LLWorldTour

Whatever you call it: café, coffee, espresso, café latte, or just a ‘cup of joe,’ coffee has been drunk for centuries and varies depending on the species of coffee plant the bean comes from - a misnomer for seed (arabica, robusta, etc.) - and the type of roast (Italian, French, American, etc.). It was discovered originally in Ethiopia, spread through Arabia into Turkey and eventually to the thriving trade port in Venice. Today coffee drinks are big business and, for better or worse, a cup of coffee has become part of the uniform of the American worker (and an eco-disaster). Noted as one of the world’s largest, most valuable, legally traded commodities after oil, coffee has become a vital cash crop for many Third World countries. Brazil is the world leader in production of green coffee, followed by Vietnam and Colombia. Of course with all this demand comes big ecological impacts as well. A major issue concerning coffee is its use of water. According to New Scientist, it takes about 140 liters of water to grow the coffee beans needed to produce one cup of coffee and coffee is often grown in countries where there is a water shortage.

The concept of fair trade labeling, which guarantees coffee growers a negotiated pre-harvest price, began in Europe in the ’60s.  Fairtrade is about better prices, decent working conditions, local sustainability, and fair terms of trade for farmers and workers in the developing world. By requiring companies to pay sustainable prices (which must never fall below the market price), Fairtrade addresses the injustices of conventional trade, which traditionally discriminates against the poorest, weakest producers. It enables them to improve their position and have more control over their lives.

The production and consumption of “Fair Trade Coffee” has grown in recent years as some local and national coffee chains have started to offer fair trade alternatives. Starbucks, one of the largest buyers of Fair Trade Certified coffee, will double its purchases to 40 million pounds in 2009, making the company the largest purchaser of Fair Trade Certified coffee in the world.   A number of studies have shown that fair trade coffee has a positive impact on the communities that grow it by strengthening producer organizations, improving returns to small producers, and positively affecting their quality of life. The families of fair trade producers were also more stable than those who were not involved in fair trade, and their children had better access to education.

I used to never drink the stuff; all through high school, university, and through my twenties – not a drop. After the Starbucks craze (and, in case you don’t live in the US, there are also many independent cafes and coffee bars in the US) I was sucked in just a little and would maybe treat myself to a few coffees each month. And since I wasn’t a true coffee drinker, these were, of course, the frou frou coffee ‘concoctions’ of Starbucks – like a mocha (espresso with a shot of chocolate syrup…for me minus the whipped cream). Now as I’ve traveled around the world and through Europe, my coffee and thus caffeine intake has dramatically increased - for a few reasons. First, when you are walking around towns and cities for months…you simply need something to do when you ‘take a break.’ And, of course, there are all these inviting cafes lining the streets beckoning you in with happy patrons laughing while they sip a cappuccino. So it was nice for me to join in. Plus if I sat down and ate something every time I wanted to take a break, I’d be as big as a house. Next, I did actually start to appreciate the taste and differences of coffees around the world. From the surprising, yet good, café culture in Melbourne, Australia (where I worked as a barista) and the chains of Asia to the less-than-stellar instant coffee commonly served up in Eastern Europe and the pleasing café au lait of France and rich espressos in Italy. In fact, the more coffee I drink, the less milk I add. I’ve gone from a crazy Starbucks caramel macchiato (not the real macchiato—an espresso ‘stained’ with a drop of milk) to a simple, yet robust, real Italian espresso (in 3 sips you’re done). I used to never order an espresso thinking it was too strong and dark for me, but I have to tell you, these are delicious.

The one coffee I just could not force myself to like is Turkish. For me, it’s just too strong. The grounds are left in the cup which makes for a bit of a sludgy beverage. But the after show is nice…having someone read your fortune in the bottom of your cup. Maybe mine would say, ‘you are drinking too much coffee.’ Well, probably not since the fortuneteller probably gets kick backs from the establishment.

If you’ve been reading along, you may remember I spent a few months living and teaching English in Istanbul last year.  It was an amazing city that left an indelible mark on my soul. I recently sold some photographs and another article to the Smithsonian on Istanbul. Check it out here and be sure to click on the photo gallery.

With a skyline studded with domes and minarets, Istanbul is one of the truly great romantic cities. In Turkey’s largest city, the continents of Europe and Asia come together as West meets East, separated only by the 18 miles of the Bosporus Strait that stretches from the Black Sea in the north to the Sea of Marmara in the south. And in the less literal sense, on the vibrant streets of this city of 12 million people, miniskirts and trendy boots mingle with colorful Muslim head scarves and prayer beads.

Origins:

Istanbul is a treasure trove of history still being uncovered. Archaeological remains show that people have inhabited the immediate area of present-day Istanbul for tens of thousands of years. In 2008, during the construction of the new Marmaray rail tunnel (connecting the European and Asian sides of Istanbul), a previously unknown settlement dating from 6500 BC has been discovered.  In its long history, Istanbul served as the capital city of the Roman Empire (330-395), the Byzantine Empire (395-1204 and 1261-1453), the Latin Empire (1204-1261), and the Ottoman Empire (1453-1922). The city was recently chosen as joint European Capital of Culture for 2010. Istanbul has continued to expand dramatically; today its population is approximately 13 million and increases at an estimated 700,000 immigrants per year. Industry has expanded even as tourism has grown. It continues to be a city that creates its own history at the intersection where both Continents meet.

Then and Now:

Its history traces back from Byzantium to Constantinople to its place as capital of the Ottoman Empire, the most powerful Islamic empire in the world. Today it pulsates as Turkey’s cultural heart and business center.  Urban sprawl has created an Istanbul larger in area than the state of Rhode Island and more populous than all of Greece or Belgium.  Turkey continues to be the center of news and some controversy.  In October 2005 negotiations began between Turkey and the European Union for Turkey to be considered as a possible member of the EU in the future. A conflict persists between the 20-25% Kurdish population and the Turkish government.  For many citizens, women’s dress has become an issue that defines whether a Muslim is secularist or religious. Today, many women are using head scarves as religious symbols against modern Turkish society. The head scarf issue creates lots of problems in the society and in the government between conservatives and modernists.

Appeal:

Istanbul is a jewel box of old and new. Skyscrapers and some of Europe’s largest shopping malls cater to the more affluent set while the old quarter, parts of which are on the UNESCO World Heritage List, continues to dazzle locals and tourists alike with its cobblestone streets, awe-inspiring centuries-old mosques, and the grandeur of the Topkapi Palace which was the official and primary residence of the Ottoman Sultans, from 1465 to 1853. Considered to be the world’s fourth largest cathedral, the magnificent Hagia Sofia museum was originally built by Byzantine Emperor Justinian in 537 AD.  Originally a Byzantine church and later an Ottoman mosque, this marvel is universally acknowledged as one of the great buildings of the world. In this growing city, you can explore the streets where crusaders once marched; admire mosques that are the most sublime architectural expressions of Islamic piety; peer into the sultan’s harem; and hunt for bargains in the world’s original shopping mall, the Grand Bazaar, one of the largest covered markets in the world with more than 58 streets and 6,000 shops, and between 250,000 and 400,000 visitors daily.

