-Turkey

5) Turkey-
10-25-2007
The second leg of my journey commenced as Max and I were excitedly torn away from the dilapidated city of Sofia and taken onward toward Istanbul in rolling, soviet era, steel cages. Max, a RPCV who served his assignment in a small Bulgarian town called Svishtov located on the infamous Danube River. Max and I had been articulately planning our future adventure together for the last three months, and were more than ready to get the ball rolling. The door to the open road had at last swung open; Max and I did not hesitate to storm through it and race down the dark corridors into the great unknown.

We were set to arrive in Istanbul at around 9am, unfortunately do to unforeseen delays; we arrived at 1pm instead. Upon arrival we met up with my high school friend Ryan Schrenzel and began to hammer out some logistical details for our trip through Turkey. After a few failed attempts of logistical planning; we had wasted most of our daylight and were forced to stay the evening in Istanbul. We passed the time by playing backgammon and reminiscing about faded memories while sipping on goblets of extortionately priced tea. I have noticed that after a few visits to Istanbul, the city begins to lose its charm. The overzealous vendors and money thirsty tourist traps begin to overshadow the cities cultural vibrancy and historical flair. Like many thriving economic capitals, Istanbul has more or less sold its soul to the greed driven beasts of capitalism and consequently has become a city of increasingly diluted culture and questionable ethics.

10-27-2007
After narrowly winning a hard fought battle with insomnia, the gang and I woke up at around 8am and soon after departed for the bus station. Max, Ryan and I boarded the surprisingly luxurious12:00pm bus for Izmir. The bus pulled into Izmir at around 10:30pm.......we were all quite relieved that the bus trip was finally over; it had been a long day. We were in high sprits as we exited the bus and began to look for the home of our Turkish host Guilchen. After about an hour of disoriented wandering and escalating confusion, a crew of local men took us under their wing. They commanded us to sit down as they called our host and directed her to our whereabouts. While we waited we were taught a few simple Turkish words and fed liver sandwiches (as a gift); so far so good! We were all taken back by how friendly the locals were, our first impression of Izmir was quite favorable.
Our host arrived a few minutes later and escorted us to her home a few blocks away. Guilchen turned out to be an incredible host; her energy, kindness, sense of humor and generosity made our stay in Izmir absolutely unforgettable.
10-28-2007
We all woke up feeling energetic and enthusiastic; soon after we were on our way to Ephesus and Sharingay. Our wonderful host joined us as we wandered around the magnificent ruins of Ephesus. Ephesus has a vibrancy and historical charm that sets it uniquely apart from other ancient Roman cities. We all got a kick out of the communal shitter......not much privacy back then it appears. I am always amazed at how the Romans constructed these magnificent structures. How did they hoist these multi-ton rocks up in the air and perfectly into place? What sort of tools did they use? How were they able to make such large structures of precision and intricacy without modern machinery and technology? I am sure by now that scholars have developed accurate answers to these relatively simple questions; nonetheless, it is incredible how intricate, brilliant, and resourceful the human mind can be. It is easy to discard ancient civilizations and their people as simply thuggish, unsophisticated, and primitive; or at least intellectually inferior to modern civilizations and their people. However from my personal observations, I have discovered that the previous statement is entirely inaccurate. Yes, like rapidly progressing technology, lifestyles have changed, priorities have changed, and social norms have changed, but has the human mind changed? One only needs to read a bit of Socrates, Confucius, or a paragraph from the Tao De Ching to see that the human mind has seemingly always wandered deeply and vastly. One only needs to look at structures like The Pantheon, The Coliseum, The Great Wall, The Pyramids, and Baalbek to see that brilliant engineers and mathematicians of the past are as great as or greater than those of present day. The ultimate variable that has excelled the modern world is electricity ……….once we discovered how to channel electricity, the sky has been the limit; or has it?

Next stop was Sharingay: a charming ottoman village nestled against the mountainside near Ephesus. The village was in fact quite similar in appearance to your typical Bulgarian village. This was actually not the least bit surprising, seeing that the Ottomans ruled over Bulgaria for 500 years, and of course influenced the late 19th century – early 20th century architecture of Bulgaria. A couple hours into the exploration of the small wine producing town, my body began to weaken. By the time we had left Sharingay, my body was feeble and my stomach was trembling. I initially thought I had just over exerted myself and was suffering from a bit of routine physical exhaustion and dehydration. However, my original diagnoses proved to be entirely inaccurate as the intense feelings of nausea began to kick in.
So............... as Guilchen, Max and Ryan enjoyed a pleasant night out on the town.........I was home violently worshiping the porcelain god, and praying for a quick death.
10-29-2007
After shivering the night away with artificially cold discomfort, I awoke in the morning drenched in sweat and overwhelmed with exhaustion. My muscles ached and my head throbbed as I pondered the horrors of the previous evening. Due to my physical condition, I was forced to forgo the day’s cultural adventures; again, as Ryan and Max wandered around the beautiful city of Izmir, I was chained to my bed and violently tortured by my own body.


