New Views

Who said that "the eyes are the windows to the soul? If the eyes really are the windows to the soul, then windows must be "the soul of inspiration”….(or something like that).
Why the mental meandering? Because today I have a new view on the World, after several weeks of cleaning and painting we are just a few days away from being able to move into our new flat. There is still much to do…but I was able to find a spot on our freshly scrubbed balcony today, with windows that look north, where I was able to sit and ponder my paltry perceptions.

My Window to the North

I am at the very heart of the matter a “visual person”...I find it impossible to talk to someone without maintaining visual contact. I cannot compose a single sentence without an image in my head to write “around”. So "windows" are critical to this struggling scribe.

Just out my window (this balcony has an enclosure with windows) is a large plum tree. I look out onto the upper part of this tree whose base is 30 feet below. If you are sitting on this balcony, you cannot see the base of the tree. Your view is of the thickest part of the foliage without distraction.
The plums are hanging heavy on the upper branches and out of the reach of all but the nimblest. They have been taunting me there for weeks now…the lower branches have been stripped bare by those who pass…but the jewels of this tree still hang heavy and golden…and safe. Until today.

A hijabed head popped into my view. It was attached to a twenty something-ish mother who was rapidly climbing to the upper reaches of this tree. She saw me and smiled in embarrassment…being just a few feet from the edge of my balcony she could have stepped inside our window with ease.

Hidden in the Trees

She gathered a few of the most succulent looking plums from the crown of this tree and dropped them into the waiting hands of her children below. With a smile tinged with apprehension she scampered down to the ground and led her brood away. It was a delightful interruption and my first real impression through these windows. A smarmy observation you say?....Perhaps. But, when was the last time you saw your mother scurry up to the top of a tree to procure treats for you?

Wired for Power

They gave me my own piece of wire today. It was a moment that will not soon be forgotten. You see, to get your own piece of lamp wire means that you get control. Control means that you can supply your family with the extravagance of electrical accoutrements such as lights, a functioning refrigerator and what not.

My Tech Tools

Living in a notable, ancient city (no Mark…Chicago is not "ancient"...and there is a difference between "notable" and "notorious") you run into centuries of historical infrastructure or, a lack of the same. Here in our 20th century municipality that has built itself on pre-historical civilization, we live in comparative comfort, with a minor exclusion here and there.
One of these omissions happens to be the electrical supply to our building. Being a mix of old and new construction our basement contains the meter room with connections for all the units. Our particular union with the juice has a modern meter attached to a decades old ceramic circuit box. Some time ago modern circuit breakers were added, but instead of removing the older ceramic fuses from the linkage, they simply made miniature jumper wires using old coins and lamp wire. Now, to keep the electrical flow active it must first run through an old fuse held together by burned Turkish Lira coins and short pieces of lamp wire.
While this functions well most of the time we have had several episodes of the wire melting to the ceramic fuse and losing our electrical supply. The first few times this happened our building handyman fixed the problem. However, there seems to be a rash of melting wires, and the poor guy spends a good part of his day making new jumper wires to keep up with the demand.
I think he got overwhelmed and took a breather, because today I found a coil of old lamp wire he had left for me. I also found a pile of old business cards (you use those to hold the fuse…those little buggers get so hot they glow red), and a plastic bag to use to grip the ceramic fuse receptacle so you can break the seal of freshly melted wire and coins.

Kaboom

It came in divine timing…no sooner had I found the stash of goodies than the fuse began to glow red, the unmistakable “pop” followed (it’s more like a “cracking kaboom”…accompanied by blue spikes and bright yellow sparks) and the lights went out. I grabbed my new electrical implements and went to work. Five minutes later we had the juice flowing.
It made my day…here we are, foreigners, living on the far side of the World and today I found myself the honored recipient of lamp wire, a stack of old cards, and a plastic bag. After just three months of living in Istanbul, I already have my own fix it kit!