Who goes here:

In 2007, more than twenty-seven million tourists visited Turkey. In the lively and historical city of Istanbul, there are thousands of hotels and other tourist oriented industries in the city, catering to both vacationers and visiting professionals. As one of the world’s fastest growing economies, and Turkey’s financial capital, Istanbul has also become a large center for business and business travelers. It has become one of the world’s major conference destinations and is an increasingly popular choice for the world’s leading international associations. According to Forbes magazine, Istanbul had a total of 35 billionaires as of March 2008, ranking 4th in the world behind Moscow (74 billionaires), New York City (71 billionaires) and London (36 billionaires).

Turkey’s beaches are widely popular with Europeans and Russians looking for some sun and sand. And with 5000 miles of coast stretching from the Mediterranean to the Aegean to the Black Sea (just an hour’s drive from Istanbul) there is a sandy spot for everyone.

Istanbul’s appeal among tourists is mainly a result of the vibrant cultures that have flourished in the city and the melting pot of different religions that have existed side by side throughout history.

Famous sons and daughters:

Elia Kazan (September 7, 1909 - September 28, 2003) was born Elias Kazanjoglou in the capital city of the Ottoman Empire, Constantinople (modern-day Istanbul) to a Greek family. He was an Academy Award-winning film and theatre director, Tony Award-winning theatrical producer, screenwriter, novelist and cofounder of the influential Actors Studio in New York in 1947. He directed such Broadway plays as “A Streetcar Named Desire” and “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”. He directed the film version of A Streetcar Named Desire, On the Waterfront, and many other films.

Ferit Orhan Pamuk (born June 7, 1952 in Istanbul) is a Turkish novelist and professor of comparative literature at Columbia University. Pamuk is one of Turkey’s most prominent novelists and his work has sold over seven million books in more than fifty languages, making him the country’s best-selling writer. His fourth novel, New Life, became the fastest-selling book in Turkish history.  Pamuk’s novel Kar (English translation, Snow), explores the conflict between Islamism and Westernism in modern Turkey. The New York Times listed Snow as one of its Ten Best Books of 2004.  Pamuk is the recipient of numerous national and international literary awards. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2006, becoming the first Turkish person to receive a Nobel Prize.

Hidayet Türkoğlu, commonly referred to as Hedo Turkoglu (born March 19, 1979, in Istanbul, Turkey) is an NBA basketball player for the Orlando Magic. He stands 6 feet 10 inches tall and won the NBA’s Most Improved Player Award for the 2007-2008 NBA Season. Basketball is rapidly gaining popularity in Turkey. In fact, the Turkey national basketball team came in second in the European Basketball Championship in 2001 in Istanbul and in 2010 Istanbul will host the 2010 FIBA (International Basketball Federation) World Championship, which could introduce more Turks to the game.

Ahmet Ertegün (July 31,1923 - December 14, 2006) was the son of the Turkish Ambassador to the United States. He was born in Istanbul and moved to the United States where he became the co-founder and executive of Atlantic Records. He wrote and produced music, defined careers and changed lives. He is described as “one of the most significant figures in the modern recording industry.” By the mid 1950s, Atlantic had become the country’s preeminent R&B label producing hits by such artists as Ray Charles and the Drifters.  The “Atlantic Sound” — a boogie-based, sax-led band arrangement that became an integral part of rhythm and blues — grew into a phenomenon that swept across the nation and the world. In England, young musicians would buy records just because the Atlantic label was on the sleeve. They would grow up to become members of groups like the Rolling Stones, Cream, Led Zeppelin and Genesis.

In 1987, Ertegün was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, of which he himself was a founder. At age 83, he was injured after a fall at a Rolling Stones performance in New York in 2006 for the 60th birthday of former US President Bill Clinton Ertegün slipped and hit his head backstage. Although he was initially in stable condition, he soon took a turn for the worse, slipping into a coma later dying with his family by his side.

Interesting Facts:

Turkey sits directly on at least three active earthquake faults. Thirteen major quakes have rocked Turkey since 1939-the latest was a 7.4 magnitude whopper in 1999 which killed more than 18,000 people.  Istanbul straddles one of the most active seismic fault lines on the globe. A few miles away beneath the Marmara Sea, the North Anatolian fault line is stirring, and scientists are predicting a major rupture within the next few decades and say the question is not ‘if’, but ‘when?’

The secular country of Turkey was founded by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk who was an army officer, revolutionary statesman, and its first President. An admirer of the Enlightenment, Atatürk instituted wide-ranging and progressive political, economic, and social reforms, transforming Turkish society from perceiving itself as Muslim subjects of a vast Empire into citizens of a modern, democratic, and secular nation-state. Atatürk also wanted to solve the literacy problem. He created a Language Commission who developed a brand new Turkish alphabet using the Roman alphabet in 1928.

The American doughnut shop operator Krispy Kreme announced in 2008 that it will franchise about 25 outlets in Istanbul that will open in the next five years.

After living nearly three months in Turkey, one of my last weekends I was able to ‘do like the locals do’ and escape the oppressive heat of Istanbul for a lovely beach getaway. Bozcaada (pronounced Boze-jada) island is one of only two inhabited Turkish islands in the Aegean amidst a sea of Greek Isles. It is a dry, yellow-hued scrubby little island with nice little wine vineyards blanketing its sunny slopes. It has a charming cobblestoned main village that is filled with mostly locals and thankfully really isn’t a big stop on the tourist trail. My friends Ahmet and Cigdem (chee-dem) invited me to join them on the island for the weekend so I jumped at the chance to get out of the city for a couple of nights and have a small vacation. And, coincidentally, it was election weekend in Turkey so even the Turks that usually visit the island were headed back to their hometowns to exercise their right to vote making it even less crowded than normal. I took an overnight bus and left Istanbul’s huge bus station, Otogar, at the ungodly hour of 1am. Although the bus was plush and quite modern, it was still a slightly painful cramped seven hour ride especially for someone like me who has as much chance of sleeping in the sitting position as I do of sitting in the sleeping position. Chew on that for awhile.

The bus dropped me off at the ferry crossing at seven in the morning and thirty minutes later the ferry pulled up to Bozcaada where Ahmet and Cigdem picked me up after their morning swim. We drove to our tiny pension about a fifteen minute drive outside of the island’s main town. The Akvaryum Pansiyon (Aquarium Pension) is a cute blue and white six room affair that sits all by itself atop a hill overlooking the sparkling Aegean waters. What I thought might be an inconvenience actually turned out to be the best part—there was no electricity. Not that I even really use much—I don’t travel with a hair dryer or do much maintenance on this trip. The only things I really plug in are my cherished lap top and camera batteries. Oh, and my Turkish cell phone, which I will gladly be returning to its owner very soon. But for two days charging things wasn’t really necessary. And since the steamy hot days gave way to breezy cool, if not downright chilly, nights there was no need for a/c. Each simple tiny room was full of tea lights and candles and the grounds were staked with an assortment of tiki torches and lanterns. It couldn’t have been more idyllic and romantic. Just a ten minute walk through down a narrow dirt path through the brush was the secluded Akvariyum Beach with a few umbrellas and lounge chairs. We spent the day lazing around, going back to town to grab a bite at a cute café, justifiably called “Lisa’s,” and doing some swimming in the wonderfully clean, but icily cold sea.