Max and Ryan returned to Guilchen's pad around 12:30am with incredible stories of adventure, kindness and stupidity. Ahhhhhhhhhhh, it appears that I again missed out on quite an escapade. I can only imagine how great their evening was.......it was a national Turkish holiday, so the streets were packed with people celebrating. The entire country was actually blanketed with large Turkish flags and pictures of their hero Attaturk. I had a difficult time shaking off feelings of anger and disappointment; my weak body had betrayed me and had prevented me from experiencing potentially unforgettable things.

From the information I have gathered, it is entirely accurate to label Izmir as the most secular large city in Turkey. Izmir’s modern, laid back, and relatively progressive social scene ensured Max and Ryan the time of their life. Unfortunately my personal observations of Izmir do not span much further than my host’s apartment.
10-30-2007
I had slept decently the night before and as a result woke up feeling low on energy, but slightly better. We said farewell to Guilchen (our favorite person in Izmir) and boarded a 12:00pm bus for Denizlie. We arrived in Denizlie at around 3:30pm and were immediately greeted by our hosts Baha and Semi, and Mustafa (Textile Engineering Students). After being guided through the pungent smelling fish market and through the crowded city streets on a small city bus, we had arrived at Mustafa's pad. I again was feeling far too weak and under the weather to adequately socialize, and was left alone at Mustafa’s apartment to rest. Mustafa's house was pleasantly filthy........it reminded me of my home during the college years; comfortable, yet hygienically on the verge of perilous. Actually, Mustafa's house was probably even worse............So in conclusion, I can see that young men on their own, no matter what nationality or geographic location, are in fact filthy creatures. Our natural reaction to lack of cleanliness is no reaction; consequently, young men on their own for the first time can easily live a lifestyle that would make most women cringe with disgust.
After sleeping the day away on Mustafa’s couch, I awoke feeling refreshed and surprisingly pleasant. I had beaten the food poisoning at last!

Max, Ryan and Mustafa returned to the house around 11:00pm gleaming with smiles and speaking of a wonderful night out with a large crew of Denislie's textile engineering students. Again, I can do little more than complain about missed opportunity.
Mustafa turned out to be an excellent guy; his caring attitude and hospitality made me feel right at home in his apartment. He insisted that I take his bed, and was constantly making sure that I was well and comfortable. I only wish I had more time to spend with the Denizlie crew, perhaps next time.
10-31-2007
After sleeping no less than 20 hours the day before, I awoke in Denizlie feeling absolutely wonderful. My health had returned to around 80% and I was now able to return to my adventures and enjoy time spent with my friends and host. Mustafa escorted us to Pamukale, a nearby tourist attraction filled with Roman ruins and incredible mineral deposits. We began our journey through Pamukale by exploring a grassy hillside filled with ancient roman tombs. The area was filled with tombs, ancient roads, large and small buildings, and even a massive roman amphitheater. These Roman ruins led up to the grand finale, which were the natural chalk deposits of Pamukale. The sight of this natural treasure was absolutely incredible; any written description I may attempt to bring this area to life will inevitably fail miserably. The mineral springs and salt deposits created a large cluster of clear-blue mineral pools surrounded by white chalk that creeps over the steep hillside and emulates a series of beautiful frozen waterfalls. Irresponsibility and neglect associated with mass tourism during the early 20th century has marginally dimmed the vibrancy of the area by dirtying the once bright white chalk that consumes the entire area. Though decades of selfish improprieties have slightly cheapened the landmarks appeal, it is still nonetheless magnificent, and truly a gift and treasured masterpiece from mother nature. In recent years, great efforts have been made to curb irresponsible tourism, in an attempt to preserve, and bring back the area to its historical level of greatness.
We said farewell to Mustafa at around 4:30pm and were soon on our way to Konya. Despite my diluted energy,........I was feeling great. My lack of nausea made me feel alive again. Food poisoning while on the road, proved to be a horrific experience. In spite of lingering stomach problems, and diminished levels of energy; my body was now holding it’s own against the elements and more than able to handle social interactions.
We arrived in Konya at around 8:00pm and were greeted by our hosts Selda, Unsal, and his wonderful girlfriend____ who happens to be a news anchor. After sharing a couple of pizzas and an enlightening conversation\debate that took us into the early morning…........we hit the sack. Ryan, Max and I slept smashed together in a small room, but were more than content because the apartment was cozy and clean. This time we were staying in the home of three college girls, a polar opposite of Mustafa's pad.
11-1-2007
We arose at around 10:00am, and enjoyed a wonderful breakfast made by our host Selda. Selda was a sweet young college girl in her early 20s, who spoke hardly any English, so as you can imagine the communication was to say the least, patchy. Her warm smile and kindhearted giggle, helped buffer over the communication gaps which bread misunderstanding and confusion.
Max, Ryan and I entered the center of Konya at around 12:00pm and began our exploration. We began with Mevlana: a museum of tombs, old books, and religious artifacts of the Muslim - Sufi (Whirling Dervishes). Konya was the Islamic capital of the Ottoman Empire, and the host of one of the earliest Sufi communities. A distinct and regionally specific Sufi (Islamic sect, non-orthodox, literally meaning: free thinker) tradition is Turkey’s Whirling Dervishes.