Swinging Doors

Doors don't seem to rate high on our list of things of import...unless they are closed and we need them open...or...they are open, and we thought they were closed. We are trying to figure out which of these we are facing.
We had plans to travel to Beirut for meetings (and a week of vacation), and then to Aleppo, Syria to research a period of Jean Louis Burkhardt's life...a Swiss explorer who lived in Aleppo for several years to study Arabic, (he later went on to discover the Temple of Ramses II among many other of today's archaeological wonders).
Ok...let's put the theme here on "hold"...this is going to take some time, so let me taxi around this with a "Burkhardt Moment" (this is a good time to go for snacks if your not historically inclined): Jean Louis Burkhardt was the first non-Muslim to be documented as visiting Mecca, even today, almost 300 years after his death, he stands as a giant of archaeological exploration and discovery, he was a master of disguise and subterfuge all in the pursuit of Central Asian knowledge. He...was a wanderer extraordinaire.

Jean Louis Burkhardt, the Wanderer



This guy actually spent several weeks sleeping in a flea and vermin infested caravansary in order to become "gamey" enough to pass as a native pilgrim...It worked. He was able to travel for several years throughout the Middle East and avoid discovery as to his "Swiss-ness"...his mastery of local dialects, accent, grasp of the vernacular, and cultural knowledge allowed him to fit in.
Because of his dedication to culturally adapt to his surroundings he gained access to the most guarded places. Petra, Aaron's Tomb, the Kaaba, and the Snake Monument were among the most significant, this was before the rest of the World even knew these places existed, (sorry about the verbosity that is present...Jean's life story winds my clock).
Open or Closed?

Now, if you're still with me we'll get back to the post. As I was saying...we had planned on visiting Aleppo and Damascus two weeks ago, but due to some Visa issues and the high cost of just applying for our Visas with no guarantees ($400.00)we put it off until October. After Syria we thought we would take a week of vacation in Beirut to coincide with some interviews and meetings we have scheduled (Beirut is our 2nd favorite city in the World) before heading back to Istanbul (our 3rd favorite city in the World...you can guess our number 1...can't you?).
Now with the renewed vigor of Middle East unrest it all seems in doubt. We have friends in Beirut that we had planned to spend time with. We will keep you posted as to our October expedition and where it will lead....Syria is still at the top of the list...we are in the process of "rattling doors". For now I am up in the middle of the night looking for Jean Louis' biography (it's time to peruse it again)...if you want a great read...hunt this one down.

Bits and Pieces

Word is out that the Stewards need help. Yesterday our little Village of Kazasker in Istanbul jumped to life to help us organize our move and a bathroom remodel. (For the complete post click on the Metroblogging link to your right). We are neck deep in chaos, no water and no toilet…but we have a great group of locals that have come to bat for us.




Today they went to work and bashed the daylights out of this 40 year old Turkish bathroom. Tonight it is in bits and pieces...but morale is high. In between numerous glasses of tea and cigarette breaks they finished up with the demo around 7pm tonight. We have had a great time working with them today.

Going In

Kitchen Sink...(Next to the Big Crack)
Welcome to our new show: "The Lifestyles of the Far and Wandering"...a bit different from those who make their living creating warm, aesthetically energizing, and pursposefully peaceful interior living spaces.....Huh?
This is our new flat, the previous tenants left in a rush and we took these pics before beginning work. We have just a few weeks to get this place out of the Petri dish and into shape for us to move into. The location is great, the rent is reasonable, and other than being pretty beat up...we think we can tweak (Ok..."Tweak" is a bit weak) it back into "Early Nomad". That suits us well.

Soap Anyone?
Our Own Science Experiment

Ok...forgive the sarcasm. We really are upbeat about this place. For starters it's indoors, and has water, and heat. That alone puts us in the top 6% of the World's population. A bit of bleach, a lot of muscle and Martha Stewart will be begging for a tour. In case you don't hear from us for a few days...you know where we are and what we will be doing (can you mix bleach with Roundup)?

