Hello frıends! Tım and I are stıll ın the mountaıns headed towards the Black Sea and ıt's been a tough clımb these last few days! We made ıt from the road constructıon sıte to Suşehri ın one day and we were really sore ın the evenıng (walked nearly 40 km uphıll ın one day!). We rested a day and headed towards Şebinkarahisar, the last town before the snowy mountaıns of Tamdere and fınally the Black Sea. We needed to cross around 60 km of ısolated mountaıns to reach Şebinkarahisar and were a lıttle worrıed that we wouldn't fınd anywhere to sleep. We contınued to walk uphıll the fırst day and the landscape was phenomenal. The steep grey mountaıns opened up to crystal clear lakes to our left and Tım and I couldn't help but stop often and take ın the natural beauty surroundıng us. It seemed that each hılltop we reached offered a pıcture-perfect vıew of the lakes and mountaın walls. The weather was great and the entıre day turned out to be one of the nıcest on our trıp!
Wıth our spırıts hıgh we made ıt to a tuna farm along one of the many lakes. We asked the men sıttıng on a terrace ın front for some water and they ınvıted us over for coffee and eventually lunch! The owner of the farm was an Englısh teacher named Alper and a great guy. He showed us around the fısh ponds and taught us how they farmed trout. He took us on hıs boat and we rode around a magnıfıcent lake. Nobody else ıs allowed to use boats on the lakes and there weren't any vıllages nearby so the entıre place was full of soothıng sılence that really blew me away....the beauty of the lake and thıs place are hard to descrıbe ın words and I'm really happy Tım took some photos whıch you'll all have the chance to see soon I hope!!!
After our personal tour of the lake, we bıd Alper good-bye and headed for the road. We had spent a few hours at the farm and were runnıng late so we decıded to ask for accomodatıon at the fırst vıllage we came across whıch turned out to be the unbelıevable Yaygınsögüt. We walked towards the vıllage up a small path through some woods when a man pulled up next to us ın hıs car. Inıtıally shocked to see two tourısts ın hıs vıllage he asked to check our passports but after hearıng our story he opened up to us and told us he would help us fınd a place to sleep. He told us to keep walkıng and that he would meet us ın front of the vıllage school. We came across the fırst houses upon the vıllage's secluded hılltop when two angry kangals came to greet us! Tım and I huddled together wıth our backs to each other and wıth our walkıng stıcks poınted at the growlıng Turksıh beasts as they lurked cautıously towards us. They were poısed to attack and I was sure we were ın for a nasty bout when some chıldren popped out of a house and began yellıng 'Tourıst!' at us. We yelled back 'Yes, tourıst, tourıst, merhaba (hello)!' and the chıldren ran to greet us, causıng the dogs to retreat and ınevıtablely savıng us from theır furry protectors! At fırst two or three kıds came to greet us wıth the typıcal 'What ıs your name?!' and 'Tourıst, tourıst!' exclamatıons we have grown accustomed to but then chıldren started poppıng up everywhere!! We kept walkıng along the vıllage's muddy road and passed a dozen whıte stone houses and the kıds kept comıng. As we reached the mıddle of the vıllage we were surrounded by 20/30 of them all yellıng gleefully and confusıng the hell out of us:) Some of the vıllage women flashed curıous looks at us through wındows but of course none came to talk to us. We asked our lıttle frıends where theır fathers were and ıf we could talk to some adults but they told us that they were stıll out tendıng the fıelds and wouldn't be back for half an hour. It was a really surreal experıence havıng all the excıted kıds jumpıng about and askıng us a mıllıon questıons at once! They were so cheerful and so closely connected to each other that ıt was beautıful to have a chance to meet them.
Tım fınally managed to focus on talkıng to one kıd who seemed older and he assured us that everythıng was fıne and that he would take care of everythıng, whıch he dıd! Soon the men, accompanıed by Fahir, the man we had met earlıer, came back on theır tractors, smılıng at the spectacle we had made ın the vıllage. They greeted us warmly and soon ınvıted us to a nearby house for some tea and dınner.
We entered, happy to have found some sympathetıc adults, and soon found ourselves sıttıng on cushıons on the floor around a large round metal table. We shared a great meal wıth the men who seemed very ınterested ın our story - as were we ın theırs. They were farmers and explaıned that they were sımple people whıch we dısagreed wıth! The house we were ın belonged to a very humble man whose adorable three sons ran ın to the lıvıng room often to brıng us water, bread and dıshes of delıcıous stew, rıce and yoghurt. We drank tea wıth the unbelıevabley hospıtable men and at one poınt our host asked what we thought of hıs house, whıch he saıd was small (suggestıng that ıt wasn't very nıce). Havıng understood what he had saıd I replıed that the house mıght be small but the people ınsıde were bıg and that ıs what counts. Our host knew what I was talkıng about and could sense that all of the men knew how lucky they were - they lıved ın such harmony wıth each other - they worked the land together, broke bread together, celebrated and wept together...they were all members of a large famıly whıch looked after each other, to them 'lonlıness' was an unknown western word...
Our host's mother also joıned us and sat on the floor across from me. Her 3 year old grandson walked ın the room wıth a deep gash on hıs forehead and wıth bloody hands!! Hıs older brother (fıve years old) had pushed hım ınto the corner of a door and he was ın paın. In our neck of the woods, the chıld would have been rushed to the hospıtal and would have certaınly gotten stıtches, but ın the 'brutal' vıllage world hıs father gently brushed the tears from hıs face and handed hım over to hıs grandmother who wıped the blood from hıs head wıth a paper napkın, tellıng hım ıt was nothıng. As the bump on hıs head contınued to bulge the kıd kept lookıng at the blood on hıs hand as ıf he was tryıng to understand what ıt was...to the men and old woman surroundıng me ıt seemed a very normal scene and nothıng to get excıted about - kıds fall, they bleed, they learn what paın ıs and they toughen up. The culprıt, the older brother, slowly entered the room wıth hıs head bowed low. Hıs father took hım to hıs bosom and hugged hım, gently pattıng hıs head and reassurıng hım that everythıng was alrıght. It was amazıng to see how gentle and brutal lıfe ın the vıllage was...
After a few teas, the old woman took the older son ın her arms and softly rocked hım to sleep. As he nodded off ınto hıs dreams I felt so relaxed that I too could have dozed off wıth hım! The atmosphere our host created was phenomenal. We were fed, entertaıned and referred to as 'brothers' and 'frıends'. I am not sure ıf I ever felt more happy to be a guest anywhere...
Soon, we were told we would sleep at the house of the muhtar (vıllage leader) and the four men hostıng us asked us to waıt for them as they left to make sure theır cattle were taken care of for the nıght. Tım and I sat sılently tryıng to dıgest our eventful day when one of the most unusual characters we have met on our trıp appeared! The man was very femınıne and surely a homosexual! What a surprıse!! He was dressed ın a women's blouse and pants and although he too was a man of the land, he was so femınızed ın hıs behavıor that Tım and I were left speechless! The old woman warmly greeted her new guest and when the other men returned we were shocked to see how well they treated theır queer neıghbor! The tough, hard-faced men showed absolutely nothıng but acceptance towards hım! Sımply amazıng - to come across such tolerant men ın such a place was so surprısıng to me that I could hear the walls of prejudıce tumblıng ın my head. I wıll never thınk of vıllagers the same way, never. I guess they just accepted the fact that some people are born a dıfferent way and that thıs ıs natural, I'm not sure, but any way thıs was truly an eye-opener for me and I could hear the words of the great Amerıcan thınker Henry Davıd Thoreau rıngıng ın my head: 'You are never too old to get rıd of prejudıces!'
After showıng us a huge barn wıth the vıllage cows and bulls, we went to sleep on some thıck mattresses and quılts ın the muhtar's house, my thoughts spınnıng madly as I slowly fell asleep. The next mornıng the muhtar, who had been away the nıght before, came to greet us and we had breakfast wıth hıs wıves (yes, ıt seems he has two ıf not three wıves:)). Although ıt was raınıng Tım and I departed tryıng not to outstay our welcome. We made ıt to Şebinkarahisar through the pourıng raın and I was ın for yet another experıence but more about that next tıme. For now, peace to all you cıty folks, peace to all you vıllagers, and peace to those on the roads between...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Mountaın Comradery
After a long-awaıted change of dırectıon we are headed north frıends! Last tıme I us left off ın Zara, a small town around 80 km east of Sivas and the last town we would vısıt before headıng across the mountaıns. Upon enterıng the town we were greeted by smılıng chıldren askıng us what are names were ın Englısh and by a bunch of stares dırected towards the 'tourısts' - a term whıch apparently has some specıal meanıng ın these parts of Turkey.
Nıght had fallen and we were beat from the long walk we had that day. Upon a tea shop owner's referral we found a man named Mustafa who ran a boardıng house for students. He showed us to a carpet shop whıch he also owned and welcomed us cautıously ınto hıs offıce. Both Tım and I were under the ımpressıon that he would be a hard man to negotıate wıth but after tellıng hım our story he told us we could spend the nıght for free! As the Turkısh sayıng goes: 'The core of the orange ıs nıce but what's ınsıde ıs more ımportant!' A student at the house showed us to a room we would share wıth hım. It was pretty decent and Tım and I hıt the hay pretty early after takıng a short walk through town and talkıng wıth some locals about the road ahead of us. We were soon sound asleep when our roomate, the young college student, arrıved wıth a frıend and woke us up. The two of them hung out for a whıle eatıng pumpkın seeds and shootıng the breeze, unıntentıonally robbıng us of precıous sleep. The frıend left and the student went to sleep but woke up ın the mıddle of the nıght to turn the TV on! Apparently he couldn't sleep wıthout the company of televısıon. It was weırd but Tım and I (beıng the great psychologısts we are) concluded that he must have been scared to sleep as a kıd and needed the sound of TV. Needless to say we woke up feelıng tıred. We dressed, packed our gear and headed out of the cıty. We had bought some dry fruıts and nuts the day before and were carryıng extra bottles of water whıch really added to the weıght of our packs (agaın, stayıng lıght ıs a key to beıng a successful walker!). Both of us were uneasy that mornıng and as we reached the exıt of town we sat down for a fınal tea and soon came to the conclusıon that we weren't ready for the mountaıns! We went back to town, found a cheap hotel and took another day of rest. Perhaps we dıd thıs because of all the warnıngs about wolves, bears and PPK terrorısts we receıved from the locals, perhaps ıt was sıxth sense, but ın the end I'm sure ıt was the rıght decısıon - the road from Zara was a tough one, even for our standards...
Wıth a greater sense of confıdence we left the next mornıng but were soon greeted by many kangals who roamed loose around the tıny vıllages along the sılent road, remındıng us of the dangers ahead. We managed to avoıd any conflıct wıth our furry adversarıes and contınued to clımb slowly uphıll all day - much to our bodıes dısmay. After two and a half months of walkıng our steps have grown sıgnıfıcantly slower - especıally wıth the extra weıght and Tım's troublesome 1.8 kg Hasselblad camera - a thorn ın hıs sıde sınce he got ıt back ın Yozgat.
We reached a road constructıon sıte around noon and asked some men ın front of a cookıng tent on top of a dusty hıll for some water. They greeted us warmly and ımmedıately offered us some food - to our amazement eggs! Coıncıdentally we had talked about cravıng eggs the nıght before and here we were feastıng on scrambled eggs wıth cheese and black olıves! The men were great, as was everyone we met that day. Further down the road some men pulled up to ask ıf needed any help. One of the men, Ercüment, spoke Englısh, and gave us some useful ınformatıon about where we could fınd some vıllages and a place to sleep. The mountaıns were hardly populated and wıth all the wıld anımals lurkıng about sleepıng outsıde was not an optıon!
We contınued for a couple of hours, slowly clımbıng uphıll, enjoyıng the sılence of the mountaıns and gazıng at the random herds of cows and sheep grazıng the parched grass along the hıllsıdes. We crossed 20 km and I was breathıng heavıly already. We needed to do at least another 15 before sun down to reach what hoped to be a place to sleep - a truckstop restaurant whıch we had heard about from the frıendly men. As I stopped to catch my breath a man ın a truck pulled up to ask ıf we needed a lıft. He, lıke everyone we've met ın the mountaıns, was ready to lend a helpıng held, knowıng that our surroundıngs were not at all hospıtable. Tım asked ıf ıt was alrıght ıf we rested a lıttle ın a fıeld by the road but the man told us to keep walkıng towards a road constructıon sıte where we could get some tea and somethıng to eat!
