Carpet Epilogue

My Turkish carpet and three "Ottoman design" pillows:

After 35 hours of traveling yesterday (missed a connection in London, got upgraded to Business Class to Toronto four hours later so some say I can't complain...) my parents picked me up at midnight. And guess what - my carpet had arrived a day early. So we came home and, since I was wide - awake, I made them eat baklava and help me roll it out.

Looks amazing, right?

And, yeah, the air feels great.

A Masters in Istanbul

Happy Birthday, ANGIE!!

I was dreading my last three days in Istanbul until I found out that the Verona Sisters - Clara and Veronica - would be staying at the hostel near the Galata Tower, just one block from me. We have been inseparable for two days now, and I just walked them to the Metro for their ride to the airport where we all said, "See you again."

 

They didn't know it, but I practiced my Istanbul food tour guide skills on them (for when I try out for a job with Culinary Backstreets). They said lots of "Bellisimo!" so I think I will get good references when I let them in on it.  

 

We also saw a Whirling Dervish Show - a form of Sufi meditation that imitates the rotation of the planets (this was mesmerizing and put us to sleep after a hot day of walking):

 

 

and we stopped to listen to many street musicians here for a cultural festival. We kept each other from being hit by trollies and taxis and we also did a little shopping. Possibly the best time was when we ended last night by going to my airbnb apartment's amazing rooftop deck that overlooks the whole city - the Sophia Hagia, the Blue Mosque, the Galata Bridge and Topkapi Palace - and talked about all of our adventures here over the past few weeks.

 

When we parted, on their recommendation, I continued on the tram for a few more stops and tried another Hamammi (Turkish Bath) because they made it sound a million times better than what I had experienced. It was. A million times better.

 

It began with another Big Turkish Mama who demanded things of me like before, but she smiled as she demanded. This time I was not alone - about fifteen women were also laid out over marble, but here we all got a little generic bathing suit to wear. BTM2 lathered me up so that I felt like I was in Bubble World without once getting soap in my eyes or mouth - she kept pulling me into her big round belly and rubbing my head like a cat. A Big Armenian Mama was my masseuse, and, when she discovered I was American, kept saying, "Oh, so very nice, America. So very nice!" And she smiled the whole time, too, during the entire massage. Even after she said, "Finished!' She kept stroking my hair and blessing me and my country.

 

So, yeah, the hammam experience has been redeemed.

 

Afterward, I entered a shop where three men had just sat down to a huge plate of watermelon, bread and Turkish cheese - kind of like feta. They invited me to join them, so of course I did. What a great combination.

 

"When you go back to America," one of them told me, "don't do this without the bread. Make sure you include the bread."

 

Got it. You don't put them all together, either. You take a bite of bread, a bite of watermelon, then a bite of cheese. In that order. I hope you heard me.

 

 

Now, for some overall Turkey Trip reflection:

 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

 

How else to explain it? Lows and highs, but in the end, well worth it. If I had been in possession of a working phone on a few occasions, I would have called Expedia and come home early. But in the back of my mind, I knew I would never really do it.

 

What would I do differently?

 

Well, I would spend maybe four days in the city, then go on a tour so I could come back and have friends. The touring part was where I met the Verona Sisters, Omar and his Parents, the Pakistani mother and daughter, and the couple from Dubai. The week of touring has been non-stop fun and activity - as you can probably tell by my brief posts, and now I have people WhatsApp - ing me all the time. Before the tour, I did get lonely.

 

As for the touring, Huseyin advised me really well. All three stops - Cappadocia, Pammukale and Ephesus - were fascinating. I want to say I will never, ever ride a night bus again, but I wouldn't have been able to do all three if I hadn't done the bus. (The last bus ride was the worst, too - three crying babies on that one. But my seat partner was a serious Turkish woman who was quite invested in me having an enjoyable bus ride. She chose my American/Turkish-dubbed movies for me (and I pretended to watch them just to satisfy her), she adjusted my volume to her liking, and - when I accidentally got up when I thought we were stopping for a toilet break, she pulled me down and placed her hand on my leg so that I wouldn't try it again. When we said goodbye in Istanbul, she wore a very self-congratulatory expression when I thanked her for "everything.") (Oh, and we got in at 7 am, but I couldn't get into my place until 9, so I waited at a coffee shop and my airbnb person was an hour late, then the WiFi and toilet didn't work... but that all got fixed by noon... and yes, I was so very very tired.)

 

As for staying in airbnb places... mixed feelings. Three out of four airbnb finds were fantastic for price and location, but they were all pretty isolating. Would I change my wooden house neighborhood with the borek bakery next door and the restaurant with the friendly waiters? No, probably not. But next time, I will only do it this way if I have a traveling partner. I think. I don't know.

 

As for eggplant - well, I didn't quite eat it EVERY day. I would say I ate it about 18 out of 21 days, though, and tonight I went back for the meatball/eggplant/tomato sauce/rice/yogurt plate at the homemade place, and I think I want to eat that at least once a week for the rest of my life. I am not sick of eggplant, but rather quite fascinated by everything that can be done with it. Istanbul has given me so many eggplant-y ideas.

 

You know what I think I will miss most of all, though? This salty yogurt drink called "Ayran." I crave it when I'm sweating to death, which seems a bit strange. The restaurant guys gave it to me the first night I was here, and I've had at least one every day since. Turkish people are impressed and proud when I order it and like to say, "It's good for your body!"

