can play the sex slave/house wife for awhile - knowing it's temperary. I even iron his shirts. I rarely iron my own clothes and I have never iron another guy's. I do it out of boredom. I can only swim so much.

He still wants me to come back next year. He will miss our fighting, our lovemaking and my excitability. He says he loves me. Well, until he has to marry. His family is pressuring him. He's trying to hold off until he's 35.

I just want one more year - maybe. I was starting to think like a friend of mine's girlfriend. He says she always thinks the glass is half empty instead of half full. I'm having a good time right and that's all I care about.

Markets

No, it's not all sex. I have been swimming almost daily, although the Turks are all wearing their winter coats. I run around in a tank top. The night's are cooler but the days have been sunny and the water is beautiful. I've gotten into water before that gave me a headache. It hasn't gotten to that point yet - far from it.

Then the markets here. There are two outrageously huge farmers markets during the week that make Pike's Place in Seattle look like a hot dog stand. I mean they are overwhelming. I go absolutely nuts. I can barely walk back to the house with my load and I've spent about six bucks. Well, slight exaggeration if I buy cheese.

I could care less about clothes. Food is my favorite thing to buy. But I only came with sundresses on this trip - another first. I have never brought a sun dress or anything resembling one on any of my trips before. Again I knew this trip was all about sex and nothing else. So like I said the weather is cool at night - too cool for sun dresses. That's okay. There is a Wednesday clothes market about the size of a shopping mall. I got two long sleave tops for $3 a piece.

Boring

If anyone is still reading this you're probably wondering why I named this blog unafraidtravel. If it wasn't for the Turkish passport control it would be totally boring. I can thank them for that. You see I used to have all sorts of adventures when I traveled, taking all sorts of risks.

In the late 80's I hitched hiked down Baja, Mexico and kept going until I got to Chile and then I made my way up through Brazil, down the Amazon, into Venezuela where I flew back into the States. This took about a year. During this time I got a ride in a truck across the Darien Gap, went through Columbia in the height of drug trafficking years, and hiked in the Cordillera Blancas when it was crawling with Sendero Liminosos.

A few years later I went to Southeast Asia. Yes, I went to touristy Thailand but my real adventure started in Indonesia where I spent four months, two of those in Sumatra, where I think every bus I took had a flat.

I went over to India and made my way up to Kashmir although because of the war there were no buses running so I had to make my incandescently.

Then there was Bulgaria where a vender thought I stole his potato chips and threaten to cut my head off. And just recently to save some money, or so I thought, I took a refuge boat to an island off of Vietnam. Well It seemed like a refuge boat.

Now it's all sex. I don't know what to say about that, but when I do I'll let you know.

Afraid of Police

I'd had become a local in Kusadasi. Every day I'd see Ali at the beach and Fehit every afternoon. Ali is the only Turkish person I've seen who can swim well. Fehit is the cute guy who cut my hair before and I had him cut and color it again. (I need a new photo of myself.) Next to Fehit salon is Mr Moon's where all the ex-pats hang out. I have my obligatory beer before going home to have Emino make us dinner.

The bum's life. But this bum needs to see Lisa. I will have to forgo sex for at least a few days.

It's quite a journey from Kusadasi. I had to take a bus first to Izmir. I caught the 10 am bus and I should've tried to make the 9 am one. Of course, Emino kept me in bed. Every morning Emino is late to work and now he's made me late too.

It takes over an hour to get to Izmir. I just missed the 11 am bus to Ezine so I had to take the noon one. The bus company employee told me it would take five hours to get to Ezine. I know the last ferry to Bozcaada leaves at 6 pm. At Ezine I have to take a mini bus on to the port and that takes a half hour. I'm worried that if there is any delay I will miss the ferry. The employee assures me that I won't.

"I'll be back in a few days so if you are wrong I'll let you know!"

I know Ezine. I know what to do to make the connections. But when I arrived the bus company had someone there waiting for me to make sure my connection was made. That was so sweet. What was sweeter was having Emino call me as I was on the mini bus. I told him I would call when I arrived, but he couldn't wait. I told him I thought he'd be glad to be rid of me for a few days. "No way!"

BTW I have a phone here. My niece lent me one she wasn't using and I got a sim card.

Lisa is waiting for me as the ferry pulls in. Although her restaurant has been closed for a month she still uses the kitchen to cook. We head to the fish market first thing. I love her baked fish, arugala salad, and the side dish of ambergine and tomatoes.

Bozcaada looks like it did when I came here in April. The tourist season hadn't started then and now it's over. Most of the restaurants are closed and some of the people I had taken pictures of have gone to Canakkule on the mainland. But I do see some familiar faces and they ae happy to see me.

There are people I am not going to see. Those people are the police. The Turkish consulate never told me I had to check in, but Lisa was approach by the police here. They told her they wanted to check my visa when I arrived. I'm not going to see them. Maybe I'm paranoid but I've been detained so much lately I'm afraid. I fear I will be detained again, fined again and worse, forced to leave again. I'm afraid they will take me away and I will not be able to see Emino again.

So Called Terroists

I guess the Turkish government aren't the only ones to dislike Kurds. Emino for the second time has tried to get a visa for the U.S. He had five invite letters (none of those were from me) and all the necessary documents. It costs him $300 yesterday to go to the Capital, Ankara, including the fee he had to pay just for the appointment. He had to take a ten hour bus ride there only to be told he was denied and then another ten hour depressing ride back.

One of the invite letters was from his girlfriend in Seattle. This is the one Emino first told me about and I accepted it. (It was the second one that pissed me off.) This girl works for Delta and even provided him a round trip ticket. Of course, she is devastated. Since I'm selfish I don't care because I doubt that he would be seeing me if he did go to States.

I'm perfectly happy with my situation now being the number one in his house. As my friend Rodney says it sounds like "Big Love" from the HBO series. I still want to go to Tajikistan and Turkey would be a good base. I'm confident that my only other competition is the Seattle girl and she never comes for more than a week at the time. I can always see Lisa then.

BTW I have not seen Lisa in Bozcaada yet. I don't know if I'm still suppose to check in with the police when I do get there.