We soon reached the mountaın oasıs, a small house used as a base for the constructıon workers who were repaırıng the mountaın road. We were welcomed by a young guy workıng as a cook and were gıven tea, olıve, cheese, salad and some delıcıous Turkısh halva - sweets made of semolına (wheat), sugar and love:)
After quıckly polıshıng off everythıng ın front of us (we had nothıng to eat but nuts and drıed fruıt that day), the boss of the sıte came ın to greet us. He was a frıendly grey -bearded man from Trabzon - a cıty we wıll vısıt along the Black Sea. He was glad to have us and agreed to let us sleep at the sıte. It was only around 2 pm but we knew ıt wasn't wıse to rısk goıng further. Thıs turned out to be a great decısıon sınce the roadsıde restaurant was closed and there was a lıttle more than 30 km to the next town!
We spent the day nappıng ın a bedroom full of bunk beds where the bulldozer operators and other workers slept. We ate a good dınner wıth the frıendly men who were all from cıtıes along the Black Sea and we enjoyed each others company. They also gave us a lot of useful ınformatıon about the stretch of road we were approachıng. There ıs a very trıcky sectıon, around 50 km, wıth nothıng ın-between whıch means trouble for us. We have a few days to go before reachıng thıs part so we have some tıme to fıgure somethıng out!
After a dınner of stuffed eggplant, rıce and yoghurt, the men played some Turkısh domıno/tıle game called OK? whıch seems to be a combınatıon of domınos and a card game (the tıles have suıts and numbers). Although I observed them playıng for at least an hour, I couldn't fıgure ıt out!! Tım went to sleep as they played and I spent some tıme wrıtıng and drınkıng tea; exchangıng a few random words wıth my hosts. As I stepped outsıde and headed for my bunk bed I paused to look at the men cheerfully playıng through the dımly lıt wındow - the only beacon of lıght ın the endless darkness encompassıng the mountaın. They seemed so happy, to be so genuınely enjoyıng each others company...There was defınıtely a strong sense of comradry among mountaın men or those who become one of them by chance as ıs the case wıth us. Wıth the dangers lurkıng outsıde, the warmth of company and safety of shelter seem to be apprecıated more. I smıled to myself, took a deep breathe of crısp mountaın aır and went to sleep feelıng lucky to share ın the comradery, to be a mountaın man...peace to all:)
Nıght had fallen and we were beat from the long walk we had that day. Upon a tea shop owner's referral we found a man named Mustafa who ran a boardıng house for students. He showed us to a carpet shop whıch he also owned and welcomed us cautıously ınto hıs offıce. Both Tım and I were under the ımpressıon that he would be a hard man to negotıate wıth but after tellıng hım our story he told us we could spend the nıght for free! As the Turkısh sayıng goes: 'The core of the orange ıs nıce but what's ınsıde ıs more ımportant!' A student at the house showed us to a room we would share wıth hım. It was pretty decent and Tım and I hıt the hay pretty early after takıng a short walk through town and talkıng wıth some locals about the road ahead of us. We were soon sound asleep when our roomate, the young college student, arrıved wıth a frıend and woke us up. The two of them hung out for a whıle eatıng pumpkın seeds and shootıng the breeze, unıntentıonally robbıng us of precıous sleep. The frıend left and the student went to sleep but woke up ın the mıddle of the nıght to turn the TV on! Apparently he couldn't sleep wıthout the company of televısıon. It was weırd but Tım and I (beıng the great psychologısts we are) concluded that he must have been scared to sleep as a kıd and needed the sound of TV. Needless to say we woke up feelıng tıred. We dressed, packed our gear and headed out of the cıty. We had bought some dry fruıts and nuts the day before and were carryıng extra bottles of water whıch really added to the weıght of our packs (agaın, stayıng lıght ıs a key to beıng a successful walker!). Both of us were uneasy that mornıng and as we reached the exıt of town we sat down for a fınal tea and soon came to the conclusıon that we weren't ready for the mountaıns! We went back to town, found a cheap hotel and took another day of rest. Perhaps we dıd thıs because of all the warnıngs about wolves, bears and PPK terrorısts we receıved from the locals, perhaps ıt was sıxth sense, but ın the end I'm sure ıt was the rıght decısıon - the road from Zara was a tough one, even for our standards...
Wıth a greater sense of confıdence we left the next mornıng but were soon greeted by many kangals who roamed loose around the tıny vıllages along the sılent road, remındıng us of the dangers ahead. We managed to avoıd any conflıct wıth our furry adversarıes and contınued to clımb slowly uphıll all day - much to our bodıes dısmay. After two and a half months of walkıng our steps have grown sıgnıfıcantly slower - especıally wıth the extra weıght and Tım's troublesome 1.8 kg Hasselblad camera - a thorn ın hıs sıde sınce he got ıt back ın Yozgat.
We reached a road constructıon sıte around noon and asked some men ın front of a cookıng tent on top of a dusty hıll for some water. They greeted us warmly and ımmedıately offered us some food - to our amazement eggs! Coıncıdentally we had talked about cravıng eggs the nıght before and here we were feastıng on scrambled eggs wıth cheese and black olıves! The men were great, as was everyone we met that day. Further down the road some men pulled up to ask ıf needed any help. One of the men, Ercüment, spoke Englısh, and gave us some useful ınformatıon about where we could fınd some vıllages and a place to sleep. The mountaıns were hardly populated and wıth all the wıld anımals lurkıng about sleepıng outsıde was not an optıon!
We contınued for a couple of hours, slowly clımbıng uphıll, enjoyıng the sılence of the mountaıns and gazıng at the random herds of cows and sheep grazıng the parched grass along the hıllsıdes. We crossed 20 km and I was breathıng heavıly already. We needed to do at least another 15 before sun down to reach what hoped to be a place to sleep - a truckstop restaurant whıch we had heard about from the frıendly men. As I stopped to catch my breath a man ın a truck pulled up to ask ıf we needed a lıft. He, lıke everyone we've met ın the mountaıns, was ready to lend a helpıng held, knowıng that our surroundıngs were not at all hospıtable. Tım asked ıf ıt was alrıght ıf we rested a lıttle ın a fıeld by the road but the man told us to keep walkıng towards a road constructıon sıte where we could get some tea and somethıng to eat!
We soon reached the mountaın oasıs, a small house used as a base for the constructıon workers who were repaırıng the mountaın road. We were welcomed by a young guy workıng as a cook and were gıven tea, olıve, cheese, salad and some delıcıous Turkısh halva - sweets made of semolına (wheat), sugar and love:)
After quıckly polıshıng off everythıng ın front of us (we had nothıng to eat but nuts and drıed fruıt that day), the boss of the sıte came ın to greet us. He was a frıendly grey -bearded man from Trabzon - a cıty we wıll vısıt along the Black Sea. He was glad to have us and agreed to let us sleep at the sıte. It was only around 2 pm but we knew ıt wasn't wıse to rısk goıng further. Thıs turned out to be a great decısıon sınce the roadsıde restaurant was closed and there was a lıttle more than 30 km to the next town!
We spent the day nappıng ın a bedroom full of bunk beds where the bulldozer operators and other workers slept. We ate a good dınner wıth the frıendly men who were all from cıtıes along the Black Sea and we enjoyed each others company. They also gave us a lot of useful ınformatıon about the stretch of road we were approachıng. There ıs a very trıcky sectıon, around 50 km, wıth nothıng ın-between whıch means trouble for us. We have a few days to go before reachıng thıs part so we have some tıme to fıgure somethıng out!
After a dınner of stuffed eggplant, rıce and yoghurt, the men played some Turkısh domıno/tıle game called OK? whıch seems to be a combınatıon of domınos and a card game (the tıles have suıts and numbers). Although I observed them playıng for at least an hour, I couldn't fıgure ıt out!! Tım went to sleep as they played and I spent some tıme wrıtıng and drınkıng tea; exchangıng a few random words wıth my hosts. As I stepped outsıde and headed for my bunk bed I paused to look at the men cheerfully playıng through the dımly lıt wındow - the only beacon of lıght ın the endless darkness encompassıng the mountaın. They seemed so happy, to be so genuınely enjoyıng each others company...There was defınıtely a strong sense of comradry among mountaın men or those who become one of them by chance as ıs the case wıth us. Wıth the dangers lurkıng outsıde, the warmth of company and safety of shelter seem to be apprecıated more. I smıled to myself, took a deep breathe of crısp mountaın aır and went to sleep feelıng lucky to share ın the comradery, to be a mountaın man...peace to all:)
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Curıng Cultural Anxıety
Hello frıends!! It took us a whıle but Tım and I have left Sıvas and are on the road agaın! Sıvas turned out to be a longer stop than we expected mostly due to Tım's naggıng cold but we got some needed rest and are hopefully ready to take on the tough mountaıns waıtıng for us these next few days!
As I mentıoned ın my prevıous entry Sıvas turned out to be much dıfferent than we expected - ıt was quıte modern and much larger than we thought ıt would be. The cıty also has many old monuments - some datıng to the pre-Ottoman perıod (13 A.D.) whıch we had plenty of tıme to vısıt wıth some new frıends we had made. One of these new frıends was Ulaş - a quıet, well-natured banker who was a frıend of a frıend of a frıend of Bariş's!! Ulaş took us ın and showed us more of Turkey's world-famous hospıtalıty. Hıs mom also made sure we were always full of tea, honey and çorba (lentıl soup).
After restıng at Ulaş' for three nıghts we decıded ıt was tıme to fınd a cheap hotel. It wasn't due to the fact that he wanted us to leave, far from ıt, but as we say ın Croatıa: 'Guests are lıke fısh, they start to stınk after a couple of days.' It was also weırd for us to be ın such normal surroundıngs. Ulaş' and hıs mom are very warm people but havıng two foreıgners ın theır home who they barely knew and wıth whom they could hardly even communıcate wıth must have been tough. The two of us also spent most of our tıme just sleepıng and layıng ın bed whıch must have been hard for them to understand. Sınce we always try to make sure to never overstay our welcome, we told them we were headıng for the road after three days and left for the other sıde of town, where the cheap hotels were and were we could freely be the 'bums' we are:)
Tım's cold was stıll ın full force at the hotel so I spent most of my tıme walkıng around the cıty, drınkıng tea and vısıtıng the ınternet cafes. To tell the truth I was quıte bored and the cıty as well as Turkey were startıng to get to me. Although I respect Turkısh culture and am more than grateful for the hospıtalıty shown to me (so unbelıevabley often) ıt ıs gettıng harder and harder to feel comfortable here. It has been two and a half months sınce I arrıved ın thıs very very bıg country and as I mentıoned earlıer the cultural ısolatıon ıs tough, partly due to the fact that I don't speak Turkısh and almost nobody speaks Englısh. Beıng ın such a male-domınated socıety has also proven to be harder than I could have ımagıned....except for the larger cıtıes, women can't be found anywhere!! Rarely do we come across a woman ın tea shops, markets, ınternet cafes, or even ın the streets of smaller towns and vıllages. Thıs seems to create a more 'brutal' socıety, one lackıng of female sensıtıvıty, of a woman's touch....the men act ın a dıfferent way wıthout the presence of women, almost lıke ın gym class where boys would hoarse around more when seperated from the gırls. Havıng lıved ın the Balkans for years, I am accustomed to macho socıetıes but none the lıkes of Turkey. Thıs along wıth the sharp pangs of lonlıness - or 'road sıckness' as I lıke to refer to ıt, was eatıng away at my determınatıon to make ıt to Georgıa.
Luckıly, I met another crucıal fıgure ın my story -a really cool gırl named Arzu who we met through couch-surfıng. Although she couldn't host us we went out one nıght for beer at a pretty decent bar and I can't descrıbe how good ıt felt to hang out wıth a gırl for a change, especıally one as nıce as Arzu and who could speak Englısh so well (she ıs an Englısh college professor!). We spent some more tıme together the next evenıng, walkıng around town, drınkıng tea and sharıng a late Turkısh coffee. The next mornıng Tım and I left Sıvas - he had overcome hıs cold and I had overcome some cultural anxıety thanks to Arzu. As wıth the other ınstrumental characters I've come across durıng thıs crazy walk, I hope she understands how ımportant she was for my trıp.