Using a nail in the floor for guidance, a Whirling Dervish will spin in circles often more than 2,000 times in a row, while drifting into a spiritual trance. They feel that they are able to speak with Allah only when they reach certain meditative states. The Dervishes are able to walk away from the whirling without the slightest bit of disorientation or dizziness.
After Mevlana, Ryan and I stumbled across a back alley barber shop where we decided to clean ourselves up a bit by getting a straight razor shave from an expert. Ryan, being the jokester he is, had the barber shave him a traditional moustache. Throughout the rest of our time in Turkey, the locals would often tell Ryan that he looked very Turkish, and Ryan of course would each time gleam with pride.
Konya is a huge city with a very conservative reputation; it is in many ways the opposite of Izmir. Though we did appreciate the contrast and did enjoy the city’s deep rooted traditions; we came across an unfortunate snag that we will undoubtedly never forget.

Max, Ryan and I had recently become hooked on backgammon, so when we came across a back alley tea shack, we entered without hesitation. The idea was to use our newfound obsession as a gateway into the local social scene. Thus far, these Turkish tea shacks had been hospitable and generally erupting with friendly locals.

Strangely, the men in this particular cafe met us with unwelcome stares and suspicious faces. The awkwardness and intimidation did not soon vanish. After we had finished our tea, a man approached us and began to angrily inquire about our nationality. After it had become known that we were American, he stood up irately and yelled "Bush, Bush" and followed these words with physical gestures of shooting a bunch of people with a machine gun (with sound effects and everything). This uncomfortable situation came to a head when the fiery eyed man began pointing at the door and yelling “go go go”. All of the men in the café stared at us silently and displayed little emotion as the angry old man adamantly expelled us from the dark café. The point was taken............. and we left the premises with our heads down in shameful silence. Unfortunately anti-Americanism is a very real and apparent thing throughout the Muslim world. It has become a burden for all traveling Americans throughout the world. Hating Americans has become hip in Europe and increasingly visible throughout the Muslim world. Such is life I suppose, the only thing I/we can do is show the world through intellectual debate and noble actions that we are not the Muslim hating war mongers that they many people think we are.
At round 8:00pm we met up with Ihsan a tall humorous Turkish fellow who was responsible for our accommodations. Ihsan escorted us to 'Sun TV' where we watched Unsal's girlfriend give the evening news to the people of Izmir. After a half dozen cups of tea and a rather ridiculous debate about the war in Iraq, we were off to dinner. We were taken to a small roadside restaurant where we all ate some sort of spicy vegetable paste on leaves of lettuce. It was not terrible, but was a bit much for my freshly stable stomach.

We finished our evening with warm conversations and several puffs of tobacco from large nargiles (hookahs/Shishas/Water Pipes). Our new friends in Konya were a pleasure to be around, and thankfully the communication barrier had been demolished thanks to the English language proficiency of Ihsan and Unsal.
11-2-2007
We woke up bright and early and by 9:00am were on a bus heading to the city of Dureme in the Cappadocia region of Turkey. I had heard many wonderful things about the Cappadocia region, and was incredibly excited to finally be able to explore the area personally.