Costco Culture

I am actually at a loss for words...not really (like that could ever happen to a Steward). But I am close to being at a loss for words. Here we sit on the other side of the world and the Price Club/Costco crowd has made themselves known. Not the Stateside version of pensioners who time their stops at these mega-stores to be the first to sample the free give aways...but their Greek counterparts.
The View from the Promenade


I used to walk the aisles of Costco on the West Coast and be amazed at the "survival of the fittest" mode that people adopted as the "Spicy Turkey Weenies" were coming off the grill on those little toothpicks...they would jostle, push, shove and joust for position as if it were the last food they would be able to take home to their starving family. It seemed all elements of decorum and grace were abandoned...reputations squandered....all for the passion of a heat and serve gastronome.

Tonight as I compose this dispatch I am sitting in the lobby of the Makedonian Palace in Thessaloniki watching the same set at work. There is a Greek Wedding taking place and while there is a considerable "Big & Fat" element to it...it is the little old ladies who are wandering through the lobby, not part of the Wedding Party... who are cleaning off the cookie trays and stashing them in their large LV purses. One old bird has made her 5th pass at the Divinity Puffs and is gearing up for another.

So...even though the location has changed...the impulse hasn't...when it comes to free party food....the game is afoot.
High Tech Travel Laundry

Seduction by Diesel

I have been seduced by a beautiful woman. Her movements are hypnotic and serpentine and she carries me along taking me where she wants to go. I am powerless to stop her, back away or protest. She has taken me away from home and comfort and is lulling me with her charms. And....She smells of diesel.
Leaving Istanbul

Her name? The Orient Express...well, not "The Orient Express"...that one runs from Istanbul to Paris. This one is the Dostuk Filia and she is taking our family of four on a midnight journey to Thessaloniki. For awhile we will share the same rails of the OE...and the train station in Istanbul is the final destination and home of the OE. But this journey is on her kinder and less mysterious sister.
The Star and Crescent from our Sleeper

Our journey here was fraught with adventure and discomfort and we have never before spent a more inconveniently enchanting evening in our lives. I am paying by the second to post here....more on this story in a future print column. From the Thermaic...Global Nomads

Bad Hair Days

I had a fugue this last week...once we arrived home from Ephesus we were able to experience, in consecutive bouts, a mild form of some stomach ailment. Couple that with the heat and it laid us a bit low and sapped my limited wit and discourse ability.
We are still not back on our feet firmly, but will be leaving in a few hours on the overnight train from Istanbul to Thessaloniki. We have some interviews and research in Greece to complete before returning Sunday or Monday. We aren't sure of our return date because we can't (nor can our neighbors) read the ticket master's scribbles. We do know that it will be sometime in July though.

Just after midnight, a snowdrift stopped the Orient Express in its tracks. The luxurious train was surprisingly full for the time of year. But by the morning there was one passenger fewer. An American lay dead in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside.
With tension mounting, detective Hercule Poirot comes up with not one, but two solutions to the crime.
(from HarperCollins "The Agatha Christie Collection" cover)
Murder on the Orient Express

Upon our return I hope to catch you up on a multitude of subjects, of which these are not the least:

Distracted Turkish Barbers (don't get your hair cut on the day of the World Cup playoffs if there is a TV in the barber shop)

Health Club Cigarette Breaks (they actually have ashtrays on the weight machines...lift a little...puff a little....lift a little...puff a little...lift, lift, lift...puff a lot...lift a little now). My apologies to "The Music Man".

On Becoming A Muslim A few days ago I met with the Village Chief to take care of some registration paperwork. I walked in a Protestant...and walked out a Muslim. We never discussed religious orientation...But my registration paperwork says clearly....Islam Ev...House of Islam. Hmmm?

We will be boarding the Dostuk Filia at the Istanbul Train station in just a few hours. This station was the famed destination in Agatha Christie's "Murder on the Orient Express". We are hoping for a less robust experience.

Window on the World

Looking Down

After seeing the cleaning lady in the next building out on the ledge cleaning windows (4 floors up), a few weeks ago, Stanley had to have his go at it today. Everything was great until he stood up and looked behind him...and then down. After that he decided he could clean just as well sitting on the ledge instead of standing. Then he thought he would be a better "inside spotter" while Ann cleaned on the ledge.