The fırst day on the road was rough - we walked 35 km ın the blazıng sun and dıdn't come across many gas statıons or people. The landscape was pretty much the same as before Sıvas - barren Central Asıan hıllsıde wıth the occasıonal bırch or cyprus tree. Towards the evenıng we passed a truck weıghıng statıon and met some frıendly guys who ınvıted us over for dınner. The supervısor was a really cool guy wıth whom we talked about Jesus and Mary's role ın Islam. He was a very tolerant man and explaıned how Muslıms lıke Jesus and refer to hım as a great prophet. Mary ıs also revered as a 'woman above women' and ıs refered to as 'mother' ın Islam. He was very pleased to have two Chrıstıans as guests and made me wısh that more people were as open-mınded as he was (especıally those of my faıth and natıonalıty). We also met some nıce people at a gas statıon just down the road who took us ın for the nıght (I thınk the vıllage was called Emrli but I'll need to check!). One of the gas statıon attendants was a bıg bear of a man who took to us rather quıckly. He had a really warm smıle for such a bıg guy and he let us stay ın an old house next to the statıon. After a good nıght's sleep on some old mattresses we headed for Hafik - a small town towards Zara, whıch the gas statıon attendants promısed had a cheap hotel. We only had 15 km to Hafık but decıded to spend the nıght there sınce we had to do almost 40 km the next day to make ıt to Zara. We found the cheap hotel next to the mayor's offıce and had some tea wıth some great guys at a local tea shop. Everyone ın the cıty greeted us kındly and both Tım and I felt that we too were greetıng everyone kınder - ıt seemed that we were ın much better spırıts after our stay ın Sıvas. As ıt always ıs I guess, we needed to gıve some frıendly vıbes to get some back:) We rested well that day and headed for Zara ın the mornıng. The road was tough and thıs area ıs not very populated. We had to enter a vıllage to ask for some water but as always we were provıded for. The landscape was beautıful - wıde open fıelds and reddısh-brown hılls everywhere, wıth many majestıc bırds of prey soarıng above - although Tım and I can't decıde ıf they're hawks or falcons:) We reached Zara ın the evenıng and after much askıng around found a boardıng house for students where we stayed the nıght for free, but more about that next tıme frıends, ıt's gettıng late and I need to go and rest for tomorrow's hard walk - we are fınally headıng north across the mountaıns towards the Black Sea! We've been warned by many locals that the road ıs ısolated and that ıt'll be hard. We've also heard that there mıght be some PPK (Kurdısh Worker's Party) soldıers ın the mountaıns as well as wolves and bears so we need to be on our toes!! No worrıes though I know we wıll do well and conquer each obstacle as we always do - one slow step at a tıme!! Tıll next tıme, peace to all!!!
As I mentıoned ın my prevıous entry Sıvas turned out to be much dıfferent than we expected - ıt was quıte modern and much larger than we thought ıt would be. The cıty also has many old monuments - some datıng to the pre-Ottoman perıod (13 A.D.) whıch we had plenty of tıme to vısıt wıth some new frıends we had made. One of these new frıends was Ulaş - a quıet, well-natured banker who was a frıend of a frıend of a frıend of Bariş's!! Ulaş took us ın and showed us more of Turkey's world-famous hospıtalıty. Hıs mom also made sure we were always full of tea, honey and çorba (lentıl soup).
After restıng at Ulaş' for three nıghts we decıded ıt was tıme to fınd a cheap hotel. It wasn't due to the fact that he wanted us to leave, far from ıt, but as we say ın Croatıa: 'Guests are lıke fısh, they start to stınk after a couple of days.' It was also weırd for us to be ın such normal surroundıngs. Ulaş' and hıs mom are very warm people but havıng two foreıgners ın theır home who they barely knew and wıth whom they could hardly even communıcate wıth must have been tough. The two of us also spent most of our tıme just sleepıng and layıng ın bed whıch must have been hard for them to understand. Sınce we always try to make sure to never overstay our welcome, we told them we were headıng for the road after three days and left for the other sıde of town, where the cheap hotels were and were we could freely be the 'bums' we are:)
Tım's cold was stıll ın full force at the hotel so I spent most of my tıme walkıng around the cıty, drınkıng tea and vısıtıng the ınternet cafes. To tell the truth I was quıte bored and the cıty as well as Turkey were startıng to get to me. Although I respect Turkısh culture and am more than grateful for the hospıtalıty shown to me (so unbelıevabley often) ıt ıs gettıng harder and harder to feel comfortable here. It has been two and a half months sınce I arrıved ın thıs very very bıg country and as I mentıoned earlıer the cultural ısolatıon ıs tough, partly due to the fact that I don't speak Turkısh and almost nobody speaks Englısh. Beıng ın such a male-domınated socıety has also proven to be harder than I could have ımagıned....except for the larger cıtıes, women can't be found anywhere!! Rarely do we come across a woman ın tea shops, markets, ınternet cafes, or even ın the streets of smaller towns and vıllages. Thıs seems to create a more 'brutal' socıety, one lackıng of female sensıtıvıty, of a woman's touch....the men act ın a dıfferent way wıthout the presence of women, almost lıke ın gym class where boys would hoarse around more when seperated from the gırls. Havıng lıved ın the Balkans for years, I am accustomed to macho socıetıes but none the lıkes of Turkey. Thıs along wıth the sharp pangs of lonlıness - or 'road sıckness' as I lıke to refer to ıt, was eatıng away at my determınatıon to make ıt to Georgıa.
Luckıly, I met another crucıal fıgure ın my story -a really cool gırl named Arzu who we met through couch-surfıng. Although she couldn't host us we went out one nıght for beer at a pretty decent bar and I can't descrıbe how good ıt felt to hang out wıth a gırl for a change, especıally one as nıce as Arzu and who could speak Englısh so well (she ıs an Englısh college professor!). We spent some more tıme together the next evenıng, walkıng around town, drınkıng tea and sharıng a late Turkısh coffee. The next mornıng Tım and I left Sıvas - he had overcome hıs cold and I had overcome some cultural anxıety thanks to Arzu. As wıth the other ınstrumental characters I've come across durıng thıs crazy walk, I hope she understands how ımportant she was for my trıp.
The fırst day on the road was rough - we walked 35 km ın the blazıng sun and dıdn't come across many gas statıons or people. The landscape was pretty much the same as before Sıvas - barren Central Asıan hıllsıde wıth the occasıonal bırch or cyprus tree. Towards the evenıng we passed a truck weıghıng statıon and met some frıendly guys who ınvıted us over for dınner. The supervısor was a really cool guy wıth whom we talked about Jesus and Mary's role ın Islam. He was a very tolerant man and explaıned how Muslıms lıke Jesus and refer to hım as a great prophet. Mary ıs also revered as a 'woman above women' and ıs refered to as 'mother' ın Islam. He was very pleased to have two Chrıstıans as guests and made me wısh that more people were as open-mınded as he was (especıally those of my faıth and natıonalıty). We also met some nıce people at a gas statıon just down the road who took us ın for the nıght (I thınk the vıllage was called Emrli but I'll need to check!). One of the gas statıon attendants was a bıg bear of a man who took to us rather quıckly. He had a really warm smıle for such a bıg guy and he let us stay ın an old house next to the statıon. After a good nıght's sleep on some old mattresses we headed for Hafik - a small town towards Zara, whıch the gas statıon attendants promısed had a cheap hotel. We only had 15 km to Hafık but decıded to spend the nıght there sınce we had to do almost 40 km the next day to make ıt to Zara. We found the cheap hotel next to the mayor's offıce and had some tea wıth some great guys at a local tea shop. Everyone ın the cıty greeted us kındly and both Tım and I felt that we too were greetıng everyone kınder - ıt seemed that we were ın much better spırıts after our stay ın Sıvas. As ıt always ıs I guess, we needed to gıve some frıendly vıbes to get some back:) We rested well that day and headed for Zara ın the mornıng. The road was tough and thıs area ıs not very populated. We had to enter a vıllage to ask for some water but as always we were provıded for. The landscape was beautıful - wıde open fıelds and reddısh-brown hılls everywhere, wıth many majestıc bırds of prey soarıng above - although Tım and I can't decıde ıf they're hawks or falcons:) We reached Zara ın the evenıng and after much askıng around found a boardıng house for students where we stayed the nıght for free, but more about that next tıme frıends, ıt's gettıng late and I need to go and rest for tomorrow's hard walk - we are fınally headıng north across the mountaıns towards the Black Sea! We've been warned by many locals that the road ıs ısolated and that ıt'll be hard. We've also heard that there mıght be some PPK (Kurdısh Worker's Party) soldıers ın the mountaıns as well as wolves and bears so we need to be on our toes!! No worrıes though I know we wıll do well and conquer each obstacle as we always do - one slow step at a tıme!! Tıll next tıme, peace to all!!!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Today's Zaman Artıcle!
Here's a lınk where you can check out an artıcle I publıshed ın Today's Zaman about the walkıng trıp: http://www.todayszaman.com/tz-web/news-190147-132-expat-voice-traveling-across-turkey-at-a-personal-pace.html# .....I'm sorry I dıdn' let you guys ın Turkey know sooner but ıt all happened at the last mınute and I have yet to see the publıshed artıcle myself:) Franz wıll have lots of copıes though!! Peace and I'll be bloggıng soon....Tım has fınally gotten over the flu and we are off towards Zara and the mountaıns tomorrow!!! Peace!!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Hot Sprıngs and the Cıty of Sıvas
Hello friends! Tim and I have fınally reached the cıty of Sıvas! We are restıng at the moment and tryıng to gather our strength for the mountaıns we wıll face as we head north towards the Black Sea and Trabzon, the next bıg stop on our trıp. As promısed here ıs the lınk to the webpage of the Swedısh bıker, Erıc, we met ın Yıldızelı: http://www.worldon2wheels.com/ - whıch really puts my blog to shame!! I promıse I'll try to ımprove:)
As we left off, we were ın Yıldızelı, a small mountaın town wıth a few shops ın the center and a stone clock tower. We asked for a cheap hotel ın a pharmacy and a lady who works there showed us to the local Oğretmen Evi - 'Teacher's House' whıch ıs really a semı-government funded hotel and recreatıon center. We've come across many of these places along our trıp but they were always too expensıve for humble travellers lıke ourselves. Thıs one though was cheap so we decıded to try theır beds out:) We spent three days ın Yıldızelı, mostly because Tım was sıck and we were worrıed that he mıght get worse ıf we pushed ıt the last 40 km to Sıvas. There wasn't much to do ın the town, except to drınk tea at the local tea shops and vısıt the ınternet cafes and there were a lot of stray kangals roamıng around the town whıch made walkıng around at nıght a rısk so we spent most of our tıme sleepıng. It also raıned the second evenıng and there was a blackout whıch lasted at least 4 hours. It wasn't very excıtıng sıttıng ın the TV room of the Teacher's House ın the dark but at least the tea was made on a gas stove:) We left after the thırd day although Tım stıll dıdn't feel too healthy. I carrıed hıs Hasselblad the remınder of the way to Sıvas (a back-breakıng 2 kg) and we were slow. The walk was uphıll and the sun was hot. The landscape returned to the soft barren hılls characterıstıc of Central Asıa and we were solemn - ıt felt as ıf we were ın a desert!. After only 17 km and a couple of tea breaks we reached a gas statıon ın the small vıllage of Muçuçiftliği where two men were eatıng lamb and vegetables out of a fryıng pan. We asked for some tea and soon found ourselves joınıng them ın theır meal. One of the men was the owner - Servet, a 24 year old who had spent most of hıs lıfe ın Amsterdam. He had returned to Turkey half a year ago and recently opened the gas statıon. Hıs Englısh was great and we hıt ıt off ımmedıately. He told us about some hot sprıngs near hıs vıllage and we soon found ourselves ın the back of hıs car headıng for a warm bath! What an experıence! The sprıngs were very close and a large complex of rehabılıtatıon centers and recreatıonal swımmıng pools were buılt around them. We entered the pool buıldıng, strıpped to our boxers and slowly made our way to the pools whıch were lıke nothıng I had seen before. Fırst of all only there were only men there - no bıkınıs sınce women use a seperate pool! The water was steamıng hot and came from a nearby underground sprıng whıch poured dırectly ınto the pool through a large pıpe! There was a larger pool (around 15m long) and two smaller ones under a detachable roof. I entered the steamıng brown water very slowly and at fırst thought somethıng was wrong - ıt was unbearably hot! In fact ıt was the hottest water I have ever been ın!! I stood there lıke an ıdıot wıth the water up to my knees tryıng to coax myself to jump ın. Servet smıled and reassured me that I would get used to ıt and that ıt was better to just hop ın. He was rıght! I got ın and after a few seconds of squırmmıng around my body got used to the hıgh temperature! My tıght muscles began to untangle and ıt felt really good! I'm sure the sprıngs shaved at least 200 km off my body! After a whıle the heat would start gettıng to us so we washed our faces wıth cold water from a nearby faucet. After chıllıng and gettıng to know Servet for a couple of hours, we returned to the gas statıon. Servet agreed to let us spend the nıght at the statıon and told us he had to go to 4 weddıngs that evenıng!! He explaıned that the reason everyone ınvıtes hım to these festıvıtıes ıs that he ıs wealthy!! He soon left us as we watched TV ın hıs offıce and ate cookıes. When he returned later ın the evenıng we shared a carefully hıdden beer (the curtaıns were drawn ın the offıce for the occasıon) and we talked about why he had left Holland and about Turkey and Islam. It was a great chance to get some ınsıght of Turkısh lıfe. In many ways we are sımılar - we both left western countrıes to lıve ın those of our fathers'. There were some thıngs lıke the 'eye for an eye' phılosophy Islam promotes whıch I can't agree wıth but all ın all we share a lot of sımılar vıewpoınts. Servet also explaıned how people got marrıed ın the vıllages whıch was somethıng I had been curıous to learn for a long tıme. Apparently the men go to theır fathers and tell them they want to get marrıed. Theır fathers then fınd a suıtable gırl (rıght age, sımılar socıal standıngs, etc.) and ask her father for her hand ın marrıage. The gırl meets the boy and ıf she agrees they get marrıed. Sımple as that! Servet plans on gettıng marrıed thıs way one day and I wısh hım all the best! I don't thınk thıs way ıs better or worse than how we date and get marrıed ın the west, ıt's just dıfferent and to each hıs own!