We arrived in Dureme around noon and easily found a cheap hostel situated snugly in a sandstone cave on the edge of town. After a quick rest; we were off to the underground city of Kamakli. Kamakli is an 8 floor deep underground city consisting of a network of tunnels, staircases, and rooms that are an estimated 4,000 years old. They were most notably used as hideouts by Christian settlements during the 5-9 centuries (maybe off a bit). The Christians, fearing persecution, were able to completely hide out and shield themselves from the dangers of religious persecution. With help from underground cities throughout the Cappadocia region, Christians were able to escape violent oppression and maintain their religion through the difficult years of conflicting theology.

I found the caves to be brilliant in all aspects of the word, and completely fascinating. How could these people live in such a place? Claustrophobia and boredom must have been a bit overwhelming, but at least they were able to hold onto their lives and religious freedom. It was interesting to see the large disk shaped rocks which were once used to block the city doorways and to hear about all of the other methods that were once used to elude enemies. Not only was this underground city ridiculously deep and extensive, but it connected by tunnel to many of the nearby homes, and even to another cave city 10km away (Derinkuyu).

That evening we had the pleasure of meeting some interesting and friendly travelers from all around the globe. I always enjoy congregating with members of the backpacking subculture to trade adventure stories, and acquire travel knowledge and tips. Among the travelers at the hostel were two returned Peace Corps Volunteers who served in Kyrgyzstan from 2002-2004. Max and I had a great time taking turns telling Peace Corps War stories over beers.

.........................................a couple notable stories by : ............................. Kyrgyzsan RPCV Mitko.........................................................

In Kyrgyzstan it is an age old tradition to steal your wife..........................seriously! So how it works is like this..............................A man finds a girl that he is interested in, he pulls up in a car kidnaps her with the help of some family members. Next the woman is taken to the man’s house where she is greeted by the gentleman’s mother and sisters. So while the sisters and mother are convincing the woman to stay, the father is at the victims’ house giving a gift (a dowry) to the girl’s father (usually a horse, some cash and a few goats or sheep). The stolen woman will be forced to stay at the man’s home for three days and then is released if the woman refuses to marry.

The catch is that the woman has already spent a night in the man’s home and even if not raped, the whole community assumes intercourse happened. Therefore, she is not as innocent and clean as she once was. As it turns out most women stay with the bridenapper and get married because of the overwhelming stigma that is placed on the women that refuse to marry. Because of this, she may never get another chance to marry.

I find this to be a bit ridiculous..............but I have been assured by Mitko, that this is in fact the way things are done in Kyrgyzstan. Also, one may assume that it would be easy to avoid a crazy guy patrolling the streets looking for ladies, but from what I hear the guys are quite tricky. Mitko told me that one of his colleagues had been stolen 3 times already, but has refused to marry. (see more about this social epidemic in my Kyrgyzstan Chapter)

.....................Story number two involves a PCV who went on a hike in the hills with his host sister. As he was climbing the hillside near his town he was approached by two men on horseback. The men started yelling at the Peace Corps Volunteer, and telling him that he was a Russian and was going to take this girl up on the hillside for sex. The volunteer tried frantically to explain his innocence, but the men would not budge on their assumption. After a bunch of bad noise, the horsemen dismounted and began to brutally beat the young American volunteer. The beating continued for about a half an hour until the local villagers rescued the PCV by scaring the horsemen off with shots fired from their Stolichnikovs (Russian AK- 47s). .....................................................................................................................................
Trading Peace Corps stories and experiences is always a good time. Our experiences are all quite diverse, and our country’s cultures’ significantly different. I hope to meet more PCVs and RPCVs in the near future and hear all about their strange and crazy experiences.

11-3-2007

We involuntarily woke up early in our cave because of an early arriving Japanese backpacker who found it appropriate to fiddle with his bag for about an hour at around 6am.