Mopping Up

It doesn't matter how high up the apartment is, to get the windows really clean the women have to get out on the ledge and scrub the windows with soap and a brush and then squeegee it dry. I saw an "80'something" out on a 10th floor ledge the other day scrubbing away. The upside is if she fell to her death, her family would have a "Windex Clear" window, to view granny's flight. Someone once said, "its not the fall that hurts...Its the sudden stop at the end".
We have been here almost 10 weeks now and we impressed our neighbors by getting to the windows today. For an hour Ann and Stanley had an audience of women leaning out on their balconies to see the action.
Even now as I write this column (sitting Turkish style...cushions on the floor),I have an audience. Twenty feet from our livingroom window is an adjacent apartment building with a window facing us. A white sheet covers the window, but the curious mistress of the house keeps peeking through the side of the sheet at the "Yabanci"... Me, the foreigner.
Our Curious Friend's Window

I catch her movement out of the corner of my eye every few minutes, sometimes she lingers and is bold, other times she glances out quickly before disappearing again. I haven't acknowledged her curiosity because it would humiliate her.
So...Here I sit on the Far Side of the World; I'll continue to write...she'll continue to peek...and life will go on in Istanbul.

Heat Culture

Kazasker Jamii on a Quiet Night

It seems that from Grants Pass, Oregon, to Istanbul, Turkey, things are hot. I talked to home yesterday and the temp in GP was 103.3 degrees. In fact the whole West Coast is hot and miserable.
It isn't quite that hot here (wait until August), but the lack of AC sure makes it seem warm. The coolest we have seen the inside temp is 82 degrees in the middle of the night. During the day it hits the high 90's. We are in the shower frequently and wet from the heat in between. "Damp" is our life right now.
We were taking care of government paperwork yesterday in one of the large civil buildings downtown. The line was long and we were crowded into a narrow hallway with one small window that was half open behind the counter. I was holding a form in my hand and by the time I handed it to the clerk it was soaked. The sweat was running down my arms and dripping off my fingers onto the floor. The locals were standing patiently while puddles collected on the floor from the perspiration that was dripping off of them.
A young guy at the front of the line wasn't pleased with the service so he started yelling and taking swings at the little girl behind the counter. Then pell mell hit and we found ourselves in the middle of a good old fist fight. Offices emptied as employees started to rush into the fray. Our small hallway became a sea of people and we found ourselves caught in the wave of movement as the intensity of the fight picked up.
Since we are here to learn the culture and understand the people, I shoved Ann in a corner and looked for the opportunity to leap in. Ahhh...the good days were back and I found the moment refreshing and invigorating. Sweat, body odor, testosterone and a fight you couldn't lose...You can't put a price on that one!
It all ended with a bunch of Turks dragging the ruffian down the marble steps and into a back lot. Just seconds after they had him behind the door....he quit making such a fuss. I think there was a "no paperwork" solution to the problem. It was a great lesson in reactive discipline. I am still smiling.
Waiting Out The Heat At Cemre Kebap

Sorry about the side story...Back to the agenda: It has been so warm that even in the middle of the night the cafes and coffee houses have been empty. The last few days parts of Istanbul have seemed deserted.
That kinda messes things up...I had just submitted our next travel column to the papers talking about the "enchanting evenings and great weather" when things suddenly turned warm. I am not the Master of Timing.

Warming Up

Its been a scorcher here in Istanbul. It didn't break 82 degrees last night and by the time of the Azan (4:40am) the temp was already climbing again. The hot weather makes for beautiful evenings...especially after 10pm. But during the day our apartment starts cooking.
We took a trip up the Bosphorus by boat today to find some relief from the heat. For the next few days we will fall in sync with the locals who are up and out really late while its cooler, and in and down during the heat.