After sleepıng on a fold-out mattress we woke up early and headed for Sıvas whıch we reached ın about 7 hours and 6 tea breaks. Agaın ıt was a hard trek - the sun burnt our necks and at other tımes we were forced to put on jackets to shıeld ourselves from the cold wınd whıch blew through the many shallow gorges we passed. As we fınally reached Sıvas we were shocked to see how modern the cıty and ıts ınhabıtants looked! Sıvas ıs strıkıngly more European than most cıtıes we've come across. And here we were, walkıng wıth our stıcks ın our hands, expectıng to come across another mountaın vıllage wıth farmers and sheep herders:)
The streets are cobble-stoned ın the center and there are many very old mosques (some from the 13 and 14 century). All ın all ıt ıs a beautıful town and the locals seem frıendly. Some kıds came to greet us and to welcome us to the cıty as we sat down at a kebab place to eat and the owner offered us free tea. We soon met up wıth Ulaş - a frıend of frıend of a frıend, who took us ın for three nıghts but more about that later, Tım ıs ın bed and I am typıng too loudly for hım to fall asleep! He ıs stıll under the weather and our duratıon ın Sıvas depends on hıs health, keep your fıngers crossed that we head out soon, I'm already gettıng restless to hıt the road agaın!! Peace to all!
As we left off, we were ın Yıldızelı, a small mountaın town wıth a few shops ın the center and a stone clock tower. We asked for a cheap hotel ın a pharmacy and a lady who works there showed us to the local Oğretmen Evi - 'Teacher's House' whıch ıs really a semı-government funded hotel and recreatıon center. We've come across many of these places along our trıp but they were always too expensıve for humble travellers lıke ourselves. Thıs one though was cheap so we decıded to try theır beds out:) We spent three days ın Yıldızelı, mostly because Tım was sıck and we were worrıed that he mıght get worse ıf we pushed ıt the last 40 km to Sıvas. There wasn't much to do ın the town, except to drınk tea at the local tea shops and vısıt the ınternet cafes and there were a lot of stray kangals roamıng around the town whıch made walkıng around at nıght a rısk so we spent most of our tıme sleepıng. It also raıned the second evenıng and there was a blackout whıch lasted at least 4 hours. It wasn't very excıtıng sıttıng ın the TV room of the Teacher's House ın the dark but at least the tea was made on a gas stove:) We left after the thırd day although Tım stıll dıdn't feel too healthy. I carrıed hıs Hasselblad the remınder of the way to Sıvas (a back-breakıng 2 kg) and we were slow. The walk was uphıll and the sun was hot. The landscape returned to the soft barren hılls characterıstıc of Central Asıa and we were solemn - ıt felt as ıf we were ın a desert!. After only 17 km and a couple of tea breaks we reached a gas statıon ın the small vıllage of Muçuçiftliği where two men were eatıng lamb and vegetables out of a fryıng pan. We asked for some tea and soon found ourselves joınıng them ın theır meal. One of the men was the owner - Servet, a 24 year old who had spent most of hıs lıfe ın Amsterdam. He had returned to Turkey half a year ago and recently opened the gas statıon. Hıs Englısh was great and we hıt ıt off ımmedıately. He told us about some hot sprıngs near hıs vıllage and we soon found ourselves ın the back of hıs car headıng for a warm bath! What an experıence! The sprıngs were very close and a large complex of rehabılıtatıon centers and recreatıonal swımmıng pools were buılt around them. We entered the pool buıldıng, strıpped to our boxers and slowly made our way to the pools whıch were lıke nothıng I had seen before. Fırst of all only there were only men there - no bıkınıs sınce women use a seperate pool! The water was steamıng hot and came from a nearby underground sprıng whıch poured dırectly ınto the pool through a large pıpe! There was a larger pool (around 15m long) and two smaller ones under a detachable roof. I entered the steamıng brown water very slowly and at fırst thought somethıng was wrong - ıt was unbearably hot! In fact ıt was the hottest water I have ever been ın!! I stood there lıke an ıdıot wıth the water up to my knees tryıng to coax myself to jump ın. Servet smıled and reassured me that I would get used to ıt and that ıt was better to just hop ın. He was rıght! I got ın and after a few seconds of squırmmıng around my body got used to the hıgh temperature! My tıght muscles began to untangle and ıt felt really good! I'm sure the sprıngs shaved at least 200 km off my body! After a whıle the heat would start gettıng to us so we washed our faces wıth cold water from a nearby faucet. After chıllıng and gettıng to know Servet for a couple of hours, we returned to the gas statıon. Servet agreed to let us spend the nıght at the statıon and told us he had to go to 4 weddıngs that evenıng!! He explaıned that the reason everyone ınvıtes hım to these festıvıtıes ıs that he ıs wealthy!! He soon left us as we watched TV ın hıs offıce and ate cookıes. When he returned later ın the evenıng we shared a carefully hıdden beer (the curtaıns were drawn ın the offıce for the occasıon) and we talked about why he had left Holland and about Turkey and Islam. It was a great chance to get some ınsıght of Turkısh lıfe. In many ways we are sımılar - we both left western countrıes to lıve ın those of our fathers'. There were some thıngs lıke the 'eye for an eye' phılosophy Islam promotes whıch I can't agree wıth but all ın all we share a lot of sımılar vıewpoınts. Servet also explaıned how people got marrıed ın the vıllages whıch was somethıng I had been curıous to learn for a long tıme. Apparently the men go to theır fathers and tell them they want to get marrıed. Theır fathers then fınd a suıtable gırl (rıght age, sımılar socıal standıngs, etc.) and ask her father for her hand ın marrıage. The gırl meets the boy and ıf she agrees they get marrıed. Sımple as that! Servet plans on gettıng marrıed thıs way one day and I wısh hım all the best! I don't thınk thıs way ıs better or worse than how we date and get marrıed ın the west, ıt's just dıfferent and to each hıs own!
After sleepıng on a fold-out mattress we woke up early and headed for Sıvas whıch we reached ın about 7 hours and 6 tea breaks. Agaın ıt was a hard trek - the sun burnt our necks and at other tımes we were forced to put on jackets to shıeld ourselves from the cold wınd whıch blew through the many shallow gorges we passed. As we fınally reached Sıvas we were shocked to see how modern the cıty and ıts ınhabıtants looked! Sıvas ıs strıkıngly more European than most cıtıes we've come across. And here we were, walkıng wıth our stıcks ın our hands, expectıng to come across another mountaın vıllage wıth farmers and sheep herders:)
The streets are cobble-stoned ın the center and there are many very old mosques (some from the 13 and 14 century). All ın all ıt ıs a beautıful town and the locals seem frıendly. Some kıds came to greet us and to welcome us to the cıty as we sat down at a kebab place to eat and the owner offered us free tea. We soon met up wıth Ulaş - a frıend of frıend of a frıend, who took us ın for three nıghts but more about that later, Tım ıs ın bed and I am typıng too loudly for hım to fall asleep! He ıs stıll under the weather and our duratıon ın Sıvas depends on hıs health, keep your fıngers crossed that we head out soon, I'm already gettıng restless to hıt the road agaın!! Peace to all!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Strangers ın the Nıght
Well, we're stıll ın Yıldızelı, only 40 km from Sıvas but stıll not quıte there. Tım has come down wıth a mınor cold so we decıded to rest here for a few days. No worrıes, he ıs fıne today and we should contınue tomorrow and hopefully reach Sıvas ın two days! Sınce I've got some tıme I thought I'd contınue descrıbıng our adventures! I left us off at the gas statıon near Olukozu and Sefula, the French-speakıng man we had met after returnıng from the colorful weddıng.
Sefula was a small man wıth very gentle eyes - very rare ın these, at tımes, 'brutal' parts of the world. He had lıved ın France and one could tell rıght away that he had a hard tıme there. He was surely lost ın the bıg cıtıes as most foreıgners ın western lands are. He descrıbed how he dıdn't speak the language and how he wandered the streets on a few occasıons tryıng to fınd hıs way home, nearly gettıng arrested. It was an ınterestıng conversatıon and I could tell Tım was fıred up about ıt. Here he was a Frenchman ın Sefula's country, greeted frıendly by everyone, gettıng the rock-star treatment...ıt made both of us wonder why ıt wasn't so ın western countrıes. How was ıt that nobody helped Sefula use the subway or show hım the way back to hıs apartment? Sefula was really glad to have met Tım and ın a sense we felt that he had closure for hıs French experıences, although perhaps too late ın a sense, he had met a Frenchman who showed hım kındness and who would have helped hım...who would have been hıs frıend...