 

Why oh why America? DO SOMETHING about our YOGURT SITUATION!!

 

Oh, and another situation (that maybe America needs to do something about): anti-Israel demonstrations in Taksim Square tonight. Riot police near. But they are eating ice cream and laughing, so Florida has nothing to worry about, really. (She will worry anyway.)

 

That is all for tonight. What will I do tomorrow, my last day? Well, I will just continue to enjoy the benefits of my masters degree in Istanbul. I will eat and walk this city inside and out. Then I will get on a plane and come home and not sweat like this anymore.

 

THANK YOU for following my journey. If not for you, those lonely times would have been SO MUCH more lonely.

 

 And that is a Turkey Wrap...

 

(sorry for the lack of photos in this post - they just wouldn't load!!) 

 

 

 

Greek Mountain Village Baklava

I can return home now. I tasted baklava as good as Tanya's, in a little hill town called Sirince.  Here is the maker of the baklava:

It was fresh. It wasn't too sweet. I wanted to bring the whole tray home, but my friend, Nasip, said it would only keep for four days. Sorry. Here is the tray right out of the oven:

And here is the next step - the syrup is poured over the whole thing and sits for an hour before it is served:

Here's how I got to see the village of Sirince: I had the whole day free with my (last) night bus leaving at 9:30. I was supposed to check out at 11 am. Ugh. I am toured out. I asked the manager of the hotel if I could pay for a half day so I could have an air-conditioned place to hang out and take a shower before the dreaded bus.

He said sure. And he said I know what you should do today. Nasip has the day off and he will take you to his home village. I had spent my breakfast telling Nasip - the guy who works the front desk - where he should go when he travels in Southeast Asia, but I felt a little strange having his boss tell him he had to entertain me for the day.

Well, Nasip turned out to be the best rent-a-friend ever, especially because I didn't have to rent him at all. And his town - and his grandma - were possibly the highlight of my trip. (I realize I keep saying that.) The town is known for its olive oil, for its chili flakes and saffron, for its wine. And there is the cutest town market, which is about seven kilometers outside of Selcuk. Tourists make their way up here after seeing Ephesus, but it has remained pretty pure. Meaning there are no formal tours here - only for those who can navigate the public bus, and for lucky people like me.

I got to see the family house, drink the family's secret stash of blackberry wine (underneath a wrap-around wooden seating area, with cushions, of course)

see the room where he and his grandfather stomped on the grapes and made the olive oil, see the huge wine cellar under the Christian church and was led to all of the best spices and Turkish delight in the market - and got to buy everything at the "friend" price. We also walked to the top of the town, with this view (pillows to relax on at the tower, of course, like the rest of Turkey...)

Here is the a shot from the tower on the highest point of the village:

Have you ever tasted a grape right off the vine?

Only educated through the fifth grade, Nasip spent most of his youth helping his grandfather on the farm (which included eggplant). He learned English "on the street," and did his mandatory military service nine years ago on the border of Iraq, where two of his friends were shot in the head right next to him. He also witnessed "a whole field" of Turkish soldiers murdered below him.

He only told me these things when I asked questions. Most of the time, he was just quiet, asking me what I wanted to see or buy.

He said that most of the men of the village died young, so the women ran the market. When his grandmother came back to visit with us, "others" took over her stand. I asked about his father, and he said he never knew him. He was in prison for fighting and died there when Nasip was ten.

At the end of our visit, we returned to the baklava shop and ordered pide, which is Turkish pizza. I have had this a few times, but this one had a cracker-like crust, and was pulled right out of the wood oven. Delicious.

Great, great day. Most dreaded upcoming night. I think the memories of the mountain village will get me through it.

Back to Istanbul for a few days, then home. I am ready. For home. Really ready.

Ephesus

The library of Ephesus, for you, Rita...

Ephesus - what to say? It's a city, largely intact, from the 10th century BC, population of which could have been between 30-50,000. When you go to a museum and see pieces separately, it's hard to imagine how they all fit together, but spending two hours walking through this site, it makes at least some sense.

Good thing it made some sense, because I could hardly understand our tour guide. With Indonesians, Russians and Italians in my group, I should have been able to comprehend a thick Turkish accent better than all of them. But I kept turning to two sisters from Verona, Veronica and Clara, for clarification. They understood him. He looked like William Shatner, and I was afraid to ask any questions. He was all business. But the Verona sisters were great; it's funny how you know within about two minutes who is going to be your instant friend. Clara is a high school economics/law teacher, and Veronica works at a bookstore. Kindred spirits. We are going to meet back in Istanbul.

Anyway, it was one of those days where I drank it all in, and swore to read about it when I get home. But I will leave you with some pictures:

The goddess Nike - see the swish?

 

 Toilets from the men's bath. There were about 40 of them, all in a circle...

 

 

 

Here is the one column left from the original 127 of the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

 

 

 

And here is the house where Mary - yes, THE Mother Mary - lived. She lived WAY up on a hill, about 20 minutes from Ephesus, but we didn't really learn why. Oh, and St. John also lived in Ephesus...

 

Sorry I cannot provide more information. I blame my tour guide. Hopefully you enjoyed the photos!!