Leander's Tower

Uskudar on the Asian Side

Asia Meets Europe on the Bosphorus Bridge

Bosphorus Bridge

Stanley's Goose in Kadikoy

Sandvik and Soda

We hopped Turk Air 0315 back to Istanbul this morning. And while this was just a 50 minute flight...we had barely stopped climbing when the drink service started up the aisle....followed by another cart with a delightful Turk Hostess asking "Sandvik and Soda"? We got more on this short flight than our Los Angeles to Chicago a few months ago...go figure.
Within an hour of landing we were lugging our backpacks up the stairs and into our apartment in Kadikoy. The neighbors came out to welcome us home and give us our mail. Tomorrow they said they want a "full report" of our travels and time for tea. My buddy at the jep shop kissed my cheeks hello as we headed to the Kebap shop for dinner. It is good to be home.

Emotional Buffet

Ok.....I was a bit emotional last night in my audio blog....the moon, the waves, the sense of history and romance made a bewitching concoction that reduced me to acute melodramatism (is that a word?)
In my defense though, this is a place of overwhelming impressions and sentimental impact. Ephesus was so pivotal in its historical influence and political persuasion that to see it reduced to a pile of rocks messes with my head. I know you egg heads out there can talk about cultural progression and make sense of it all...but I am a simple thinker.
So... tired of swatting skeeters in the lobby of our hotel (the only wifi spot), I am heading to ground leaving you with an ocular buffet to feed your senses.

Comfort Zone

Stanley and Nejmi


A little boy that is making quick friendships in Asia. This is a frequent stop for us in Istanbul. This rug shop owner and Stanley have become good friends...he has an open invitation to hang out with Nejmi anytime and help sell rugs, play backgammon, and drink tea. He has spent hours in this shop with his buddy...shows how quickly your comfort zone can be adjusted, if, you're open to change.

Splitting Hairs and Ripping Roots

Some things are best left unsaid....I hope to learn that lesson someday. It is uncommon to find razors of any quality in our parts. The big deal, locally, are these cool little handheld doodahs that pull your hair out by its roots. They purport a painless and even enjoyable epilation. All the girls at the store say it is the only way to remove unwanted hair from the legs etc.. And all the advertisements show young ladies smiling and laughing while using the product. The younger of my two girls has been longing for one...So, after finding a great deal a few days ago, we bought it.
This is a "girls only" appliance. But, curious to see how the "220 Volt Turbo Epilady Maxima" worked...I touched it (ever so briefly) to my exposed abdomen. I was quite surprised by the words and vocabulary that came so quickly to the tip of my tongue. In all honesty, it was not nearly as pleasant an experience as I expected. There is a lot more about this subject that I would like to tell you about. But am not allowed.
The worst part for me was that both of my girls were able to complete their epilation without vocalizing the words that I yearned to utter.
I am not "Consumer Products", but my personal experience with any 220 volt Epilation appliance, is two thumbs down.
Since I cannot show you the pictures to accompany this story: Here is an assortment of photos from our week. Off to Ephesus in 7 hours.
Basilica Cistern

Hanging With Nejmi and Ahmet

Cat in the Rain
A Turk's Kindness

Point of Light

Time to sharpen your fangs folks. My hide has been thickened in preparation for today's column.
I love our people, we are a giving, caring and sacrificing bunch. But boy....We like our money and its accoutrements. We place such a high value on money that we use it as a filter for the worth of people, positions, plaudits and power. In fact we even base major, life changing decisions on how financially sound it will be, often without any regard for the moral, personal, or humanitarian issues involved.
We have been fortunate to see the giving side of our people. Until now, I was under the impression that we were, by far, the most giving nation in the World.
Shylock was famous for wandering the docks in Venice crying out, "My Ducats, My Daughter...My Ducats, My Daughter". He couldn't decide whether he was more distressed over the loss of a small part of his fortune, or the fact that it had accompanied fair Jessica (his only child) out of his life and into estrangement.
Not much is different on this side of the World. There are those that got...and those that "got naught".
Here's the pinch: Our limited experience in Istanbul has given us the impression that those in need are given much in the way of respect and care. This is not universal in its application, but the interaction we have seen between the needy and the "need nots" has touched us. The poor gather on the steps to the Mosque, where the faithful on their way to prayers, must pass by them. It is rare to see them ignored or passed by without an offering or some act of kindness.
Points of Light in Istanbul