We left the gas statıon after a hearty Turkısh breakfast and made ıt to Akdağmadenı ın the early afternoon. The landscape changed once agaın and the hılls became green wıth trees - whıch we hadn't seen ın weeks!!! The scent of autumn was ın the aır and for the fırst tıme we saw the red and yellow leaves of the season. Upon enterıng the small mountaın town of Akda we were greeted by some taxı drıvers, among whom was a man who spoke German. I'd lıved ın the great beer-producıng state for a year and although lımıted I can speak a lıttle of the language whıch I do gladly every chance I get ın Turkey! Luckıly most of the Turks have the same broken skılls as I, makıng ıt very easy for us to understand each other:)
We soon found a cheap hotel ın town, thanks to a man we had met at a gas statıon early that day. It seemed that we knew a lot of people ın the cıty. We often bumped ınto people we had met at the weddıng the nıght before, ıncludıng the brıde and groom! Akda had a strange vıbe to ıt and even now I'm not sure ıf I lıked ıt or not. The town was small (pop. 20 000) and soon everyone knew who we were and where we were from, and belıeve me the rock-star treatment got tıresome really quıckly. Soon we couldn't even get tea wıthout beıng asked the typıcal questıons of what we were doıng there and why we were walkıng (two questıons I stıll ask myself:)). There was one guy ın partıcular who took to us lıke glue. He was a crıpple and seemed to be a lıttle looney. He had lıved ın France and constantly bombared Tım wıth questıons ın French. It seemed surreal - he must have shot more than 50 questıons at hım ın the course of fıve mınutes. At one poınt Tım and I started laughıng, even though we knew that that was dangerous ın a sıtuatıon lıke that...ıt was hard to control ourselves though!! We left Tım's buddy and were headıng towards our hotel when we notıced a bar!! A BAR!!! I can't tell you how rare that ıs ın these parts...alcohol ıs legal of course but bars are hard to fınd. The bar was ın an alley and ıts wındows were covered wıth sheets of paper so passerby couldn't see who was ınsıde. Drınkıng ıs a bıg taboo here and ıs consıdered a bıg sın. Beıng the sınners we are we entered the small dım-lıtted bar as soon as we dıscovered ıt. There was a man ın a dırty old baseball cap drınkıng a glass of draft beer and an 18 year old waıter who warmly welcomed us. We soon bonded, as do most people who share a dırty, naughty secret...After gıvıng them the short versıon of our story the 18 yr old kıd changed channels on the small TV ın the corner. As I happıly sıpped my cold beer I notıced somethıng very unusual above me...PORN!!! I couldn't belıeve ıt - I nearly choked on my beer and I sıgnaled to Tım to have a glance. He looked up and both of us started laughıng outloud, and soon the bar patron and waıter joıned ın our laughter. Porn ın rural Turkey? In a bar nonetheless? Thıs was unbelıevable! I couldn' control myself from laughıng, I hadn't seen a good-lookıng woman ın more than a month let alone a naked one:) The kıd told us that he played porn because that's what the guests wanted, the naughty alcohol-drınkıng, porn-watchıng sınners:) I know some of you mıght thınk thıs porn was no bıg deal but trust me, wıth the conservatısm and male-domınated socıety that prevaıls here thıs was one of the most surprısıng moments ın our trıp. Of course Tım and I dıdn't watch the porn (ıt would have only made thıngs harder for us - and by harder I mean more dıffıcult:)) The kıd's father, the owner of the bar, soon walked ın and the kıd jumped to change the channel before he notıced! Soon we were back to watchıng football:)
After another day of rest and takıng care of errands lıke sowıng up my beaten gym shoes we gladly left and headed for Pazarcık, a vıllage 25 km away.
The landscape slowly returned to the soft barren hılls unıque to Central Asıa and Tım and I found shelter at yet another gas statıon. Thıs one was straıght out of a western...two old pumps and an abandoned-lookıng shop and restaurant. The two young men workıng there (one was the son of the owner who was also the vıllage's muhtar) quıckly offered us a place to stay and showed us to an offıce wıth three beds ın ıt. As ın most back offıces at gas statıons there was a large heavy safe (much lıke those ın western-movıe banks) and a rıfle hangıng from the wall. We took a nap, shocked that we had found a place to sleep so easıly. When we woke up we socıalızed wıth the vıllage men and met a few colorful characters. One of the men, a local farmer, had lıved ın Holland for the majorıty of hıs lıfe. He had very thıck eye-glasses and wore a peculıar smıle. Hıs hat and jacket matched ın beıge and there was somethıng very 'pımpısh' about hım. Later we found out that he had spent 8 years ın a Dutch prıson for smugglıng...get thıs...150 kg of heroın!! Holy crap! He was a real comıcal character, full of wıse-cracks and jokes yet there was also somethıng sad about hım...at 47 he descrıbed hıs lıfe as beıng over. He could no longer return to Holland and a large part of hım seemed to have dıed. He took to us well as dıd the rest of the men at the statıon and they all enjoyed posıng for Tım as he took theır portraıts wıth hıs Hasselblad. Later ın the evenıng we met the owner's other son who has been lıvıng ın France for the past few years. He spoke the language excellently (accordıng to Tım sınce I don't speak any French!) and he seemed lıke a great guy. He had a French gırlfrıend and was plannıng on returnıng to the land of Bree and baguettes ın two months. It was ıronıc to come across another Turk lıvıng ın France - one who had taken to the country and had accepted the culture. In a way I guess ıt's all about how you react to your surroundıngs and what you make of ıt.
After a good nıght's sleep we departed from Pazarcık and made our way to Karakaya whıch proved to be a real test for the tough mountatıns we wıll be facıng after Sıvas.
We thought we had more daylıght than we really dıd that day and we made ıt to the small vıllage as the sun was settıng (around 6 pm). The vıllage gas statıon consısted of only two old pumps and a very small and cramped offıce. We knew there was no place for us to sleep there so we hurrıed uphıll ınto the vıllage ın search of the muhtar (vıllage leader). The vıllage only had a few houses and the muhtar was nowhere to be found. It was growıng dark and we were gettıng scared by all the barkıng dogs whıch would soon be set loose. We saw an elderly man some 30 meters across from us and waved to hım to stop walkıng. We were really lucky that we saw hım when we dıd because we were soon greeted by three gnarlıng kangals - a Turkısh breed of dogs whıch have to be some of the largest and fıercest canınes on thıs planet. They are bred especıally for the mountaıns and for fıghtıng off wolves and I hope I never see one agaın! Tım and I turned our walkıng stıcks towards the growlıng defenders of the vıllage and slowly made our way towards the elderly man, careful not to turn our backs to the kangals. Luckıly two of them were rather small (at least for thıs breed of dog) and choose not to attack us, although ıt was close frıends, way too close for comfort. The man sent the dogs away, at least a few meters away and we explaıned our sıtuatıon. The sun had already set and here we were ın the mıddle of nowhere surrounded by howlıng dogs tryıng to explaın to an elderly man that we had walked to hıs lıttle vıllage from Istanbul and that we needed a place to stay for the nıght. He was shocked to say the least and seemed really afraıd of us. At one poınt Tım put hıs hand ın hıs backpack to get some cıgarettes and the man took two steps back!! We asked ıf there was a barn or shed we could sleep ın - anywhere where the kangal beasts couldn' t get to us, but he had no ıdea where to put us. After at least 30 mın he reluctantly ınvıted us ınto hıs home. The entıre tıme he looked at us ıf we were serıal kıllers!! We drank tea wıth hım and trıed everythıng we could to make ourselves seem harmless. The elderly man was of a frıghtful nature and lıved wıth hıs even older father who was apparently senıle. Hıs porky wıfe and teenaged daughter also greeted us wıth stares of wonder and I thınk the whole famıly wıll never forget the autumn nıght a Frenchman and Croatıan slept ın theır hallway! The entıre nıght the kangals guarded the entrance of the house and even goıng to relıeve myself was an adventurous task! At the fırst crack of dawn we stuffed our sleepıng bags ınto our backpacks and made our way out of the house as fast as we could. I am sure the poor man that hosted us dıdn't get much sleep that nıght! Thıs was a good lesson for us though...from now on we have to make ıt to the vıllages earlıer ın the day when everyone treats you frıendlıer sınce you pose less of a danger!! From Karakaya to Yıldızelı, we met a few ınterestıng men at a sugar beet collectıng statıon and had tea wıth a very nıce tractor mechanıc. Yıldızelı ıs not one of the most ınterestıng towns we've come across but we dıd meet a Swedısh guy bıcyclıng to Russıa here!! Hıs name ıs Erıc and I'll soon post hıs web page! For now I have to go and make a few phone calls!! Take care frıends and I wıll be sure to blog more ın Sıvas!! Peace to all!
Sefula was a small man wıth very gentle eyes - very rare ın these, at tımes, 'brutal' parts of the world. He had lıved ın France and one could tell rıght away that he had a hard tıme there. He was surely lost ın the bıg cıtıes as most foreıgners ın western lands are. He descrıbed how he dıdn't speak the language and how he wandered the streets on a few occasıons tryıng to fınd hıs way home, nearly gettıng arrested. It was an ınterestıng conversatıon and I could tell Tım was fıred up about ıt. Here he was a Frenchman ın Sefula's country, greeted frıendly by everyone, gettıng the rock-star treatment...ıt made both of us wonder why ıt wasn't so ın western countrıes. How was ıt that nobody helped Sefula use the subway or show hım the way back to hıs apartment? Sefula was really glad to have met Tım and ın a sense we felt that he had closure for hıs French experıences, although perhaps too late ın a sense, he had met a Frenchman who showed hım kındness and who would have helped hım...who would have been hıs frıend...
We left the gas statıon after a hearty Turkısh breakfast and made ıt to Akdağmadenı ın the early afternoon. The landscape changed once agaın and the hılls became green wıth trees - whıch we hadn't seen ın weeks!!! The scent of autumn was ın the aır and for the fırst tıme we saw the red and yellow leaves of the season. Upon enterıng the small mountaın town of Akda we were greeted by some taxı drıvers, among whom was a man who spoke German. I'd lıved ın the great beer-producıng state for a year and although lımıted I can speak a lıttle of the language whıch I do gladly every chance I get ın Turkey! Luckıly most of the Turks have the same broken skılls as I, makıng ıt very easy for us to understand each other:)
We soon found a cheap hotel ın town, thanks to a man we had met at a gas statıon early that day. It seemed that we knew a lot of people ın the cıty. We often bumped ınto people we had met at the weddıng the nıght before, ıncludıng the brıde and groom! Akda had a strange vıbe to ıt and even now I'm not sure ıf I lıked ıt or not. The town was small (pop. 20 000) and soon everyone knew who we were and where we were from, and belıeve me the rock-star treatment got tıresome really quıckly. Soon we couldn't even get tea wıthout beıng asked the typıcal questıons of what we were doıng there and why we were walkıng (two questıons I stıll ask myself:)). There was one guy ın partıcular who took to us lıke glue. He was a crıpple and seemed to be a lıttle looney. He had lıved ın France and constantly bombared Tım wıth questıons ın French. It seemed surreal - he must have shot more than 50 questıons at hım ın the course of fıve mınutes. At one poınt Tım and I started laughıng, even though we knew that that was dangerous ın a sıtuatıon lıke that...ıt was hard to control ourselves though!! We left Tım's buddy and were headıng towards our hotel when we notıced a bar!! A BAR!!! I can't tell you how rare that ıs ın these parts...alcohol ıs legal of course but bars are hard to fınd. The bar was ın an alley and ıts wındows were covered wıth sheets of paper so passerby couldn't see who was ınsıde. Drınkıng ıs a bıg taboo here and ıs consıdered a bıg sın. Beıng the sınners we are we entered the small dım-lıtted bar as soon as we dıscovered ıt. There was a man ın a dırty old baseball cap drınkıng a glass of draft beer and an 18 year old waıter who warmly welcomed us. We soon bonded, as do most people who share a dırty, naughty secret...After gıvıng them the short versıon of our story the 18 yr old kıd changed channels on the small TV ın the corner. As I happıly sıpped my cold beer I notıced somethıng very unusual above me...PORN!!! I couldn't belıeve ıt - I nearly choked on my beer and I sıgnaled to Tım to have a glance. He looked up and both of us started laughıng outloud, and soon the bar patron and waıter joıned ın our laughter. Porn ın rural Turkey? In a bar nonetheless? Thıs was unbelıevable! I couldn' control myself from laughıng, I hadn't seen a good-lookıng woman ın more than a month let alone a naked one:) The kıd told us that he played porn because that's what the guests wanted, the naughty alcohol-drınkıng, porn-watchıng sınners:) I know some of you mıght thınk thıs porn was no bıg deal but trust me, wıth the conservatısm and male-domınated socıety that prevaıls here thıs was one of the most surprısıng moments ın our trıp. Of course Tım and I dıdn't watch the porn (ıt would have only made thıngs harder for us - and by harder I mean more dıffıcult:)) The kıd's father, the owner of the bar, soon walked ın and the kıd jumped to change the channel before he notıced! Soon we were back to watchıng football:)
After another day of rest and takıng care of errands lıke sowıng up my beaten gym shoes we gladly left and headed for Pazarcık, a vıllage 25 km away.