On my second morning there I met a cute Dutch couple staying at our tiny little pension. Eilian and Vibeke were the kind of couple who, at least from the outside, looked perfect together. They both had sandy blond hair, sun-kissed skin, and kind of oozed a natural laid-back sexiness that was appealing. They were joined by a Turkish friend of theirs and invited me to tag along with them past the secluded beach and out to some rocks at an even more secluded spot. This was the stuff islands dreams are made of. We had our own private spot with just enough smooth rocks to lay out on. And when you got too hot, you could slowly shock your body into the super frigid water by easing yourself in or take the more ‘rip the band-aid-right-off’ approach to the cold and just hurl yourself into the sea by diving straight in. I preferred the latter. We hung out all day—snorkeling in the clear blue Aegean, sunning, chatting, munching on fruit, bread, and cheese and perfecting our dives. It was perfect. After about six hours in the sun our totally ‘hidden’ secret beach was overtaken by locals who apparently knew how to walk there too (guess it wasn’t that ‘secret’ after all). We packed up our stuff and headed back home. When I say I’ve met cool people on my trip, I don’t mean we like the same music or movies or can get drunk together. I love to laugh and have fun, but I’m also not a 22-year-old backpacker looking for a ‘non-stop party’ spending my world tour inside the world’s bars and nightclubs trolling for hot guys like other travelers I’ve met along the way. Of course, if that’s what you love to do…more power to ya…it’s just not me. I’m talking more about a vibe or a general life attitude. They are open to the world and meeting new people. They are fun, but worldly and mature at the same time. We can sit around all day and talk about life…or just about the beautiful island we are so lucky to be enjoying. These were cool people.

That night Ahmet, Cigdem, and I grabbed a bottle of wine and headed out to watch the sunset at the far western tip of the island. We had asked the pension owner, Deniz, a blue-eyed, stocky Turk, which was the best beach to hit for the sun. I invited my new Dutch friends along and Eilian also gave his two cents about how to get to this ‘perfect beach’ to watch the sunset.

“Okay. You’ll drive down the main road out of town until you see some goats,” he said pointing to the map. “Turn left at the goats and you’ll get to the beach.”

“Uh-huh. So these goats are always there? They are never on the move?” I asked laughing.

You know you are off the beaten tourist trail when the directional landmarks are farm animals. We, of course, passed several groups of goats on the way not knowing which ones were ‘our’ goats. So we ended up driving down a dirt road flanked on both sides by tremendous whirring wind turbines. This installation of seventeen giant windmills was Bozcaada’s wind farm which provides more than enough power for the entire island (minus our hotel of course). The excess power is actually sent to the mainland via an underwater cable. I was mesmerized by the ominous sleek towering machines and their gentle constant humming. We found a spot to plunk down in the sand and as the giant red sun melted into the sea we toasted to new friends and my continued healthy and happy travels. Serefe (cheers).

“Meanwhile, back at the ranch…” Our pension was the only building anywhere for a few kilometers…and because it was “unplugged”, there were absolutely no lights around to drown out the night sky. I have never seen so many stars in all my life. It was spectacular. I think the only other time ever seen anything similar was at the Planetarium our dad used to take us to back at Morris County College. We saw shooting starts, constellations, satellites, the white cloudy band of the Milky Way galaxy—something I remember being able to see as a kid back in Randolph NJ, but sadly can never find amidst the bright lights of Chicago. On Bozcaada we spent each night sitting out in the yard just gazing up at the sky. I loved it. I was awe. There is something about seeing the universe above you to remind you just how small we are, and just how beautiful life is.

An obvious bonus of staying put in one place for a long time is discovering ‘real’ Istanbul and its neighborhoods where people live, work, and play. The Lonely Planet guide book goes about as far as Taksim Square—the busy town center, so to speak, of Istanbul. It is here where the broad cobblestone-lined pedestrian drag, Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Street), begins, or ends, depending on which way you are walking. It is flanked on both sides by clothing shops, the ubiquitous Starbucks, kebab and kofte (yummy Turkish meatball) eateries, and bookstores. Beautiful French inspired early twentieth century buildings tower overhead and an old fashioned narrow trolley trundles up the hill for those not willing to do the popular stroll. And just a ten minute walk down the hill behind Istiklal, toward the Bosphorus Strait, is my current neighborhood, Cihangir. It is a former Bohemian enclave currently full of expats and artists turned yuppies and hipsters. Nearly everything you need is right here. There is a small produce stand selling plump fresh cherries, apricots, and veggies on every corner. There are grocery stores, bars, cafes, a gym, and an odd plethora of pharmacies. Sounds permeate the air harkening back to an old European village:

“Hot Simit (a kind of Turkish sesame seed ‘bagel’)!! Fresh, hot Simit!!”

“Junkman!! I can take away all your nasty junk!!!”

“Waterman!! I will bring big bottles of spring water right to your apartment!!”

One of my favorite sounds is, strangely enough, the gas man. When I first heard the sweet tunes tinkling out of his truck as he drove around the ‘hood, I thought it had to be an ice cream truck: “Aygaz…get your sweet delicious Aygaz!”

The third floor apartment I’m staying in while I cat sit for “Oscar” and “Wilde,” aka “the OWs,” is ginormous (by the way, this stupid word has been recently added to the dictionary). It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms and huge living room. The back has a balcony overlooking a beautiful stand of tall, leafy trees full of cackling seagulls and feral cats in heat. The one problem? They don’t seem to believe in screens here in Istanbul, so I would say I got more mosquito bites inside this apartment than I have on most of my trip. Unfortunately, because of the summer heat, I had to keep the windows open especially at night while I slept. Well, this was just an open invitation to all the stinging insects to come suck some of my blood. Just as I would drift off to a serene sleep, a high-pitched mosquito buzzing around my hear would jolt be into a total state of itchy awakeness. I’d often wake up with new bites on my hands, feet, and even face. The ‘plug-in’ mosquito repellent devices Brigid had did not seem to be working all that much. Some nights I literally had to spray on some repellent just to get more of a sound sleep. There’s nothing like going to bed with the lovely smell of “off” to give you that camping feeling.