I have seen more "simple giving" to the needy, here in Istanbul, than anywhere else. My prior experience showed me that others wanted to specify "how" someone in need would use whatever might be "gifted" their way. When we do it that way, we not only become the giver but also the administrator of the funds. It boils down to financial manipulation...Charity in the cloak of control. Real gifts are given without regret or reproof. I guess that seems pretty foolish to give so flagrantly...huh? Or is it?
I have a close friend that is elderly. He is famous in Cappadocia for his generosity. His acquaintances tell me that for 50 years he has given to those who were in need...to the point that he has now given his fortune, quite completely, away. Today he helps his son in a rug shop in Istanbul to make ends meet. He is a devout Muslim who is honorable and trustworthy...a man of high esteem in his circle. He is my close personal friend and I look up to him.
Are you still reading? Here's the point: He doesn't regret helping those who may have misused the gift he gave them. In fact, given his current circumstances, he said he would give it away, all over again, if given the chance. He told me it is not his job to differentiate the poor's needs versus their wants...That job belongs only to Allah. Ahmet explained that his job was only to give when he saw a need...not investigate it and weigh it to determine its worth.
Who would have expected to find a heart so generous and self deprecating in this volatile region? See!...Getting out into the fresh air does me good after all. Take a deep breath and think before you respond. The light that is making you squint comes from the smile of an old Cappadocian man who knows the joy of unconditional giving.

Clearing The Air

After the vigorous response to yesterday's posting on the Turkish Toilet I thought we would clear the air today and move in a new direction. Today we had an interview with a Cappadocian friend of mine who owns a rug shop in Sultanahmet. I have been working on a column featuring Ahmet which is due in a few weeks. Once again we were treated like royalty...which is to be expected in any Turkish shop.
While Ahmet and I talked, Ann and the kids were treated to drinks and looked at their pottery offerings. Ahmet invited me to travel to Cappadocia with him tomorrow for a week in his home town. Sadly, I declined due to existing commitments.

Gulhane Park

After leaving the shop we headed around the corner and into Gulhane Park. This was the private garden of the Sultans of the Ottoman Empire until the 1920's. Today it is a hot spot for weekend walks and picnics. Tonight it was enchanting. We finished up with tea overlooking the water...missed the last ferry (again) to Kadikoy and ended up back in Asia a bit north of where we wanted to be. At midnight,its 84 degrees indoors, the streets are still full of people, the windows are open, and the breeze has finally picked up.


The Çai Garden Overlookıng The Bosphorus

Across The Water To Home

Squatter's Rights...and Wrongs

I give, and I give, and I give...but its never enough. Well here it is...the famous Turkish toilet some of you keep asking me about. Now don't go getting all sophisticated and high brow about this (I know some of you are flaring your nostrils right now in repugnance). I have seen bathrooms in the States that are much worse than anything we have run into here (Try the "comfort station" at the I-5 rest stop just north of Kettleman City for starters). Some of you will tell me that this post is beneath me: Yes, it really is.
Turkish Toilet











This is an old public toilet on an old public ferry. This is as bad as we have seen it here, and this one is still very suitable. While the posture needed to acquire a successful transfer takes practice...the upkeep and plumbing are very simple. There is no toilet paper or seat covers, and you never have to worry about "running", clogged or leaking toilets. All final undocking machinations are accomplished using the little plastic garden water jug. At the end of a busy day all it needs is a good hosing down.
Now for the details (this would be a good point for my aunts to stop reading):

You must be flexible in the knees to attain the proper alignment. Make sure that your clothing is not hanging down, touching the floor or (this is really, really important) not in the line of sight between you and the bowl. Do not lean against the wall or support yourself with your hands (your going to need both of them soon)...just place your feet on the treads with your back to the wall, bend at the knees (all the way down) without touching the bowl, and lean forward a bit.
To complete the process you use your Right Hand (this is an important key to remember) to pour water from the jug, onto your Left Hand, which then is used to "freshen up" in place of toilet paper.
You then pour some more water onto the Left Hand to "freshen it up". The real important part of the process? Do not transfer the water jug to the Left Hand at any time. If you do it gets really untidy and no one will come to help you.
Then, as a courtesy, you refill the little plastic jug from another bottle of water in the corner, or in some cases a little water tap on the wall. You are then clear to return to your table and continue your meal.
You will view your Left Hand differently after this. That is why it is rude to shake hands or handle food with the Left Hand in Asia. In fact you will notice people placing their Left Hand behind their back to keep it out of sight while greeting or meeting someone. It also causes you to notice who's Left Hand is returning to the chip bag and your own fingernail hygiene.