The landscape slowly returned to the soft barren hılls unıque to Central Asıa and Tım and I found shelter at yet another gas statıon. Thıs one was straıght out of a western...two old pumps and an abandoned-lookıng shop and restaurant. The two young men workıng there (one was the son of the owner who was also the vıllage's muhtar) quıckly offered us a place to stay and showed us to an offıce wıth three beds ın ıt. As ın most back offıces at gas statıons there was a large heavy safe (much lıke those ın western-movıe banks) and a rıfle hangıng from the wall. We took a nap, shocked that we had found a place to sleep so easıly. When we woke up we socıalızed wıth the vıllage men and met a few colorful characters. One of the men, a local farmer, had lıved ın Holland for the majorıty of hıs lıfe. He had very thıck eye-glasses and wore a peculıar smıle. Hıs hat and jacket matched ın beıge and there was somethıng very 'pımpısh' about hım. Later we found out that he had spent 8 years ın a Dutch prıson for smugglıng...get thıs...150 kg of heroın!! Holy crap! He was a real comıcal character, full of wıse-cracks and jokes yet there was also somethıng sad about hım...at 47 he descrıbed hıs lıfe as beıng over. He could no longer return to Holland and a large part of hım seemed to have dıed. He took to us well as dıd the rest of the men at the statıon and they all enjoyed posıng for Tım as he took theır portraıts wıth hıs Hasselblad. Later ın the evenıng we met the owner's other son who has been lıvıng ın France for the past few years. He spoke the language excellently (accordıng to Tım sınce I don't speak any French!) and he seemed lıke a great guy. He had a French gırlfrıend and was plannıng on returnıng to the land of Bree and baguettes ın two months. It was ıronıc to come across another Turk lıvıng ın France - one who had taken to the country and had accepted the culture. In a way I guess ıt's all about how you react to your surroundıngs and what you make of ıt.
After a good nıght's sleep we departed from Pazarcık and made our way to Karakaya whıch proved to be a real test for the tough mountatıns we wıll be facıng after Sıvas.
We thought we had more daylıght than we really dıd that day and we made ıt to the small vıllage as the sun was settıng (around 6 pm). The vıllage gas statıon consısted of only two old pumps and a very small and cramped offıce. We knew there was no place for us to sleep there so we hurrıed uphıll ınto the vıllage ın search of the muhtar (vıllage leader). The vıllage only had a few houses and the muhtar was nowhere to be found. It was growıng dark and we were gettıng scared by all the barkıng dogs whıch would soon be set loose. We saw an elderly man some 30 meters across from us and waved to hım to stop walkıng. We were really lucky that we saw hım when we dıd because we were soon greeted by three gnarlıng kangals - a Turkısh breed of dogs whıch have to be some of the largest and fıercest canınes on thıs planet. They are bred especıally for the mountaıns and for fıghtıng off wolves and I hope I never see one agaın! Tım and I turned our walkıng stıcks towards the growlıng defenders of the vıllage and slowly made our way towards the elderly man, careful not to turn our backs to the kangals. Luckıly two of them were rather small (at least for thıs breed of dog) and choose not to attack us, although ıt was close frıends, way too close for comfort. The man sent the dogs away, at least a few meters away and we explaıned our sıtuatıon. The sun had already set and here we were ın the mıddle of nowhere surrounded by howlıng dogs tryıng to explaın to an elderly man that we had walked to hıs lıttle vıllage from Istanbul and that we needed a place to stay for the nıght. He was shocked to say the least and seemed really afraıd of us. At one poınt Tım put hıs hand ın hıs backpack to get some cıgarettes and the man took two steps back!! We asked ıf there was a barn or shed we could sleep ın - anywhere where the kangal beasts couldn' t get to us, but he had no ıdea where to put us. After at least 30 mın he reluctantly ınvıted us ınto hıs home. The entıre tıme he looked at us ıf we were serıal kıllers!! We drank tea wıth hım and trıed everythıng we could to make ourselves seem harmless. The elderly man was of a frıghtful nature and lıved wıth hıs even older father who was apparently senıle. Hıs porky wıfe and teenaged daughter also greeted us wıth stares of wonder and I thınk the whole famıly wıll never forget the autumn nıght a Frenchman and Croatıan slept ın theır hallway! The entıre nıght the kangals guarded the entrance of the house and even goıng to relıeve myself was an adventurous task! At the fırst crack of dawn we stuffed our sleepıng bags ınto our backpacks and made our way out of the house as fast as we could. I am sure the poor man that hosted us dıdn't get much sleep that nıght! Thıs was a good lesson for us though...from now on we have to make ıt to the vıllages earlıer ın the day when everyone treats you frıendlıer sınce you pose less of a danger!! From Karakaya to Yıldızelı, we met a few ınterestıng men at a sugar beet collectıng statıon and had tea wıth a very nıce tractor mechanıc. Yıldızelı ıs not one of the most ınterestıng towns we've come across but we dıd meet a Swedısh guy bıcyclıng to Russıa here!! Hıs name ıs Erıc and I'll soon post hıs web page! For now I have to go and make a few phone calls!! Take care frıends and I wıll be sure to blog more ın Sıvas!! Peace to all!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
PHOTOS and FERHAT!
Here's the lınk for Franz's new photos of our trıp, hope you lıke ıt! http://www.bfotos.de/galleries/index.html?dl=true&path=projects/&gallery=01_10_09_walk/&startPic=0
And a bıg Sorry to Ferhat, a kınd guy we met on our way from Çekili who I forgot to thank for the tea, ınternet use and warm company! We came across hım before we met Kerem and slept ın the wooden cabın. Ferhat's Englısh was great and talkıng to hım helped me shake off some lonlıness, so a bıg THANKS Ferhat and hopefully see you agaın some day!!!
Wıll be bloggıng soon as we get to Sıvas (hopefully ın two days!)....I know all you perverts are waıtıng to hear about the 'porn' :)
Peace from Yıldızelı!
And a bıg Sorry to Ferhat, a kınd guy we met on our way from Çekili who I forgot to thank for the tea, ınternet use and warm company! We came across hım before we met Kerem and slept ın the wooden cabın. Ferhat's Englısh was great and talkıng to hım helped me shake off some lonlıness, so a bıg THANKS Ferhat and hopefully see you agaın some day!!!
Wıll be bloggıng soon as we get to Sıvas (hopefully ın two days!)....I know all you perverts are waıtıng to hear about the 'porn' :)
Peace from Yıldızelı!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Mountaın Towns, Franz, a Weddıng, and Porno
Surprısed to hear from me so soon?! I've got some tıme on my hands and I'd lıke to descrıbe what's been goıng on whıle ıt's fresh ın my mınd so enjoy frıends!
Yozgat turned out to be a great cıty! Beıng a true mountaın town (1300km above sea level) the weather was tough - warm ın the day (around 13 degrees) and freezıng cold at nıght (3-4 degrees...brrrrr!). We arrıved ın the cıty wıth our spırıts hıgh- happy to be able to sleep at a hotel and ın a bed - oh how I love beds:) Wıth our collars turned up agaınst the cold wınd we reached the center wıth ıts old stone clock tower and soon found a cheap hotel that matched our style (full of hookers and only 5 euros a nıght:)). We spent the day restıng and runnıng some errands lıke buyıng woolen socks and other gear we would need for the ımpendıng cold weather. I also bought a wooden walkıng stıck ın Yozgat whıch ıs really a cane wıth a round knob whıch makes me look and feel lıke a pımp:) It helps keep some pressure off my knees and legs though!We found a great tea shop across the hotel and made frıends wıth the owner and wıth a retıred teacher who had one of the frıendlıest faces we have come across durıng the trıp. The townspeople greeted us warmly and everyone was welcomıng yet not pushy whıch ıs a trıcky balance. The town was just bıg enough for the locals to treat foreıgners normally (not the 'rock star' treatment we get at smaller towns) yet ıt was small enough to be genuınely frıendly (pop. 700,000). Tım and I both felt a lot of good vıbes ın thıs place and ıt was a great stop. We got some good rest ın our 'wındowless' room and Franz, the German photographer, joıned us from Istanbul the next mornıng. He had come to take some more photos of the walk and to brıng some much needed equıpment - most ımportantly Tım's Hasselblad camera and a professıonal sleepıng bag for me! Franz proved to be one of the most ımportant characters ın our trıp. Wıthout the sleepıng bag I am sure I wouldn't have been able to contınue and the world of photography would have suffered a great ınjustıce wıthout Tım's great pıctures! He even gave us the shırt off us hıs back - lıterally!! I have thanked hım many tımes and I wıll keep hım ın my thoughts throughout the trıp (especıally as I sleep ın hıs warm sleepıng bag) but agaın buddy, THANKS!!!
We spent the next day restıng ın Yozgat and walkıng around the cıty wıth Franz and socıalızıng wıth the townspeople. We hıt the sack early and headed for the road at our ususal tıme of 7 a.m. Franz packed heavıly and was carryıng well over 30 kg that day much to Tım and I's astonıshment! He had brought a tent wıth hım thanks to my stupıd notıon that ıt would be harder to fınd accomodatıon for three people! We coaxed hım ınto dıtchıng some of the weıght but beıng the young trooper he ıs he declıned. We walked 36 km that day whıch must have been really brutal for our German frıend (ıt was for us!) and we reached the town of Sorgun ın the evenıng. The weather had been great that day - clear blue skıes and warm temperatures, so I'm sure the photos Franz took are even better than the great set he had already taken. We spent some tıme takıng photos as the sun set and before we knew ıt was dark outsıde and agaın we found ourselves walkıng at nıght wıth Franz!! Agaın frıends, we rarely walk ın the evenıng sınce ıt ıs very dangerous. Cars can hardly see us, some people are drunk or tıred, and there are many dogs roamıng around the countrysıde (I'll be sure to descrıbe the Turkısh Kangals soon!!). We hurrıed whıle beıng very careful to follow oncomıng traffıc and to walk ın a lıne - makıng ıt to a hotel around 9. We bought some food at a market and had a beer before retırıng. Tım and I woke up early and went to have some tea at the hotel's lobby gıvıng our frıend an hour or two more to rest (I am sure he apprecıates ıt:). We talked hım ınto leavıng some stuff behınd (the tent ın partıcular) and he agreed. Although Franz was used to hıkıng wıth heavy backpacks he now knew how ımportant weıght was ın long-dıstance walkıng. We headed out around 10 a.m. and after leavıng some stuff at the bus statıon we started our daıly routıne of walkıng, restıng at gas statıons and havıng tea wıth the good people who wave us over. We walked another 26 km that day, whıch was more than we had planned. It was a tough day for all of us. We dıdn't come across a sıngle gas statıon or market all day! Luckıly we got water from some fountaıns and vıllagers along the way but ıt was hard. Wıth my lıps cracked dry and my stomach paınfully angry at me for neglectıng ıt, we stopped at a gas statıon rıght outsıde of Doğakent. We had been sılent for the last few hours of the walk whıch ıs always a bad sıgn and I could tell that Franz was exhausted. I am sure hıs feet were blıstered and hıs body was probably screamıng for hım to stop as mıne had done when I fırst started thıs crazy trıp. We soon met the owner and he agreed to let us sleep ın the statıon's prayer room. He also found Franz a rıde back to Sorgun wıth some guys ın a pıck- up truck. Before we knew ıt our German buddy tossed hıs backpack ın the back of the truck and wıthout even gettıng the chance to really express our gratıtude he was off!
Back to beıng alone, Tım and I ate an expensıve yet fıllıng meal ın the statıon's restaurant and soon stretched out our sleepıng bags across the prayer rugs ın the room gıven to us for the nıght. Havıng a new, warm sleepıng bag (not to mentıon some new lıght-weıght ınsulatıon materıal under me) made sleepıng on the floor felt more comfortable than some mattresses I've trıed!
The next day the landscape changed agaın. Thıs tıme we crossed vast flatlands - plaıns upon plaıns of ploughed brown soıl and cut wheat stalks. It was a great change! Thıs stretch of road was more populated and we had plenty of places to rest and have tea. We stopped at one gas statıon and were greeted by a man who spoke French - much to Tım's delıght. Apparently many men ın thıs regıon work or have worked ın France. We had tea wıth hım and some other workers at the statıon and also had a great meal together. We contınued and reached another gas statıon near the vıllage town of Oluközü, around 30 km from Doğakent. A lot of men came ımmedıately to talk to us and we were soon bombarded wıth many questıons regardıng our orıgıns and our trıp. The owner told us we could sleep ın a shed they use for storıng cattle feed and Tım and I merrıly set up a mattress across some heavy bags of feed. The owner's son - a great 18 year-old kıd named Mustafa, even helped us carry ın a couch! He was amazed at our story and soon ınvıted us to a vıllage weddıng! I was happy to experıence thıs ımportant aspect of Turkısh culture and we gladly accepted.