I live on a side street right around the corner from several trendy cafes with tables spilling onto the sidewalks in classic European fashion where locals sip on drinks, tap away at their laptops (including me), and just about everyone puffs away on a cigarette. The most popular café is Leyla’s, an ultra trendy spot that could be in New York or London. Café Smyrna’s atmosphere seems a bit more relaxed, although two nights in a row, paparazzi were staked outside with three television cameras waiting for a shot of a few local celebs. I’m actually writing this from one of the cafes right now. Kahvedan is owned by a gal from San Francisco and is a breezy comfortable place to hang out and have a latte or nice bite of something off their international menu of samosas, pad thai, and ceviche—not the norms in the very homogenized Turkish food scene. I love a good doner (spinning roasted meat) sandwich every now and again, but Turkey isn’t the most ‘international’ as far as cuisine goes, although this is slowly changing. Even though it is speeding along into the twenty-first century like the rest of the world, in many ways, Turkey is still proud of its strong roots and not entirely embracing the Western world. Although it is 99% Muslim, you would never really know this by looking, contrary to popular belief. What I mean by this is the US is about 80% Christian, but you also can’t see this just by looking. Here they are Muslim by name, but many are not religious or not practicing. There is a wrong assumption by many that Turkey is an Arabic country. In fact it is quite the opposite; Turks are fiercely defensive of their secular state which was founded by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, a general in the Turkish Army from World War I. His Turkish state is based on Western principles of government and is said to be, in theory at least, modern, democratic and provides a definite separation of church and state. Western Turkey, especially Istanbul, looks like any European city. But what is different is how homogenously Turkish it is. And by that I mean it is not exactly the melting pot of Chicago, New York, or London. Maybe there are a few Bulgarians, Kurds, and expats sprinkled around, but by and large, Turkey is full of young Turks and they are very proud to be Turkish. Here there is little need for the English language or American products. Turkey has a huge manufacturing sector so they manufacture many of their own goods. In fact, many clothes we wear back in the states are made right here. There are no H&M, Gap, or Banana Republic stores here yet (they are coming next year), but a lot of their clothes are actually made here cheaply and exported to the states. So, there are some ‘irregulars’ floating around outlets, markets, and the black market. In every country I have a habit of checking out the grocery store. In Istanbul’s supermarkets my point is quite evident. Among aisles and aisles of mostly Turkish products the only American names I’ve come across are Pepperidge Farm Cookies, Tabasco, Miller Genuine Draft, and Budweiser. I think for some expats that may be all they need. But I have to admit I occasionally have a hankering for some nice comfy, all chemical Kraft Mac and Cheese every now and again.

In this hip ‘hood sushi is just catching on. There are only a few sushi bars around and each savory raw morsel is priced like a rare gem. I desperately needed a sushi fix so I stopped into Tokyo, a slick, contemporary, minimalist Japanese restaurant like any you’d find on nearly every corner in Chicago except here simple maki costs fifteen dollars. That’s a little steep. On the flip side, the drugs here are cheap…and easy to come by. No, not those drugs…prescription drugs. Many pills that we pop in the states can only be had after commandeering a prescription from our “primary care provider” or first getting a referral from our “primary doc” to then go see a specialist who then may give us the prescription we need. Here no prescription is necessary. Simply walk into any Eczane (drug store) and get what you need…and get it cheap. I can get a year supply of some pills I need for $8! At home this would cost me about $100. Hmmm, this gives me a business idea…but probably an illegal one.

Another cool area of Istanbul not really detailed in the guide book is what’s known as the Bosphorus villages. Along the water, several beautiful and quite affluent neighborhoods overlook the water from expensive apartments, white gleaming trendy cafes, and some glitzy nightclubs. I met a guy from Spain who was living in my neighborhood and working here for Nortel. He invited me along to join him and his friends one night at the fancy schmancy Sortie Club. High along the edge of the Bosphorus in an area called Ortakoy are about a dozen swanky outdoor clubs, one after the other, that are pricey, slick and give off an air of elitism with their velvet ropes and beefy security guards blocking the entry. This is the place to see and be seen. Here you can fork over about $100 a person for some ravioli and a few drinks. It was a bit phony and plastic and reminded me a bit of some of Chicago’s Gold Coast clubs, but there was no denying the gorgeously captivating moonlit views of the water. The setting was quite marvelous with white leather couches, dimmed paper lanterns, and the undisputable beauty of the mighty Bosphorus Bridge lit up like a Christmas tree with its own kind of light show, with all its, and the city’s, lights reflecting in the sparkling waters of the strait. So if you take a trip to Istanbul, of course go see the touristy areas and old quarter—it is beautiful, but then be sure to check out some of these ‘off the beaten tourist trail’ spots and see where the real hip Turks are hanging out.

In Turkish, the words for ‘thank you’ are ‘tesekkur ederim,’ pronounced tesh-e-koor eh-dare-em and a way to remember it is to say ‘tea, sugar, a dream.’ I just wanted to break out of the ‘writing mode’ for a second to thank everyone for their thoughtful responses to my last post. I was very touched by all the wonderful and heartfelt comments I received—some from old friends from ‘way back when’ and others from brand new friends that I’ve met recently during my travels. It is so amazing to me to be so far away and yet so many friends drop what they are doing to send me an email to give me heartfelt advice. It brightened my spirits tremendously. The most common thing I heard was how many were surprised that I hadn’t had these ‘reflective moments’ sooner. I think I have here and there, but not this intensely simply because I’ve had a lot of time in Istanbul to get lost in my own brain—a sometimes scary, scary place! I am trying to NOT worry about ‘what I will do when I get home…or the rest of my life’ now. It’s not always easy, but I do want to live in the moment and that is what I should be doing. I have really enjoyed the trip and have found myself smiling while I tell others about it—so I know it’s been amazing.

Instead of going for a “Visa Run” after my three month tourist visa expires, I will most likely say goodbye to Turkey and head north to parts of Eastern Europe. I do like Turkey and could easily stay here…but there are more places I want to see to feel like I’ve “completed” my journey. I have stayed here longer than anywhere else I’ve stayed on my entire trip and I really do like Istanbul. It is chock full of some of the friendliest, most helpful people I’ve met anywhere in the world. And I will probably be in tears the first few days after I leave Istanbul too… because I have really made a nice circle of good, kind friends here—who even dragged my ass out during my ‘down in the dumps’ day and made me feel better too. It’s great to always have friends ‘around me’ physically and from back home as well, even this far away!

Tea, sugar, a dream.

I have been in Istanbul for more than two months now. As I teach English and wait for other jobs to materialize I can’t help but wonder, should I stay or should I go? It is that hard balance of world travel that I have become increasingly accustomed to. Many times I find myself caught between trying to become more ‘local’ by sitting put in one place or simply being a fly-by-night ‘tourist’ seeing all I can even if it means never truly getting a real sense of the people and the culture because of the constant urge to just ‘keep on moving.’ Somewhere lurking in the air around me is this gravitational pull, the slight tug of travel putting its grips on me and egging me to move on and go forth and plunder. Well, probably not plunder as much as wander.

It is hard for me to dissect this. Sometimes I feel it doesn’t matter if I move on quickly or not because money-wise either way I’m paying to sleep somewhere whether it’s in Istanbul or Budapest or Chicago. But Istanbul is really not a cheap city, relative to others I’ve been in. I feel like as I journey westward, I will certainly be spending more each day to ‘live.’ I long for the days in Costa Rica when I paid $5 a night for a single room with my own bathroom. I guess I could live the rest of my life at “Gringo Pete’s” in Arenal and just retire there, but I know I’d grow bored and the same inevitable pull of travel would always be getting in the way of my retirement.