Night on the Town

The New Mosque


The days are getting warmer...which is sending more people out late at night. We followed their lead and jumped on the bus last night and headed to the European side to Taksim Square.
After a food stop we were off to Eminonou and the New Mosque (hundreds of years old and still called "new"). We arrived in time for the last prayers of the day at 10:30pm. Fireworks were being shot off at Sultanahmet so we went up the hill and sat in front of the Blue Mosque for awhile after the crowds had left. We had the place to ourselves with the exception of a few gypsy families in the park.
We had missed the last ferry to Kadikoy, so we opted for the ferry to Uskudar. It put us back in Asia and north of where we wanted to be. We arrived in Kadikoy well after midnight and took a Dolmus home.
The dolmus driver wanted me to sit with him and we talked in very bad (my part) Turkish. Before long the whole bus was laughing and talking to us. The driver didn't want us to get off so he slowed down to 5mph the last two miles. As they sped away they were waving and yelling goodbyes through the windows. We walked the last mile to home and got to bed later than I want to admit.

Downtown Istanbul Last Night

Evenings In The East

Looking West, Dozens Of Minarets In The Distance

The weather today deserves a post. I was up with my neighbors for the 4:30ish call to prayer this AM and it was already turning hot. By late afternoon it had begun to cool down and we headed out to visit Koşuyolu. It turned into one of the loveliest evenings we have seen to date.
The street market for our neighborhood in Koşuyolu is on Sunday. We checked out the market, up one hill and down another. And then returned to where we started, up one hill and down another.
Then we saw it....a hill we hadn't climbed yet...one built in the style of San Francisco...at least a mile climb, so we started the walk up the cobblestone street. Elle and I were getting close to the top when Stanley took a stumble and fell. Some passing Turks rushed over to make sure he was Ok. He is...other than some scrapes, torn pants and scuffs.
Tending the Wounded at the Mosque Fountain

We walked a few more miles before grabbing a taxi home. It seemed everywhere we went tonight people were out: On balconies, walking the streets, sitting at the fountains or parks and congregating around the many Mosques we passed. It reminded me of a Summer afternoon in old San Diego.

Trash, Toilets, and Losers

Its "melt your chocolate" weather here in Istanbul. Yeah, I know....we're "San Diego lightweights" when it comes to the heat. If you think that is sad, I have a friend that actually thinks Chicago is America's finest city (that's what happens when you spend too much time indoors kids). For what its worth...Summer has "lit" here in Istanbul.
We have found an apartment to call home. Our move date is late July/early August...it's nice having that issue settled. The apartment is closer to the center of the City and about a 40 minute walk to language school. After the current tenants leave in July, it will need some remodel work, putting us into it mid-summer.













For Those With Sophisticated Palates

Our language skills are progressing: I ordered a drink the other day and got onion rings with it. I didn't know whether to thank them for the gift or reorder. Elle found some toilet paper yesterday called "Yumy".....(MMMmmmmm makes you hungry and wanting a bathroom all at the same time, huh)?

Moving from toilets to trash now. I was drinking tea at a market yesterday when I heard American Music playing over the tea garden's speakers. The words were in English and were surprisingly coarse and explicit. I am no novice when it comes to dockyard language...but these words and the content and theme were filthy and degrading. I have spent many years in locker rooms and among Alpha M's...but I have never heard this type of dialogue. Yet here I was, on the other side of the World and music from my country is blaring in all its brazenness to the ear of adult and child without discretion. I know that this music isn't "Main Stream America"...but they don't. They hear a beat that is catchy and they play it without knowing its translation. And we wonder why our words and actions are not held in high regard among these people of Central Eurasia?
I needed the Rant time: It was either this or the Callous and Conceited Everest Climbers that were on the docket for today. That one will have to wait...I'll need more medication before we talk about those losers...