After Breakfast, Max, Ryan, and I decided to do a bit of exploring. We chose to venture into a nearby canyon and to follow it as far as we could. We ended up Hiking and climbing through the canyon for hours and exploring every interesting looking cave along the way. The canyons within the Cappadocia region are filled with abandoned cave dwellings carved into the sandstone hillside. Many of the caves are artistically carved and have several adjoining rooms. A few of the caves we explored expanded up to 4 levels, each one accessible only by a 3ft wide hole in the floor; a ladder of some sort must have been used during the time of occupancy. The Cappadocia region of Turkey reminded me of Petra, Jordan; both containing a vast number of intricately designed cave dwellings. The caves in Dureme are incredibly vast and practical but lack the astounding architecture, intricacy, and geological beauty of Petra, Jordan

After several hours of climbing, hiking, and exploring the region’s incredible canyons; we stopped in a nearby town and visited the castle of Ughisfir. The castle was basically a giant hill of sandstone that had been carved up like Swiss cheese. We comprehensively enjoyed exploring the castle and marveling at the view from the top. As I am writing now several days after leaving Cappadocia; I can’t help but think I left the region too soon. Four days was not nearly enough time to adequately explore the region and soak up its beauty and charm.

11-4-2007

Max and I bid farewell to our friend Ryan (he is part of the working world, and could only spare a couple weeks away from his job) and began our day by exploring the fairy Chimneys nearby our hostel. The massive sand pillars looked like giant.............um................carrots. Two of the large sandstone pillars were hollowed out with rooms carved into them; most likely used as ancient watch towers. With childlike curiosity, Max and I took the liberty of exploring these enormous naturally formed towers. Max and I used our MacGyver skills with a stick and a rock, and were able to hoist ourselves into the cave at the base of one of the towers. As we explored the cave I noticed a large hole in the ceiling. The 2ft hole in the ceiling turned out to be a passageway to the upper chamber. The barely accessible hole opened into a 3x3 square shaped chute that connected to the upper chamber 50ft above. The vertical tunnel had shallow notches (4inch x 4inch) about every 2 feet on each side of the shaft for footing. Even though several of the shallow foot holes were eroded and nonfunctioning, I decided to go for it. After about 10ft of climbing, I began to feel a bit uneasy about my predicament. My visibility was very minimal, and it became increasingly obvious that a slight footing error could easily result in a disastrous fall down the narrow chute. I was physically shaking by the time I had reached the top of the chute and peered my head into the secret room. I was around fifty feet high in the chute and only had a few inches of foot space on each side of me as a lifeline. Consumed by fear and adrenaline, I decided that enough was enough. I briefly observed the upper room before carefully beginning my decent down the dark chimney chute. I began to regain my composure as I slowly lowered myself down into the first chamber. I found it to be marginally more challenging on the way down due to the lack of visibility; my body seemed to block what little light was available. So anyways, that was my Indiana Jones adventure of the day. Probably not that exciting to read about..............but for me it was quite a rush.

11-5-2007

It rained all day; our optimistic hopes of enjoying another wonderful day of hiking were bitterly shattered. The day became even worse when Max returned from the town center with some very unfortunate news. Due to an unforeseen circumstance, he found it necessary to return home immediately. It was something that he definitely had to do and a stateside obligation that he is better for fulfilling. He will be missed greatly and will hopefully rejoin me on the road in the not so distant future. So it looks like I am now on my own and will have no one to share my adventures with. Life is full of unexpected changes; however, I am sure things will work themselves out. I just hope that I will be able to maintain enough courage and motivation to complete my journey as planned.

11-6-2007

I woke up early with a chalky throat, lingering frustration, confusion, and mild depression. I am on my own now, and have no other choice but to try and make the best of my situation. I boarded the 7:30am bus out of Dureme for Nevisher and soon after was on a bus from Nevisher to Nidge. After arriving in Nidge, I decided that I no longer wanted to pay the high prices for bus tickets, and would instead travel by hitchhiking. Unfortunately for the Turks, when the overexerted and collapsed Ottoman Empire was dissolved and divided, the Turks were left with a chunk of land with a very minimal amount of petrol resources. And because of this, petrol prices and correlating public transportation costs are disproportionately high in Turkey.

Despite the monsoon like rains and uncontrollable weather; I headed to the freeway in search of free transport. After about 30 minutes of drenching rain, a large semi-truck pulled over along the side of the freeway and gave me a lift.

The grisly looking middle aged truck driver greeted me with a warm smile and a “Mier Heba”(hello)………and I responded with “Mier Heba, teshecue edeyum”(hello,… thank you). The truck was on its way to Bagdad with a truckload of supplies for the American Government/Military. I did not pry for more details because the guy already thought I was English, and for the sake of peace and comfort I declined to correct him. After about thirty minutes of easy conversation with a bit of help from the simple phrases section of my Lonely Planet guide book,….we were both consumed by silence. To pass the time and break up the monotony of freeway travel, we occasionally smoked cigarettes and halfheartedly attempted to communicate with one another. A few hours later we stopped for lunch.