With the extra time on my hands here, I often have time to reflect back on my journey and look forward to the journey continuing. Sometimes too much thinking, or in my ‘Virgo’ case, analyzing, makes me feel a little down (what do they say? “Idle hands are the devil’s playground…”). While I’m traveling and taking ‘a year off,’ it really isn’t exactly a ‘year off’ as life keeps chugging forward like a high speed bullet train. Things are happening to me here and I’m meeting people and at the same time things are happening back home to my friends and loved ones. My ex-boyfriend has moved on (to someone twenty years his junior in classic rebound/mid life form. I guess he’s no longer pining away for me and waiting for my return with outstretched arms); I now miss someone I’ve met along the way whom I developed a bit of a relationship with; I was stressed out because my storage unit in my Chicago condo was broken into and I really have no idea what was stolen; I am sad about one of my very best friends not being in Chicago anymore (she’s recently moved back to Germany) when I return; And sometimes, when I unfortunately have too much time to ‘over think’ things, I’m a bit perplexed about what I am REALLY doing with my life after all this?? I know what you are thinking: ‘poor, poor you. Boo-hoo, Lisa, you are living your dream, traveling around the world.’ But I guess even a year away has to have its ‘down in the dumps’ moments.

Sometimes part of me does not want to be here in Turkey or Vietnam or a beach Australia, but in a tranquil leafy suburb with big, old colonial homes like those in New Jersey, Connecticut, or Chicago (Hi, Evanston), with beautiful breezy Oak and Maple trees, where the only sounds you hear are birds chirping and wind rustling the leaves that dapple the sunlight onto the lush lawns of green grass that feel cool on your toes on a summer afternoon. Perhaps it is a bit of ‘the grass is always greener’ syndrome. Well, the grass is greener in Evanston, but that’s because they can afford to spend lots of money each year on fertilizer. But that’s neither here nor there. I’m okay. I know this little funk will pass. It’s part of normal life whether I’m in Chicago or Turkey. In fact, I KNOW I’d have more stress and ‘real life’ problems if I were in Chicago right now. I should be feeling lucky, but sometimes it’s just not possible to do that 100% of the time. Like they say, “wherever you go, there you are.”

So, how long will I stay here? Why am I here? I like it, but don’t love it exactly. I’ve heard others say, ‘you love it and hate it at the same time.’ I just saw it was easy to get work and figured why not hang out, make some lire, and see what happens. But I just get confused sometimes. Part of me wants to ‘keep on moving.” I’ve become accustomed to a certain momentum on my trip as I slowly drift around the world from one place to the next. I sometimes feel like I’m living in a strange dream. Like right now, here I am living in someone else’s apartment in Istanbul. It’s a strange feeling and I don’t feel ‘at home’ exactly, but I guess I will continue to go with the flow and see where it takes me.

During my very first few days in Istanbul, it seemed that everyone I met could ‘help’ me in some way. Need a job? Need a place to stay? Need a carpet? Everyone offered up their assistance and if they couldn’t help, they had someone they would and did introduce me to. I heard that nearly 80% of Turks genuinely say they want to help you and then maybe about 20% of those actually do help you in some way. But, if nothing else, they will certainly sit down to share some Turkish tea with you. In my few weeks here, many opportunities seemed to materialize out of thin air and since this city isn’t cheap, I spontaneously decided it was time to ‘get local’ again, find myself some work, and become a temporary Istanbulite.

I’ve learned that word-of-mouth goes a long way here and Turkish life seems like a big game of “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” (by the way, I used to be just one degree—I met him and interviewed him at my former ABC job and now I’m two degrees because he lives in my friend Mark’s apartment complex in LA, which means you, dear reader, are now just three degrees from the “Footloose” king). Everyone knows someone who, if they can’t help you, ultimately introduces you to someone who can. It seems everything in Turkey is about relationships and who you know. While Americans like a ‘let’s get down to business’ attitude, me included, Turks want to take time to really get to know you as a person and develop a more personal connection. And they certainly aren’t shy about asking you the questions that, in America, would be downright rude. “How old are you? How much do you weigh? Can you send a picture with your resume?”

One of my very first nights in the touristy yet charming Sultanahmet, the old part of the city, I met a skinny, chain smoking, cute restaurant host with big brown eyes named Yusuf. Like many other Kurds from Eastern Turkey (near the Iran and Iraq borders), he had come to Istanbul for a better life and better work. He was one of the few restaurant touts that let me actually ‘read’ the menu outside his restaurant instead of talking to me endlessly about what kind of food they serve which ultimately would cause me to walk away because I never got a chance to actually read the menu in the first place. So I liked him already and ate at his place simply because of his ‘non-pestering’ ways. We chatted briefly on my way out and I mentioned maybe looking for work here. He immediately grabbed his mobile and called Steve, a New Yorker, who’s lived in Istanbul for about three years teaching English. An hour later I was sitting down for a cold Efes beer with Steve and Yusuf at a local bar just across the street. Steve has several private students and teaches at Istanbul University. He seems pretty entrenched in Istanbul life—even if his “home” is actually a hotel. Steve was an easy going, soft spoken (for a New Yorker) middle-aged guy who enunciated every word and spoke slower than most Americans I know—probably a result of his day job. Like many I’ve met, he came for a short time and has simply never left. Istanbul seems to have that affect on people. Steve thought that with my background and TV experience I would have no trouble getting work here. English teachers, especially those from American and Canada, are highly regarded here—Steve is like a local celebrity in a way, and I can see why he hasn’t left. Since then we have become friends and he’s graciously passed my resume along and in the last several weeks has introduced me to several people who could possibly help me or hire me. And through these people, I met other people and from there I seemed to have a new network of friends in just a few weeks. And as the old Breck commercial goes: and then ‘they told two friends, and so on, and so on:”

Yusuf–>Steve:

–>Neville—A funny, loveable Brit who owns and runs the school, ESP—English for Special Purposes. He is kind of a thinner, much more British Drew Carey complete with glasses and buzz cut. He moved here six years ago, married a Turkish gal, and is ‘this close’ to becoming a bonafide Turkish citizen except for the fact that the government wants him to change his last name. It has a “W” in it, a letter that is not in the Turkish alphabet, therefore it is not ‘recognized’ by the Turkish Government. Of course, Neville sarcastically countered this with, ‘Okay, so I can change my name to Brad Pitt?’ and apparently that would be fine because all the letters are recognized. So while Mr. Pitt tries to find me work, he has hooked me up with:

–>Brigid–a hilarious, new-agey, spitfire Irish lass who has lived here more than 10 years. She has a huge sun-filled flat in the trendy Cihangir neighborhood full of café-lined streets where she lives with her two cats. I now live in this apartment with her two cats. She went away to Costa Rica for a month for an English teacher training course and needed a cool, world traveler/cat sitter/squatter to live here and watch her kitties while she is away. So, at least for now, I am a regular resident of Istanbul, living in my own apartment, cooking my own meals, and cleaning my own (well, the cats) shit box.

–>Mahmut—This president of an automotive company is a former student of Brigid’s. He was looking for a new English tutor. So I am now working with him on his business English twice a week. He is also building a brand new mansion on the Bosphorus and wants me to be a kind of consultant to help him decorate his new swanky pad. So now I’m a TV Producer/Cat-sitter/English teacher/Interior Designer. Apparently there’s nothing I can’t do…at least in Turkey. Oh, and he wants one of our appointments to be for dinner once a week. So now, I’m a bit of an escort as well. Note to self: get new business cards.