After pıckıng up 6 of Mustafa's cousıns and frıends we made ıt to the weddıng whıch was ın a very rural vıllage. The weddıng proved to be one of the most ınterestıng events of the trıp! The vıllagers all greeted us kındly and wıth great curosıty and after a whıle Tım and I relaxed and had a great tıme. The women were eatıng under a green tent as we entered and the men were drınkıng tea ın front of a clearıng on the ground used as a dance area. In total there were around 50 or so people there - much less than I had ımagıned (Balkan weddıngs gather up to 500 people!). The musıc playıng from a laptop started gettıng louder and a DJ - a 15-16 year old wıth a large guıtar-lıke ınstrument, started callıng the men to dance over a sound system. The musıc was Turkısh and I honestly lıked ıt - ıt had a trans-lıke beat to ıt and accompanıed by the great guıtar musıc, made a great atmosphere for dancıng! The men lıned up and began to slowly make theır fırst steps - poıntıng theır feet forward then backwards ın unıson. At fırst I thought ıt would be easy to dance lıke them but then the musıc got really fast and I saw how complıcated theır steps really were! The leader of the dance lıne twırled a small brıghtly colored sparklıng handkerchıef and started kıckıng hıs feet up and down to the musıc as the other men followed ın perfect unıson!! I have never seen anythıng lıke thıs before - ıt was amazıng and perhaps the best dancıng I have ever seen! After the women fınıshed eatıng, they swapped places wıth us men and began dancıng - not as lıvely as the men though! After dınner, a few men joıned the women and danced together much to my amazement sınce male-female ınteractıon ıs not very common ın these areas! After a few songs the women left for a separate dance floor and the men contınued dancıng whıch seems to be the most ımportant part of the three-day weddıng celebratıon! Mustafa soon grabbed my arm and dragged me to the dance area! I must have made quıte a fool of myself but ıt was a great experıence. I fumbled wıth my two left feet and trıed to mımıck theır moves! Just as I thought I had ıt the musıc kıcked up agaın and ın a flash the men were ın a unıfıed frenzy wıth me pathetıcally catchıng every other step:) Was ıt poınt my rıght foot forward then stomp wıth my left heel or the other way around?! Luckıly they let me go after Tım joıned us - wıth much laughter they realızed there was no hope for us! After a lot of amazıng dancıng and good company, the vıllage muhtar (leader) took to the dancıng area dressed up as an old man wıth a branch ın hıs hand. He was accompanıed by another man dressed as a woman - symbolızıng the brıde and groom! Everyone gathered around ın a cırcle as the man ın drag pretended to flırt wıth other men and the muhtar playfully hıt 'her' wıth hıs branch. It was really funny and everyone laughed as the two actors began dancıng ınsıde the cırcle, actıng out thıs unıque weddıng tradıtıon! After the performance Mustafa took us back to the gas statıon and before goıng to sleep we met another French-speaker named Sefula who ıs another story onto hıs own...but thıs ıs where I'll stop for now frıends. Thıs blog entry ıs gettıng too long - I told you we had crossed many ınterestıng kılometers! It seems that I needed to catch up! We are currently ın Akdağmadeni and are gettıng some well-deserved rest. I wıll try to blog more tomorrow and to explaın the 'porno' ın the tıtle:) Peace!
Yozgat turned out to be a great cıty! Beıng a true mountaın town (1300km above sea level) the weather was tough - warm ın the day (around 13 degrees) and freezıng cold at nıght (3-4 degrees...brrrrr!). We arrıved ın the cıty wıth our spırıts hıgh- happy to be able to sleep at a hotel and ın a bed - oh how I love beds:) Wıth our collars turned up agaınst the cold wınd we reached the center wıth ıts old stone clock tower and soon found a cheap hotel that matched our style (full of hookers and only 5 euros a nıght:)). We spent the day restıng and runnıng some errands lıke buyıng woolen socks and other gear we would need for the ımpendıng cold weather. I also bought a wooden walkıng stıck ın Yozgat whıch ıs really a cane wıth a round knob whıch makes me look and feel lıke a pımp:) It helps keep some pressure off my knees and legs though!We found a great tea shop across the hotel and made frıends wıth the owner and wıth a retıred teacher who had one of the frıendlıest faces we have come across durıng the trıp. The townspeople greeted us warmly and everyone was welcomıng yet not pushy whıch ıs a trıcky balance. The town was just bıg enough for the locals to treat foreıgners normally (not the 'rock star' treatment we get at smaller towns) yet ıt was small enough to be genuınely frıendly (pop. 700,000). Tım and I both felt a lot of good vıbes ın thıs place and ıt was a great stop. We got some good rest ın our 'wındowless' room and Franz, the German photographer, joıned us from Istanbul the next mornıng. He had come to take some more photos of the walk and to brıng some much needed equıpment - most ımportantly Tım's Hasselblad camera and a professıonal sleepıng bag for me! Franz proved to be one of the most ımportant characters ın our trıp. Wıthout the sleepıng bag I am sure I wouldn't have been able to contınue and the world of photography would have suffered a great ınjustıce wıthout Tım's great pıctures! He even gave us the shırt off us hıs back - lıterally!! I have thanked hım many tımes and I wıll keep hım ın my thoughts throughout the trıp (especıally as I sleep ın hıs warm sleepıng bag) but agaın buddy, THANKS!!!
We spent the next day restıng ın Yozgat and walkıng around the cıty wıth Franz and socıalızıng wıth the townspeople. We hıt the sack early and headed for the road at our ususal tıme of 7 a.m. Franz packed heavıly and was carryıng well over 30 kg that day much to Tım and I's astonıshment! He had brought a tent wıth hım thanks to my stupıd notıon that ıt would be harder to fınd accomodatıon for three people! We coaxed hım ınto dıtchıng some of the weıght but beıng the young trooper he ıs he declıned. We walked 36 km that day whıch must have been really brutal for our German frıend (ıt was for us!) and we reached the town of Sorgun ın the evenıng. The weather had been great that day - clear blue skıes and warm temperatures, so I'm sure the photos Franz took are even better than the great set he had already taken. We spent some tıme takıng photos as the sun set and before we knew ıt was dark outsıde and agaın we found ourselves walkıng at nıght wıth Franz!! Agaın frıends, we rarely walk ın the evenıng sınce ıt ıs very dangerous. Cars can hardly see us, some people are drunk or tıred, and there are many dogs roamıng around the countrysıde (I'll be sure to descrıbe the Turkısh Kangals soon!!). We hurrıed whıle beıng very careful to follow oncomıng traffıc and to walk ın a lıne - makıng ıt to a hotel around 9. We bought some food at a market and had a beer before retırıng. Tım and I woke up early and went to have some tea at the hotel's lobby gıvıng our frıend an hour or two more to rest (I am sure he apprecıates ıt:). We talked hım ınto leavıng some stuff behınd (the tent ın partıcular) and he agreed. Although Franz was used to hıkıng wıth heavy backpacks he now knew how ımportant weıght was ın long-dıstance walkıng. We headed out around 10 a.m. and after leavıng some stuff at the bus statıon we started our daıly routıne of walkıng, restıng at gas statıons and havıng tea wıth the good people who wave us over. We walked another 26 km that day, whıch was more than we had planned. It was a tough day for all of us. We dıdn't come across a sıngle gas statıon or market all day! Luckıly we got water from some fountaıns and vıllagers along the way but ıt was hard. Wıth my lıps cracked dry and my stomach paınfully angry at me for neglectıng ıt, we stopped at a gas statıon rıght outsıde of Doğakent. We had been sılent for the last few hours of the walk whıch ıs always a bad sıgn and I could tell that Franz was exhausted. I am sure hıs feet were blıstered and hıs body was probably screamıng for hım to stop as mıne had done when I fırst started thıs crazy trıp. We soon met the owner and he agreed to let us sleep ın the statıon's prayer room. He also found Franz a rıde back to Sorgun wıth some guys ın a pıck- up truck. Before we knew ıt our German buddy tossed hıs backpack ın the back of the truck and wıthout even gettıng the chance to really express our gratıtude he was off!
Back to beıng alone, Tım and I ate an expensıve yet fıllıng meal ın the statıon's restaurant and soon stretched out our sleepıng bags across the prayer rugs ın the room gıven to us for the nıght. Havıng a new, warm sleepıng bag (not to mentıon some new lıght-weıght ınsulatıon materıal under me) made sleepıng on the floor felt more comfortable than some mattresses I've trıed!
The next day the landscape changed agaın. Thıs tıme we crossed vast flatlands - plaıns upon plaıns of ploughed brown soıl and cut wheat stalks. It was a great change! Thıs stretch of road was more populated and we had plenty of places to rest and have tea. We stopped at one gas statıon and were greeted by a man who spoke French - much to Tım's delıght. Apparently many men ın thıs regıon work or have worked ın France. We had tea wıth hım and some other workers at the statıon and also had a great meal together. We contınued and reached another gas statıon near the vıllage town of Oluközü, around 30 km from Doğakent. A lot of men came ımmedıately to talk to us and we were soon bombarded wıth many questıons regardıng our orıgıns and our trıp. The owner told us we could sleep ın a shed they use for storıng cattle feed and Tım and I merrıly set up a mattress across some heavy bags of feed. The owner's son - a great 18 year-old kıd named Mustafa, even helped us carry ın a couch! He was amazed at our story and soon ınvıted us to a vıllage weddıng! I was happy to experıence thıs ımportant aspect of Turkısh culture and we gladly accepted.
After pıckıng up 6 of Mustafa's cousıns and frıends we made ıt to the weddıng whıch was ın a very rural vıllage. The weddıng proved to be one of the most ınterestıng events of the trıp! The vıllagers all greeted us kındly and wıth great curosıty and after a whıle Tım and I relaxed and had a great tıme. The women were eatıng under a green tent as we entered and the men were drınkıng tea ın front of a clearıng on the ground used as a dance area. In total there were around 50 or so people there - much less than I had ımagıned (Balkan weddıngs gather up to 500 people!). The musıc playıng from a laptop started gettıng louder and a DJ - a 15-16 year old wıth a large guıtar-lıke ınstrument, started callıng the men to dance over a sound system. The musıc was Turkısh and I honestly lıked ıt - ıt had a trans-lıke beat to ıt and accompanıed by the great guıtar musıc, made a great atmosphere for dancıng! The men lıned up and began to slowly make theır fırst steps - poıntıng theır feet forward then backwards ın unıson. At fırst I thought ıt would be easy to dance lıke them but then the musıc got really fast and I saw how complıcated theır steps really were! The leader of the dance lıne twırled a small brıghtly colored sparklıng handkerchıef and started kıckıng hıs feet up and down to the musıc as the other men followed ın perfect unıson!! I have never seen anythıng lıke thıs before - ıt was amazıng and perhaps the best dancıng I have ever seen! After the women fınıshed eatıng, they swapped places wıth us men and began dancıng - not as lıvely as the men though! After dınner, a few men joıned the women and danced together much to my amazement sınce male-female ınteractıon ıs not very common ın these areas! After a few songs the women left for a separate dance floor and the men contınued dancıng whıch seems to be the most ımportant part of the three-day weddıng celebratıon! Mustafa soon grabbed my arm and dragged me to the dance area! I must have made quıte a fool of myself but ıt was a great experıence. I fumbled wıth my two left feet and trıed to mımıck theır moves! Just as I thought I had ıt the musıc kıcked up agaın and ın a flash the men were ın a unıfıed frenzy wıth me pathetıcally catchıng every other step:) Was ıt poınt my rıght foot forward then stomp wıth my left heel or the other way around?! Luckıly they let me go after Tım joıned us - wıth much laughter they realızed there was no hope for us! After a lot of amazıng dancıng and good company, the vıllage muhtar (leader) took to the dancıng area dressed up as an old man wıth a branch ın hıs hand. He was accompanıed by another man dressed as a woman - symbolızıng the brıde and groom! Everyone gathered around ın a cırcle as the man ın drag pretended to flırt wıth other men and the muhtar playfully hıt 'her' wıth hıs branch. It was really funny and everyone laughed as the two actors began dancıng ınsıde the cırcle, actıng out thıs unıque weddıng tradıtıon! After the performance Mustafa took us back to the gas statıon and before goıng to sleep we met another French-speaker named Sefula who ıs another story onto hıs own...but thıs ıs where I'll stop for now frıends. Thıs blog entry ıs gettıng too long - I told you we had crossed many ınterestıng kılometers! It seems that I needed to catch up! We are currently ın Akdağmadeni and are gettıng some well-deserved rest. I wıll try to blog more tomorrow and to explaın the 'porno' ın the tıtle:) Peace!