We met up with a crew of my driver’s raggedy looking trucker buddies at a roadside diner in an incredibly desolate area alongside the roadway. My driver’s pals kindly ordered me some traditional lamb kebab with flatbread, and also made sure I had a hot cup of black tea in front of me at all times. These working class Turks showed an incredible amount of kindness and hospitality as they took me under their wing and treated me(a stranger) as an honored guest. Soon after, we were back on the road to future adventures. We didn’t talk much during the ride; every so often he would point his leathery hand out the window and muster something incomprehensible (to me). I would then agree with him by nodding with an interested looking facial expression. I smoked about 5 cigarettes during my journey with the Turkish truck driver, not because I am a smoker, but because he offered, and I figured it would be more polite and sociable of me to smoke with my driver than to decline.

I arrived in Osmanyie as the fiery red clouds in the sky were beginning to submit their powers to the night. Darkness fell around me as I walked along the grassy roadside with my thumb raised. After about an hour of unsuccessful hitching, a mini bus pulled over and gave me a ride to Kadirli.

My eyes began to widen and the adrenaline began to flow as the minibus pulled into the small bus station in Kadirli. I was now submerged in the deep rooted jungle of cultural purity. A city far enough away from the tourist track to offer an accurate glimpse into the relatively unmodified rural Turkish lifestyle. Watchful eyes and inquisitive faces became attached to my every move as I began to walk across the muddy parking lot. Friendly locals began approaching me with warmth and enthusiasm. Several teenagers took me under their wing and were thrilled by the opportunity to practice their English with a true American. I had not been in Kadirli for more than thirty minutes before I was certain that I had found a geographic nugget of purity and unforeseen bliss. Kadirli was pleasantly simple yet bursting at the seams with culture. Though I found several aspects of this city to be somewhat mundane, I was impressed by how Kadirli appeared to be unspoiled by uncontrolled tourism and damaging industrialization. It was/is the perfect Turkish town, finally a place where I could slow down my pace and soak up a bit of knowledge, serenity, and Islamic culture.

At around 7pm I made a phone call and soon after was greeted by my host Gohkan. After spending a few minutes getting to know each other, my host enthusiastically escorted me to his home. Gohkan is a warm, genuine, young, (my age) English teacher with an appetite for travel and foreign cultures. One of the first things we spoke about was his recent journey to Iran. His stories punctured my curiosity and strangely left me unfulfilled. As much as I desire to visit Iran and gaze upon the historical cities of ancient Persia; I know in my heart that this is currently an impossibility. Until some major diplomatic changes are made, Americans will not be allowed to explore the magnificent wonders of Iran freely. Gohkan welcomed me warmly into his modest home and ensured me that I was now part his family. Gokhan’s father, mother and younger brother were all equally welcoming and hospitable. I immediately felt at home amongst my new host family, and was assured by them that I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted. How could these people be so kind to a complete stranger? I began to see a cultural pattern forming; Muslims expel kindness and hospitality in abundance. I am starting to feel as if I am in on a secret that the Western world is completely oblivious to.

Instantaneously, I began to appreciate Gokhan’s family dynamic. They were all very optimistic, happy, and humorous. Perhaps my favorite of the bunch was Gokhan’s father. He was an energetic jokester and the ultimate football fanatic. I began to appreciate his slew of English phrases that he would blurt out at random with an infectious smile. I found it very inspiring to see the way he encouraged his children to speak English.

After a delicious and hearty Turkish meal, we all sat down in the living room and watched a Turkish football match. As we sat on the couch socializing and watching the match, Gokhan’s mother continuously brought us food to snack on. It all started with some peanuts, next came some sort of hard grain snack that tasted like a mixture of raw wheat and sour kraut, and to finish the meal we were all given a large bowl of fresh fruit. I must say, I could really get used to this sort of lifestyle. It was great being treated as part of the family, and refreshing to be in a place where I am both accepted and appreciated. It has been far too long since I have felt the nurturing touch of a family atmosphere. Living alone and in far separation from any sort of familiar support network can weigh heavily upon ones soul. I remember not long ago when dark shadows began to linger within me at frightening depths. My often bleak and painful Peace Corps lifestyle is now in the past, and I am currently presented with glimmers of sunlight shown through a family that has no logical reason for treating me with such vast amounts of warmth and generosity.