–>Osmantan—This sunglasses wearing Turkish celeb with a permanent two day stubble produces and hosts Popstar AlaTurka, the Turkish version of American Idol. He is part owner of STR productions which also produced the Turkish version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I sat down with him to chat about ways we could work together…or ways I could cat sit for him. He also said I could perhaps be a consultant or go-between with some of the English speaking networks and production companies that he buys formats from. He gave me the email address of:

–>Dave Reid—The American General Manager of Turkey’s newest network, FOX-TV. We are set to meet sometime this week. He doesn’t speak Turkish either which I find quite odd considering he is running a network that is completely programmed in Turkish. So I thought maybe he needs some kind of assistant, which also speaks no Turkish, with whom he could at least share his frustration.

–>Cigdem & Ahmet—Ahmet was a former English student of Steve and a TV Promo writer. They are a warm and wonderful couple who have had me over to their modern and bright flat overlooking the Bosphorus several times. Ahmet had recently gotten in an accident while riding his motorcycle that broke his left leg. Then just after healing he was unbelievably struck by another motorcycle while crossing the street in his own neighborhood. Incredibly, both his arms were broken, as well as his left leg again. He is slowly on the mend, but spends most of Turkey’s beautiful summer cooped up in their apartment unable to walk. His spirits are amazingly high and I’ve had many fun times with them.

–>Digiturk—Ahmet is a freelance writer for this ‘DirecTV-like’ Satellite Network in Turkey. I interviewed with the Promotions Director, Cenk, and got a tour of their surprisingly up-to-date HD, Digital facility. Seeing master control, the graphics department, and editing suites full of warm, humming AVIDS actually had me a bit nostalgic for TV and its similarities worldwide.

–>John: I cold-called this American newspaper editor on my own (although also a recommendation of ‘Super Steve’). Since I was quite unfamiliar with news in Turkey, I at least thought I could be a proofreader/copy-editor for the English language Turkish Daily News. I met this throw back to Edward Morrow in a café. He was like a newsman from the 1940s—chain smoking, bitter, affected. It was a very surreal meeting. He spoke ‘at’ me through a veil of cigarette smoke and mumbled words. He rarely made eye contact instead gazing off into the distance with a half cocked head exhaling his whole career story for thirty minutes after I asked him the obligatory question of how he ended up in Istanbul. He had a pompous negative air about him telling his story here with a strange sense of nonchalant arrogance like he was above it all…He even told me about something he was trying to put into affect at the paper called the ‘Strategic Incompetence Strategy.’ It was some cruel tactic of eventually getting rid of employees in some long, torturous method. Needless to say, he didn’t have any work for me, but it was the lowest paying job of any other I had looked into. Basically the work was 6 days a week, 8 hours a day…and ended up being about $5/hour. I think this is less than working at McDonald’s and after meeting this man, I would much rather serve up McKebabs. So I had a news flash for him, ‘Goodnight…and good luck.’ But he did introduce me to:

–>Nuri Colakoglu/Vice President, Dogan Group: The Dogan Group is the largest media conglomerate in all of Turkey. They own many TV stations including CNN Turk, (CNN Turk is the first international channel to broadcast with the CNN logo 24 hours a day in a foreign language, which is also produced outside CNN’s Atlanta headquarters) several newspapers, and other companies in tourism, energy, and insurance. He is on the board of nearly every big project going on in Turkey. This was basically like Michael Eisner calling me. Before he even met me, he’d hired me to proofread a presentation he was giving to land the World Expo of 2015 in Turkey. This was big stuff. I loved this project as they emailed it to me and after proofreading several pages, in a few hours, I would make several hundred Lire. Nice gig. When we finally met, he handed me an envelope of cash (always nice on a first meeting) and we discussed what other ways I could help him. He was one of those people with only one working eye…so I tried my hardest not to try to catch the gaze of the straying left one which was always ‘out of alignment’ looking off somewhere else. This man was very important. He’d just returned from a business trip to San Francisco, Paris, and Venice. Maybe I could just be his travel aide. That would be nice. He is trying to find a niche for me and in the meantime introduced me to:

–>Mehmet Ali Birand—This man is seriously like the Tom Brokaw of Turkish TV News. When I mentioned his name to others, they were amazed that I was meeting him. Of course I had no idea who he was and found it quite difficult to even do research on him given the fact that most websites about him were in Turkish. We met at a hotel and our meeting basically took place in his car along with his driver and a smiling, quiet, yet hulking bodyguard-type goon who I shared the back seat with. Sadly, I was not frisked. We went for coffee and he dialed away on his mobile asking his many connections if the assistance of an English speaking producer was needed. Elections will be going on here at the end of the month and it will be big news so I’m hoping to be some sort of foreign press coordinator.

–>Tahir: One rainy afternoon I was doing a little less than nothing …and then I met up with this hotel manager across the street from my old hotel who was nice to me last time I was here. He proceeded to call this Canadian girl who teaches English here…we met her for coffee to talk about jobs for me …she gave me some advice but didn’t have anything concrete. Suddenly her cell rang and this woman from a school that teaches business English to executives was calling. She needed a teacher right away. Canadian girl couldn’t do it so she handed her phone right to me…I had an interview with them the very next day. Right place, right time I guess. Through this company, I have since started tutoring a marketing manager at one of Turkey’s largest shipping companies.

–>Plus One Productions—Ilker. I met this gaunt, balding Producer/Director literally on the roof of my hotel. He was perched on the roof next door doing a shoot. I ran over and struck up a conversation with him. He actually owns his own production company and we’ve since met for a beer to see how we can possibly work together on some projects. He also offered up his apartment to me after my cat sitting stint ends here.

–>Telesine Productions–I met a producer here through another friend of Steve’s. They work on films, commercials, and some television.

After all of this, plus some interviews too boring to mention, my head was spinning and I had nothing too much really to speak of. I’d spent a lot of money schlepping all over Istanbul, from the tram to the funicular to the metro, to taxis (this city is well known for its limited, crowded, and often smelly public transportation system), for these various interviews, not to mention on a nice new pair of pants (trousers for the Brits!) and a few smart tops—the backpacker attire just wouldn’t have made the best impression. After many exhausting weeks of running around, a few things started to fall into place. I had four students taking private English lessons and had met a dozen or so TV big wigs who at least had my name in case they needed me. I also literally had about five offers to share housing in exchange for some English conversation each day.

So, here I am in this ‘referral city’ where there seem to be no dead ends which is making it harder to just up and leave. I’m still going on interviews and have more next week. My fifteen years of television experience goes quite far here, the only problem? I don’t speak Turkish which is quite an obstacle considering all of the programming here is, oddly enough, in Turkish. In the meantime, I’m doing a few private English lessons each week. English teachers are highly regarded here and are compensated nicely. As this nation grows into its own identity and goes more global, English is seen as an important tool in this progress.

One sad note… I had to do something I’d avoided my whole trip until now. I caved in and got a much despised mobile phone. Turks live and die by their mobile phones—everyone has one and everyone wants to know your number. Especially when trying to make new contacts here it is just down right mandatory. In fact, when I told a few business folks that I did not have one–I think they looked at me like I was missing an arm or something. But in Turkish friendly style…this was easier than I thought. Another wonderful new friend of mine, Murat, a carpet shop owner (they are not all scammers), I met while in Sultanahmet, basically just lent me his mobile. It turns out he had just got a new one, but wanted to keep his old one for sentimental reasons. He had recently been ‘forced’ to serve his mandatory fifteen month term in the huge Turkish army, something he’d avoided and dreaded, especially as a Kurd, for years. His cell was somewhat of a security blanket as he was away so he was keeping it as a bittersweet memento from his time in the armed forces.