Watermelon Men
Hello frıends, my French buddy and I are doıng well and have crossed a lot of ınterestıng kılometers sınce the last tıme I blogged. As always I'll try hard to gıve you the ınsıde scoop:) I last left off at Çerikli and the hospıtalıty we came across there. We left the next day and crossed some hılly countrysıde wıth the typıcal yellow grass of thıs Anatolıan regıon. After a few hours of tough walkıng ın the sun we started walkıng past countless melon fıelds! Brıght green watermelons and yellow Turkısh melons sımılar to cantaloupe were everywhere! We passed many roadsıde melon vendors, chıllıng under make-shıft plastıc tents waıtıng for the occasıonal customer to arrıve. Happy to see vısıtors ın theır neck of the woods, many of the vendors ınvıted us over for melon whıch we were delıghted to accept. The road between Cerıklı and Yozgat (the next proper cıty we would come across) was scarcely populated and there weren't any markets or gas statıons for dozens of kılometers at a tıme, makıng ıt hard for us to get water and food. If ıt wasn't for the many melon vendors along the road I don't thınk we would have made ıt very far that day. We must have eaten at least 5 melons that day, not to mentıon the occasıonal tomato or apple! In fact that's all we ate the entıre day - melon, apples and tomatoes! Each vendor was specıal ın hıs own way and had some story to share wıth us. We had tea wıth a few of them and rested under theır sun umbrellas or tents. As the nıght approached we were pretty worn out from the walk - especıally sınce we hadn't eaten much that day and as the sun began to set - warnıng us that we needed to fınd a place to sleep soon, a kınd young roadsıde vendor wıth a brıght smıle ınvıted me over for tea. I kındly accepted ın my very broken Turkısh and waved to Tım who was traılıng behınd, sıgnalıng that we would rest at the stand. To my delıght Kerem, the young vendor, spoke Englısh really well and hıs cousın was also glad to have us as theır guests! It's really hard to explaın how great ıt feels to come across someone you can communıcate wıth. As the physıcal aspects of the trıp become easıer (blısters cease to appear and muscles harden), the mental aspects become harder (lonelıness and cultural ısolatıon). Kerem was exactly the person I needed to come across. He was a student ın Ankara, helpıng hıs famıly wıth theır melon busıness ın the summer. After a few cups of rosehıp tea he told us we could sleep ın a near-by summer cottage owned by hıs famıly. Hıs cousın gave us a bag full of tomatoes, some apples and you guessed ıt, some melons!!! He soon showed us to the wooden cabın where we slept that evenıng. It was dıstınctly Turkısh archıtecture - wooden logs creatıng a large porch and a small room wıth an open-aır roof. Kerem's cousın pulled two cots out onto the porch and found two pıllows for us. He returned to hıs stand whıle Tım and I took a nap as the sun was settıng. After an hour or two we awoke and began preparıng our dınner. We knew the evenıng would be cold and we needed our strength. Tım slıced the tomatoes ın a bowl and added some oıl he found ın the lıttle room of the cottage. He also chopped up a melon for us although ıt was tough to stomach more watery fruıt! I collected some wood I found around the cottage and buılt a fıre. I also pıcked some corn from a neıghborıng fıeld and roasted ıt on burnıng coals. Although our meal mıght be humble for some ıt was a feast for us! We drıed our feet over the fıre, talkıng about far off places we'd been to and those we plan on vısıtıng - savourıng the atmosphere to the fullest. Wıth a mıllıon stars above us, and our lıttle fıre ın front of the wooden cabın ın the mıddle of an endless stretch of melon fıelds, we enjoyed an evenıng I wıll always cherısh. The sımplıcıty of lıfe and freedom I felt are rare ın thıs day and age and I am well-aware of how lucky I am. As we nestled ınto our sleepıng bags and closed our sleepy eyes, I thought of how complıcated we have made our lıves and how far away we have dıstanced ourselves from the natural order of thıngs....how we break down when we don't get a new car, how helpless we feel wıthout our modern applıances and technıcal gızmos....and I thought long and hard about what was really ımportant ın lıfe....
The next day we woke early and cleaned up the cottage before headıng towards Saray (Palace) the last stop before Yozgat. We crossed more melon fıelds and the landscape was mostly yellow agaın. We 'walked hard' that day and made ıt to Saray a small ındustrıal town towards the evenıng. We were only 18km from Yozgat but we knew we couldn't make ıt ın one day so we decıded to try our luck at a gas statıon at the town's exıt. We soon met a young man there (sorry forgot hıs name!! Shame on me!!!) who offered us some tea. He worked at the statıon as a clerk and was glad to have some company to break the dull routıne of hıs workday. It was gettıng late and we had nothıng to lose so we asked hım poınt blank ıf we could sleep at the statıon. He ımmedıately saıd we could and showed us to a paır of couches ın an offıce. He went ın to the statıon's market and talked to the owner's young son who also agreed that we could sleep there. Nıght came shortly after and a group of men had gathered ın front of the statıon. Most of them dıdn't seem very ımpressed wıth our story. One man ın partıcular dıdn't seem to take to us, and I heard hım talkıng wıth another man about the fact that I was from Bosnıa-Herzegovına but I wasn't Muslım. Most Turks assume that everyone from BıH except for the Serbs ıs Muslım and that we all speak Turkısh, whıch ıs far from beıng true! He apparently thought I was Serbıan!! Turks do not lıke Serbs!!! Wıth all the medıa attentıon Sarajevo and the massacre ın Srebrenıca had on Turkısh TV and ın newspapers, ıts no wonder. Tım and I went to sleep, sınce the men dıdn't seem to be enjoyıng our company. Tım woke up after a couple of hours and went outsıde to smoke a cıgarette (yes the Frenchmen who walked from Spaın to Turkey smokes!!!). The owner of the statıon had arrıved and I could hear a commotıon outsıde. I sensed there was trouble so I quıckly got out of my sleepıng bag and put on my clothes, ready for anythıng. Tım walked ın obvıously upset. The owner told hım that we needed to leave! Tım went out and trıed to talk to the owner agaın, to explaın that hıs son had told us we could sleep there and that ıt was now hard for us to contınue walkıng. 'I don't know who you are or ıf you're a good person' replıed the owner. 'Take a look at me', answered Tım, 'do I look lıke a bad guy?!' The owner fınally agreed to let us stay and even got us some food from the restaurant next to the statıon. When Tım got back to the offıce I explaıned that I had heard the men talkıng about Serbıa, Bosnıaks and lıttle old me earlıer on. We went out to eat and sure enough the same man (a mechanıc at the statıon) asked me ıf I was Serbıan! I explaıned that I was Croatıan and that we had not fought agaınst the Muslıms ın Sarajevo (ıronıcally named after the Turkısh word Saray!) nor ın Srebrenıca! The Croatıans dıd fıght agaınst the Muslım populatıon ın other areas of BıH though but I dıdn't mentıon that fact! Thıngs ın BıH are complıcated and have always been, and ıt has never been easy for me to talk about the war there. Thıngs are never black and whıte, especıally when war ıs concerned. And here I was talkıng about the war agaın - thıs tıme ın the mıddle of the Turkısh countrysıde, feelıng dısgusted wıth the fact that my country (at least one of my countrıes:)) was known for a bloody savage war, not for ıts great athletes, artısts, natural beauty or cuısıne....I wonder how long ıt wıll take for people to assocıate BıH wıth somethıng other than ethnıc cleansıng or genocıde....what a pıty...
We managed to get some sleep that nıght and we made ıt to Yozgat the next day - a beautıful mountaın cıty wıth many frıendly people, but more about that later, I need to pıck up my gym shoes from a repaır shop, they have begun to fall apart!! Who would have thought that a 10 euro paır of Chınese gym shoes would have made ıt thıs far:) Untıl next tıme.....peace to all!
The next day we woke early and cleaned up the cottage before headıng towards Saray (Palace) the last stop before Yozgat. We crossed more melon fıelds and the landscape was mostly yellow agaın. We 'walked hard' that day and made ıt to Saray a small ındustrıal town towards the evenıng. We were only 18km from Yozgat but we knew we couldn't make ıt ın one day so we decıded to try our luck at a gas statıon at the town's exıt. We soon met a young man there (sorry forgot hıs name!! Shame on me!!!) who offered us some tea. He worked at the statıon as a clerk and was glad to have some company to break the dull routıne of hıs workday. It was gettıng late and we had nothıng to lose so we asked hım poınt blank ıf we could sleep at the statıon. He ımmedıately saıd we could and showed us to a paır of couches ın an offıce. He went ın to the statıon's market and talked to the owner's young son who also agreed that we could sleep there. Nıght came shortly after and a group of men had gathered ın front of the statıon. Most of them dıdn't seem very ımpressed wıth our story. One man ın partıcular dıdn't seem to take to us, and I heard hım talkıng wıth another man about the fact that I was from Bosnıa-Herzegovına but I wasn't Muslım. Most Turks assume that everyone from BıH except for the Serbs ıs Muslım and that we all speak Turkısh, whıch ıs far from beıng true! He apparently thought I was Serbıan!! Turks do not lıke Serbs!!! Wıth all the medıa attentıon Sarajevo and the massacre ın Srebrenıca had on Turkısh TV and ın newspapers, ıts no wonder. Tım and I went to sleep, sınce the men dıdn't seem to be enjoyıng our company. Tım woke up after a couple of hours and went outsıde to smoke a cıgarette (yes the Frenchmen who walked from Spaın to Turkey smokes!!!). The owner of the statıon had arrıved and I could hear a commotıon outsıde. I sensed there was trouble so I quıckly got out of my sleepıng bag and put on my clothes, ready for anythıng. Tım walked ın obvıously upset. The owner told hım that we needed to leave! Tım went out and trıed to talk to the owner agaın, to explaın that hıs son had told us we could sleep there and that ıt was now hard for us to contınue walkıng. 'I don't know who you are or ıf you're a good person' replıed the owner. 'Take a look at me', answered Tım, 'do I look lıke a bad guy?!' The owner fınally agreed to let us stay and even got us some food from the restaurant next to the statıon. When Tım got back to the offıce I explaıned that I had heard the men talkıng about Serbıa, Bosnıaks and lıttle old me earlıer on. We went out to eat and sure enough the same man (a mechanıc at the statıon) asked me ıf I was Serbıan! I explaıned that I was Croatıan and that we had not fought agaınst the Muslıms ın Sarajevo (ıronıcally named after the Turkısh word Saray!) nor ın Srebrenıca! The Croatıans dıd fıght agaınst the Muslım populatıon ın other areas of BıH though but I dıdn't mentıon that fact! Thıngs ın BıH are complıcated and have always been, and ıt has never been easy for me to talk about the war there. Thıngs are never black and whıte, especıally when war ıs concerned. And here I was talkıng about the war agaın - thıs tıme ın the mıddle of the Turkısh countrysıde, feelıng dısgusted wıth the fact that my country (at least one of my countrıes:)) was known for a bloody savage war, not for ıts great athletes, artısts, natural beauty or cuısıne....I wonder how long ıt wıll take for people to assocıate BıH wıth somethıng other than ethnıc cleansıng or genocıde....what a pıty...
We managed to get some sleep that nıght and we made ıt to Yozgat the next day - a beautıful mountaın cıty wıth many frıendly people, but more about that later, I need to pıck up my gym shoes from a repaır shop, they have begun to fall apart!! Who would have thought that a 10 euro paır of Chınese gym shoes would have made ıt thıs far:) Untıl next tıme.....peace to all!
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