Gohkan’s father took me to work with him the following morning and fed me a wonderful breakfast of unrefined honey, olives, salami, cheese, homemade butter and flat bread. We hung out in his stationary store for a few hours and shared tea as we met with all of his visiting friends and customers. For lunch we drove to Gohkan’s mother’s school where we ate more traditional Turkish food in the school’s cafeteria.

The kids at the school were animals; it was hilarious to see how excited they were to see a foreigner. After being escorted from office to office meeting the school officials and drinking mass quantities of Turkish tea...........I began to really enjoy the experience. Every time we entered the hallway or playground we were surrounded by amped up children begging me to shake their hand, and shouting out simple English phrases and words. The kids stampeded toward me like a pack of goats to a lone bale of hay. It was comical trying to eat lunch while group after group of kids would come into the cafeteria and swarm my table. My unmerited celebrity status was a bit overwhelming at times........and made me feel like an Ethiopian in a snow storm. The sporadically toothed security guard sporting a green military jacket and a warm smile had a rough time controlling the kids. He would yell and physically force the kids out of the cafeteria about every 5 minutes, or when the crowds became a bit wild. At one point he picked up a brick shaped metal napkin holder, and chased the school kids out of the room with his improvised weapon in firing position.

11-9-2007

Well...............the last few days here have been absolutely incredible! I have felt at home here thanks to the warmth and hospitality of my wonderful hosts. I have been paraded around town like a visiting son, and included in all sorts of interesting social events. I have been taken to three different schools and have done simple English lessons with several classes at each school. I mostly played a bit of Q and A with the kids.................and of course my questions were quite varied. The kids would ask me everything from: do you like milk...............to do you like Bush? Haha…. crazy kids…

I have been watching football matches with Gohkan’s father every evening and have enjoyed his company thoroughly. My time here in Kadirli has been remnant of my early Peace Corps life. My frequent boredom and awkwardness has been greatly overshadowed by the joys of basic integration and the knowledge and experienced gained through cross cultural exchanges.

Today is Gohkan’s birthday so we went out to lunch at his favorite liver joint. Gohkan considers himself a liver connoisseur and was eager to take me to the best goat liver restaurant in town. We traversed through a couple alleys to get to the cement sheltered BBQ pit. Foot high stools were pulled up along a narrow table on the edge of the pit & grill. I was seated directly in front of the chopping block that hosted large chunks of dark purple liver and yellow colored chunks of animal fat. The restaurant was charming, simple, and brutally authentic. A stack of metal skewers containing small chunks of liver and fat were placed in front of us on the long narrow grill. We enjoyed our large portion of liver skewers with spiced salad and flat bread while washing it down with salty beet. I had to adamantly insist on paying for the bill because in spite of it being Gohkan’s birthday, he sincerely wanted to pay for our meal.

After lunch, Gohkan and I met up with a couple of his buddies who run a book store in the middle of town. While waiting for the guys to arrive; I casually looked at a small red planner book before putting it back on the shelf and was soon after taken to a back room for some more nonverbal conversation and a cup of tea. After a few minutes the crew and I headed for the door, but before I made it to the front door, I was presented with a bag containing the red planner and a pen as a gift. I am beginning to feel inspired by all of the random acts of kindness that I have experienced within country;...............it will be very difficult for me to leave this wonderful country.

For dinner, Gokhan and I went to the home of a teacher at Gohkan’s school. I had met her the previous day at her school and was immediately invited by her to come to her home for dinner. I had originally planned to leave the following morning for Antakya…….but figured it would be wise to take advantage of the gracious hospitality while it was so prevalent and in such abundance.

Dinner was excellent and the experience was quite educational and interesting. We ate our meal on the floor because the prophet Mohammed ate his meals on the floor. It was quite an experience because I had no idea this family was so religiously conservative. I guess the wig should have given it away. When I met this women she was wearing a tacky and unattractive looking wig. I did not inquire about the wig simply because I assumed that she was a cancer patient, and that her health was not any of my business. I later found out that she wore this wig as a way to beat the system, and hold on to her religious values and principles. She used the wig as a make shift head scarf to affectively cover her real hair. This is completely necessary in her situation because of Turkey’s ‘Church and State’ laws. Women are not allowed to wear head scarves in government/State buildings, which include schools. It is the Turkish government’s controversial way of ensuring the survival of a secular and progressive Turkey.