Just today I realized I had already programmed 20 names into my new phone’s address book. These are 20 new friends in Istanbul in just a few weeks. That seems pretty incredible to me. I now see how it is easy to get sucked into living here…the kind and generous Turks certainly don’t make it easy for you to leave.
Damn it—I’m officially living here, for now. Can you hear me now?

Sponsors? I wish I had sponsors. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Okay, I’ve been gone almost nine months now and it’s time for a barometer check. Many have been asking questions and I guess it’s high time I had some answers.

1. What have your favorite places been so far?

Thank god the question is plural because there have been so many and each is unique in its own special way. I find it hard to narrow down, but here goes:

• The Galapagos Islands off Ecuador—beautiful and magical, unspoiled nature and animals
• Buenos Aires, Argentina—an amazingly affordable cosmopolitan city full of a sexy energy and a hip vibe
• Melbourne, Australia—reminded me a lot of Chicago—cool, down to earth neighborhoods, diverse food, city events for everyone, and bike lanes on nearly every street
• Hong Kong—a huge, bright city full of life where old and new collide
• Halong Bay and Sa Pa, Vietnam—mystical, peaceful bays and mountains from another era
• Singapore—a modern, anally clean, (of course I’d like that!) crossroads of cultures
• Turkey—beautiful landscapes and amazingly friendly and helpful people

2. How much longer will you travel?

Forever! Well, I wish I could…and I’m still working out the nasty little logistics of how I can truly make that possible. But in the meantime, while I don’t have a definite answer, I am hoping to extend this trip to become longer than first planned. Originally I told people I’d be traveling for one year, mostly because it was just a very nice round number and easier to estimate then saying, ‘oh, 15 months’ or something random like that. But now that I am “out here” in the world, it just seems so much easier to keep going than to come home and try to get away again. Why not just keep going now that all my stuff is packed away in storage anyway? We’ll see.

3. Are you homesick? Are you ready to come home?

No. And no. Seriously, there are times when I am down or low, for a whole year—it’s nearly impossible to be jazzed every minute of everyday. I have some sad or lonely moments, but I do have to say they don’t last long. I really find it quite easy to make friends when traveling alone…just look at this photo album of some of the amazing folks I’ve met.

I definitely feel much less stress than I had felt at home with a job and a million things to always ‘worry’ about and obsess over. Now I know, in the grand scheme of things, none of that really matters.

4. What do you miss?

I miss some of my good friends and family. But at the same time, these friends have been with me throughout the entire trip thanks to the internet and its amazing technology and websites and services like Skype, Yahoo Mail, Facebook, Flickr, Feedburner, and my blog’s home at Word Press. Through my laptop, my friends are still cheering me on, encouraging me, giving me blog feedback, and just still ‘being there’ just like they would if I was home and in some ways even more so. And that’s how I know they are good. You know who you are—I love you and thank you!

I miss the city of Chicago. No matter where I go, I am still lucky to call it home and I truly do love it. It’s my adopted home and I have been singing its praises all over the world, encouraging everyone I meet to visit it one day. I think the Chicago Tourism office needs to hire me as an ambassador.

With a very limited number of outfits, I love the idea that I don’t have to really worry about what to wear each day, but I certainly miss having some more clothes to choose from than just the same old threadbare t-shirts, stretched out tank tops, and fading cargo pants.

As the months tick by, I guess you could say I miss having an income, because I’m scared of facing the fact that my funds are dwindling. Now see #5:

5. How much money have you spent?

In eight months, I have figured out that I have spent roughly $25,000. This includes everything—airfare, other transportation, food, lodging, and all my other random expenses. I have been in some countries in Southeast Asia and South American that allowed me to stretch my budget and then, on the flip side, places like Australia, Dubai, and now, as I enter Europe, have been rather expensive and make it harder to cut corners, etc. But, then again I got a job in Australia and am now doing some English tutoring in Istanbul so I am trying to combat the higher prices by at least breaking even. If I had remained in Chicago, where the overall cost of living is high, I would have definitely spent more than $25,000 in eight months on my mortgage, condo upkeep, car, bills, food, entertainment, and general runs to Target that always add up. On the road, I realize I don’t have to buy things like toilet paper, but do have to eat out more than I would at home. Although in many hostels and some hotels where I had a fridge I was able to eat some meals at ‘home.’

6. What will you do when you get home?

That’s the toughest question of all. And as the months tick by, unfortunately I find myself worrying about it more and more. I have gotten tons of great feedback on this blog and have started the dreaded process of looking for a literary agent and publisher for my travel book. I still have tons of interests…it’s narrowing them down that is the problem. Television Production? Open a sandwich shop/café? Real Estate? “Green” eco-store? Travel Writer? Get Masters in Urban Planning or International Business? Photographer? Or maybe I will just stay ‘retired??’ Who knows what will happen with any of that. I can always do some freelance TV Production and writing. What I do know is that after stopping by Chicago to visit with friends and try the latest restaurants, I will be going to LA to hang out at my friend, Mark’s apartment. I will lay at his pool where I can decompress and readjust to life, USA-style. I guess LA couldn’t be more ‘in your face’ USA…and with my new work experience from my days at the Australia café, I may just be qualified to work at ‘the big S’—Starbucks. Maybe.

7. Have you dated any men?

Yep.

My new hotel in Istanbul, the Alp Guesthouse , was a small and wonderfully charming place in this city of more than 12 million. In fact, urban sprawl has created an Istanbul larger in area than the state of Rhode Island and a bigger population that all of Greece or Belgium. In my hotel, there are just fourteen, newly refurbished rooms in a small Ottoman-style wood paneled four-story house (almost similar to some American colonial wood houses). It sits on a side street in Sultanahmet, the old quarter of Istanbul between the Blue Mosque and the mighty Bosphorus Strait that connects the Black Sea to the Marmara Sea and eventually, the Mediterranean. My room was a calm oasis with a queen canopy bed with white fluffy sheets, dark wood floors and trim, and a newly marble tiled bathroom. It had a lovely large window overlooking the ‘backyard’ with all the delights of spring–green leafy trees full of chirping birds set against an almost constantly deep blue sky. Just beyond the trees was a reminder of the city I was in–an old brick mosque, small in comparison to others around the city, topped with a tall stone minaret tower that bellowed with the calls to prayer five times a day. It was lovely to look at, but the loud operatic chants at 4:45am were quite the alarming wake-up call that certainly had me jumping from bed enough to ‘pray’ they would stop.