Walking In The Dark

They tell you that "location" is everything. I have never been one to embrace the life of the "salesman," (I had a bad experience once and don't want to talk about it now). But, if you are in the business of trading goods...then the old phrase fits. Location is everything.
This posting has nothing to do with commerce and everything to do with geography. The last few days we have been overwhelmed with all the things that go along with changing cultures, language, and home.
Let me taxi around this for a moment: A few years ago we lived in a major European City. After the honeymoon stage and the romance of travel wore off, we experienced what every 3rd culture family will tell you about...culture shock. When it hits, you want to hole up and watch Bob Hope and Bing Crosby and shut this "new world" out.
However, we have found the exact opposite in Istanbul. When we miss home, get frustrated about our language struggles and hit the wall physically or emotionally...we find therapy in getting out and spending time with the Turks.
These people are amazing. I know we will eventually have bad experiences and run into people that are unkind. But to date, five weeks into being "Istanbullus", we have yet to find a Turk who isn't quick to laugh and smile.
The last few evenings we have been up and out late, walking the streets at midnight. Tonight as I write this, we have just returned from another stroll. The streets are full of families quietly walking along, fathers smoking, mothers holding the hands of their children, and young people sitting on the wall talking and laughing. The call to prayer rang out around 10:15pm and the courtyard of the Mosque was full of men and boys coming to pray.
The Durum shop was rolling sandwiches and the tea shops were filled with couples drinking and smoking. Everywhere we went we found smiles and laughter.
As I walk down the street each day vendors yell to me and laugh at my bad Turkish. They are quick to help and easy to love. Yesterday one of my friends walked out of his shop...he had learned a phrase just for me: "How can I take your money today"?
It makes me wonder what other peoples we have missed in our wanderings? Our life among the Turks is a rich one. We would have missed so much if we had not met these people. I understand the phrase now: Location, location, location...in our case, its a good one.

Eileen or Irene?

I was sitting in language class this last week when I had a rogue thought: Wouldn't it be a bummer to learn how to speak a new language...and then discover that your language teacher had a lisp?
Those thoughts were floating by as we were repeating phrases that our kind teacher was pronouncing for us. Thankfully, he doesn't have a speech impediment...but it makes you think.
Those are the types of thoughts that keep me awake at night. This has been a rough week for sleeping. Since I am not an "easy sleeper"...getting 4 hours a night puts me in pretty good shape, but even that goal has been elusive lately. On the other hand...it has resulted (at least partly) in a great weight loss program. Our last 12 months in the States saw me become a corpulent, middle aged, wanderer...too young to be a "real hippie" and too old to stay in a hostel. I was stubborn and refused to buy the next size up as we gathered our gear for this move.
Now, in just the last 4 weeks I have lost 10 pounds. Just think...all I need to do is grow 4 inches taller or lose another 40lbs and I will be able to find my "height/weight ratio" on that little brochure the doctor gave me. I may not be in the "ideal" column...but I will be able to point to the pink warning column and find my numbers! After all...my dad has proven that as long as you get to the hospital in time...you never have to modify your diet.

Back On The Water Today

Bosphorus Tunnel

The Dredge Beginning The Work

As we have mentioned before...Istanbul is a city that sits at the meeting point of the continents of Asia and Europe. Most of the tourist's attractions are on the European side, but the oldest, or earliest settled part of the city is on the Asian side.
Separating these two continents and sides of the city is the Bosphorus...a beautiful strait that leads from the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea. Several bridges span this section of water and the ferries run frequently.

Map Of The Tunnel

But now an incredible project is underway to link the continents by an undersea rail tunnel. The work is just now beginning and the projected completion is in 2011.
For our part, we love the ferry ride across the Bosphorus. We are still out looking for an apartment and have now focused on the Asian side of the city.
This has been a rough week. I still can't find my wit. It seems that I've fallen....and I kinda like it down here.