11-12-07

After hesitantly leaving my recently acquired Turkish family; I hitchhiked to Antakya, a southern city with deep Christian roots. Nervousness and uncertainly began numbing my enthusiasm after a car load of cops pulled over and lectured me about hitchhiking. The interrogation was short lived due to the language barrier; essentially the cops became frustrated and left me alone. Shortly after, a couple college kids picked me up and took me to Antakya. When we arrived in Antakya they took me to their favorite restaurant for lunch. It was basically a few stools and a shabby newspaper covered table on top of a meat market. I slammed my head pretty hard on the ceiling as I made my way up the Stairs/ladder to the second floor. After a delicious kebab sandwich and some amusing diologue of gestures and broken English, they paid the bill and took me to the address of my host Koray. The guys were great…….and made me promise I would stay with them next time I was in Adana (their home town).

Koray (my host), is a secular Turk in his late 20s who works as a professor at a nearby university. He was hospitable, generous, and helpful but was slightly arrogant and judgmental when it came to American Culture.

Excursions-
11-13-07
I visited St. Peters Cave church the second day I was here. The Church is incredibly old and is said to be the first Christian Church in the world. Antakya is a city that is located within the region of ancient Antioch. (***briefly describe Antioch, and the history of St. Peters Church)

Next I visited the ruins of St. Simon’s monastery. I began by taking a dolmus (mini-bus) out of Antakya about 17km and then continued by hiking up the 7km road to the monastery. At the base of the steep dirt road, a couple Turkish guys in their early 30s picked me up and took me to the monastery. After we arrived at the abandoned monastery, the guys walked me around the ruins for about an hour. After we had explored the area in depth, we loaded back into their vehicle and headed back to their barely accessible village for lunch and tea. After the meal and a lot of comfortable silence (they did not speak a word of English)..they drove me all the way back to Antakya.

{ St. Simon’s monastery is another historical church……..basically, St. Simon was a wise and progressive prophet who do to being a bit stubborn and controversial ended up living a monk/outcast-like lifestyle on the edge of town. He started living and preaching on a small pillar. His followers greatly valued his teachings and constantly came to him for advice. His followers began to earn a reputation of doing whatever St Simon said. Sound familiar yet???????? This is the dude that sparked the game ‘Simon Says’. As the story goes, St Simon lived 40 years on the pillar while periodically raising its height. By the time St Simon passed away the pillar was said to be around 9-11 meters high.}
-There is also a St. Simon’s monastery in Northern Syria…………so uncontested authenticity has yet to be established.

11-14-07

Today I went on a long day trip to some of the surrounding villages. I began by taking a dolmus to Samandag, and from there walking 7km to the town of Hiderbey. This little mountain town is home to an absolutely enormous tree, which was my reason for the trip. Legend has it that Moses placed his staff on the ground in Hiderbey and from that point a tree began to grow;………so yeah, it must be a pretty old tree. After a cup of tea and a few photos, I hitched a ride on the back of a make shift tractor to Vakifli.

Vakifli is an old Armenian Village that overlooks the ocean………….besides the view, an old church, and some organic fruit………there was not much there. However, the local villagers were quite friendly and hospitable. I became locked into a social holding cell as one of the local pensioniers bought me a cup of tea and talked to me for about an hour in Armenian as he thumbed his prayer beads. The only thing I got out of the conversation was that he was Armenian and that his religion was Armenian Orthodox.

Next I headed to Celvik where I spent a few hours exploring a giant cave and the ruins of the ancient city of Seleucia Pieria. The ancient city was formed in 305BC,………and the ruins are absolutely amazing. The Tunnel of Titus is an enormous tunnel carved through the hillside in order to protect the area from floods. It is narrow and about 40 meters high in parts. I also really enjoyed the intricately carved chambers of tombs and graves that were carved into the hillside
So anyways I hope all is well back in the States…….Things are great here on the road. I am having the time of my life and learning and experiencing incredible things. Please keep in touch via email. I do get lonely from time to time……and of course I miss you all. Celvik was definitely the highlight of the day. The view from the top of the large hill was breathtaking. Pink clouds delicately reflected off the dark blue sea creating an image of heavenly beauty. The wind gently blew the tall brown grass along the hillside of scattered ruins. It was a perfect time and place for personal reflection and an introverted analysis of my recent experiences.

I am heading to Syria tomorrow morning………….so the adventure continues.



Ephesus:



Konya:




Pamukale:



Kadirli:


Cappodocia:








Hiderbey:


St Simon: pillar in middle

Lunch with my new friend and his family in village near by


St Peters:


Celvik:






More picks from Max are on www.flickr.com/photos/maxwellwoods