Murat was the soft-spoken hotel owner. In the three weeks I was there I think we spoke a total of five minutes to each other. He only had two other guys that worked the front desk—Eren and Mustafa. Eren was a tall, dark, good looking younger guy who seemed to be book smart, but acted pretty immature. He would greet me daily with a kind of boyish pout, wondering why I wasn’t ‘hanging out’ with him more. He wanted to take me to dinner and, although I didn’t really like him all that much, I said I would go, but was quite frank in saying it would just be ‘as friends.’ I wanted to be super clear since guys here seem to think all foreign women jump into bed after one glass of wine. He always responded to my honesty with “oh, come on Lisa,” accompanied with more pouting and loud exhaling, as if my answer to his advances must be wrong and I was just toying with him. He was harmless so it was all just mildly entertaining until he started ‘petting’ me one day. I guess he figured even though I had already said I wasn’t interested that if he stroked my arm…I would be put under some magic spell or something. No such luck for him and of course I had to yell at him to “stop touching me!” Mustafa worked the ‘other’ shift every day from 8pm to 8am. He literally slept in the lobby once all the guests were tucked in for the night. He was quite the opposite of Eren—more mature and determined to improve his English for his future business success. He was working here strictly to get experience and to meet people from all over the world and talk with them. One day he took me sightseeing around town in exchange for my English. He just wanted me for my mother tongue—not my actual tongue—that was a nice change from most guys around these parts. He was a pretty sharp guy who also owned a retail clothing business. He has hopes of owning his own hotel one day…and I think he will. I also got to know some other guests from America, Brazil, & France as they visited and moved on, as well as some of the neighboring hotel owners and workers. I stayed at this hotel for nearly three weeks…so it became a bit like ‘home’ and this was my family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

Just like all the hotels around the old quarter, the Alp Hotel has a lovely rooftop terrace with glass-topped tables, umbrellas, and cushioned wicker chairs where a lovely Turkish breakfast was served every morning. The unblocked views of the other rooftops and the Bosphorus, just a kilometer or so away, were nearly breathtaking. I even “borrowed” the facilities in the kitchen up there one day to cook dinner for Eren and Mustafa and some other guests. I opened a bottle of red and whipped up some salad and pasta with olive oil, garlic, eggplant, and tomatoes. But I really loved my quiet mornings up there, (well, late mornings—I would typically sleep in, roll out of bed around 10am and get up to the roof just in time to grab the last scraps of food and avoid the earlier riser’s chatter) sipping my coffee, nibbling on toast with Feta cheese, watching the sea gulls and crows fight over any food morsels and bread bits that they scavenged from other terraces. I would let the sun warm my arms as I read my book and would look up occasionally to the sea to watch the huge, almost ominous-looking freighter ships ply the gray waters. One day, I watched a man on an adjacent rooftop fly a blue and white kite in the winds coming off the sea. I have always seen people in parks flying kites back home and wondered ‘what’s the point?’ It seemed you could only amuse yourself flying a kite for maybe ten minutes, max. But now, in my relaxed state, the kite looked so pretty darting and soaring against the bright blue sky of Istanbul. Small things are starting to mean a lot more when I am not so preoccupied with the crazy ‘real world’ B.S. that usually gets in the way of really enjoying the simple beauty of life around us. Very rarely in my adult life have I allowed myself to do nothing. I’ve always kept myself super busy with work, friends, exercising, volunteering, tennis lessons, guitar class, teaching…and just about anything I could do to enrich myself and also at the same time to avoid that horrible state of boredom I so loathe. Even during my trip, I have either kept myself busy sightseeing and still being a ‘tourist’ or I have stayed somewhere and found a job or some other way to immerse myself more into the local fabric of society. I had been back in Istanbul for two weeks and even though I had been traveling for eight months already, this finally felt like vacation…and I was getting better at the art of doing nothing and I was enjoying it.

Besides the amazing ancient towns all over Turkey, the landscape is rich with diversity—snow-capped mountains, sparkling Mediterranean beaches, and Gaudi-esque volcanic rock formations of Cappadocia.

A sweet bonus for us during our entire tour was the fact that it was May which meant beautiful, warm sunny days and cool, crisp nights untarnished by the soon-to-come smelly, summer hordes that will invade these parts in June, July, and August. Although we encountered many-a-tour bus at some of the more popular stops, filled to the brim with masses of Russian calendar gals or middle-aged Japanese folk dressed in smart traveling outfits and inevitably following just about anyone holding up a flag or umbrella, we also enjoyed a few places all to ourselves—a wonderful delight.

One of my favorite stops was this amazing water-cut gorge just a bit north of the Mediterranean. Saklikent Gorge (”Hidden Valley”) is the longest and deepest gorge in Turkey - 18 km long and so steep and narrow that the sun does not hit the water in most spots, leaving it deliciously icy-cold even in the summer…and of course, we experienced the leg-numbing waters first hand. We tramped over a simple rope and plank bridge and down the hill on the other side right into the freezing river below. First we had to actually cross the water below the bridge, which was a chilling thigh high excursion and a nice wake-up call for a lazy, sunny afternoon. We walked (trekked in Aussie speak) for about an hour into the narrow canyon in and out of the shallow water which carved the path and marveled at its stark natural beauty. The water-sculpted smooth bone-colored limestone canyon walls soared above us as we hiked further and further into the serene and canyon. It was unbelievably beautiful and wonderfully quiet except for our footsteps and the sound of sloshing water against the rocks. No other tour groups were around (hallelujah), not even the ones with pretty Russian ladies.

We really got to experience the freezing waters in a more intimate way as we went tubing down the river for several kilometers for about an hour. These were far from class III or IV rapids but, let’s just say it was enough to spill me out of my tube and plunge me down into the ice-cold rushing waters. Eeek. My butt got a good workout as we had to keep it somewhat ‘lifted’ in our tubes so as to not be bruised by the rocks underneath. Of course I ended up with a few bruises where I sit anyway, but was too numb to notice it at the time. It was good fun…well, besides shivering from cold, oh, and also the fact that my tube constantly would flow toward the banks of the river where dangling, evil bush branches waited to scratch up my arms and face. That was a nice, free exfoliating experience. Although I did have a paddle, it didn’t seem to do me much good as tubes are circular (really?) and I was either going round in circles or just going backwards half the time. But the paddle did allow me to block the branches from completely impaling me.

For some much needed ‘R&R’, we spent the next three sun-filled days on the Mediterranean in the seaside town of Fethiye. It was nice to just relax and walk around the once charming fishing village turned tourism mecca lined with dozens and dozens of small boats lining the marina just waiting to take you on that ‘perfect’ day sailing. One of my favorite memories here was dining outside at the local fish market. It was inside a kind of courtyard with the day’s catches for sale in the middle and lining the perimeter were a dozen or so fish restaurants. It was unique in that you buy your fish from any one of the several fish hawkers displaying their iced fresh prawns, sea bass, or calamari (my fav) and then bring it to one of the many cute restaurants lining the market. They cook it for you how you like it—throw in some tasty garlic bread and a nice salad all for just $4! It was such a great idea and I’ve never seen anything like it. It was so yummy and fun…we went there two of our three nights in Fethiye.

One day, our group took the requisite tour aboard a vessel sailing around the Mediterranean. We all looked forward to a lazy, quiet day tanning ourselves in the warm Mediterranean sun and doing mostly nothing—well, we thought it would be quiet, but the masses of Turkish tourists dancing to the loud, repetitive music of Turkish pop near our heads kind of made it a bit impossible to relax. Nearly all of us had imagined we’d be on our own private boat plying the turquoise waters, but it turned out to be a bit different. But we made t