The Bus to the Capital

My last days in Antalya were amazing. Part of me wishes that my last weekend would have been boring and uneventful so that I would want to get out of town. Instead I had one another great weekend filled with fellowship and blessing. My last day at Tomer concluded with an Ice cream party and sad goodbyes. James left for Istanbul on Friday and Andrew left to visit his family in Greece earlier in the week. Luckily the Bultema's were looking for some help with housework so I spent a few days at their place cleaning out storage areas and scrubbing off carpets. The work in the morning was followed by cool afternoons in the pool and dinner on the balcony overlooking the mountains and the sea. As I packed to leave, I couldn't help but feeling it was the beginning of the end. I am beginning the trip towards Holland.

I decided to leave Antalya by bus. I have never ridden a Greyhound before in the states so I had no idea what I was in for. However, I was not anticipating the sophistication of the Turkish bus system. I had booked on Kamilkoc (pronounced 'Camel Coach') one of 20 or so bus companies that operate out of a bus station that puts the Gerald R. Ford International Airport to shame. Every half hour in the evening and early hours of the morning, 20-25 buses park, unload, and reload passengers and luggage then depart again for another destination. Hundreds of Turks (I saw no foreigners) stand milling about with their luggage sucking down cigarettes as if their very lives depended on it. At 12:00 sharp I left Antalya with an imposing armada of buses traveling to destinations all over Turkey. The buses themselves are state of the art. The seats recline deeply and are soft and comfortable. The cabin slides across the road like it is gliding on air. There are attendants who come by serving packaged cakes and soft drinks in flimsy plastic cups just like an airplane. It was as though I was on a great road-bound cruise liner sailing into the endless black night. I all felt very surreal. Only 15 minutes outside of town I fell asleep.

At 3:30 AM I woke up to discover we had stopped and everyone was filing out of the bus. We had arrived at a Turkish rest area to re-fuel the bus and give everyone a chance to see how many cigarettes they could put down in 15 minutes. The were a few fast food doner places as well as a convenience shop. There were probably 15 other buses at this station and the entire place was packed. 50 or 60 people were standing around participating in the aforementioned smoking contest and the rest were scarfing cay and cheap doner. I would have preferred to just stay on the bus and nap, but I got up the initiative to get out and explore. It was downright chilly outside of the bus. The temperature read 15 c. (60 F) and I discovered we were in the middle of nowhere surrounded by absolute blackness. Thus I quickly retreated to the comfort of my bus seat and fell back asleep. At 5:30 I woke up again to watch the sun rise over the Anatolian plateau. Finally at 7:30 I arrived at my destination: Ankara, the capital of Turkey.

The 5 Things I will miss most about Turkey

1. Consistent Weather
I have been in Antalya for over a month now and the weather is the same now as when I arrived. It has not rained; there have been no cold spells. I know exactly what I am wearing everyday. Only once or twice did clouds appear in the sky to shade the city from the sun. Istanbul was no different. It was sunny with a high of 85 everyday for 3 weeks. It did rain once; there was a torrential thunderstorm that raged for 3½ hours one morning. I asked a few locals in Antalya if there was a water shortage since there has been no rain. “No, I don’t think we have ever had a water shortage” was the response. This baffled me until I remembered that no one here has lawns.
2. Food
Turkish food does not have the same international reputation as French, Italian or Chinese food, but it deserves much attention than it currently receives. Turkish food involves lots of fresh fruits and vegetables usually cooked with olive or sunflower oil or tomato sauce. Additionally Turkey has more spices in its rack than most people know exist. Meat is served as a delicacy rather than a staple. In America, salads consist of a pile of tasteless leaves made tolerable through the heavy distribution of fatty dressings. Turks ignore iceberg lettuce altogether and employ fresh tomatoes, parsley, and cucumber dressed lightly with oil, vinegar, and savory spices. Additionally, the fruit here is unspeakably fresh. There is a yellow plumb grown out near the Reynold’s place that is so full of sweet juices that consuming it is akin to eating a water balloon. Since the climate is so hospitable, people in the country grow orange, apricot, and plum trees like you or I would grow a maple or an oak. It just isn’t fair.
3. Prices
The food is great, but selling it for a quarter of what you would expect to pay for it is even better. At the bazaar cherries are 2 lira ($1.40) per kilo. Apricots are 1 lira ($.70) per kilo. Fresh watermelon is handed out at restaurants like after-dinner mints. A meal complete with bread, pasta, salad, tea, and stuffed mushrooms goes for 3.5 Lira at the Tömer café. I can eat out for every meal and spend under 10 Lira a day. Being the cheap Dutchman that I am, this is heaven.
4. Geography
There is something about looking out over the sea to distant hills and mountains that just never gets old. Turkey has all types of climates and geography. It has almost as much coastline as Spain and France combined. There are snowcapped volcanoes, deep green valleys, lush forests, and the unforgettable formations of Kapadokia, and I have only seen half the country. Mixed into the landscapes are the ancient ruins of churches, temples, and mosques. There is nothing to add here. It’s perfect.
5. The Little Things
The smell when I walk past a spice store, the little Turkish boy learning to play tavla from his grandpa, the taste of pistachio ice cream on a hot day, unrelenting Turkish hospitality, and the sense of adventure when I walk out of my apartment in the mornings. To take a line from a very good movie: “Sometimes there is so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can’t take it and my heart is just going to cave in.” I have felt like this in Turkey. This is not to say that other places are not beautiful, but in Turkey, beauty is raw and unrestrained.

If you don’t already know, I don’t want to leave Turkey. I find so much joy in simply living here. In my last 11 days here, I am trying not to be overcome by the nostalgic melancholy that everyone experiences when they look upon someone or something that they love for the last time. I tell myself not to worry because I will return to Turkey, but the truth is that I do not know when or how I will come back here. I feel led to Turkey but things in life do not always work out the way we think they will. Until then, I dream of the day when I can book a plane ticket that has no return flight.

5 Things I will NOT miss about Turkey

Unfortunately my days in Turkey are coming to an end. Since I have a lot of excitement planned between August 10 and my return to Holland, I thought this might be a good time to look back on my Turkish experience and do a few top 5’s.

1. Squatty Potties-

The first time I saw one of these I was in an Istanbul ferry lavatory. When I opened the stall door I thought I had found a dispenser for mop water or something. I decided I could hold it until the ferry docked. I managed to avoid using one until I moved to Antalya where the ‘Turkish Toilet’ is the only W.C. functioning in out apartment. Over the past month I have developed a reliable regime for proper usage. If I throw my right arm back and brace myself against the rear wall. I can have optimal aim without sacrificing stability or control. The whole concept of a squat toilet seems somehow backward and unsanitary. I am surprised Atatürk didn’t do away with them in the 1920’s when he got rid of the fez and Arabic writing.

2. Restaurant Hagglers

“My Friend! Won’t you come look at my menu? I give you nice price! Kebab, and chicken!” No sir, I am not hungry, I don’t care how fresh your lamb is or how cheap your beer is. I would just like to proceed to my destination in peace. I was with an Australian friend in Istanbul who was convinced to eat at a place because the waiter rushed out yelling “Hello Brother-from-another-mother!” I made the mistake of shaking hands with one of these guys in Antalya and he refused to let go until I had come to look at his “fine selection of fresh fish.” These guys know how to target tourists and have learned greetings in 7 or 8 different languages. If they don’t know where you are from, they will greet you 3 or 4 times in different tongues. I usually get German or Russian first.

3. ‘Abi Funk’

Abi is the Turkish word for uncle. There are a lot of plump hairy middle aged men hanging around the cafés, Döner shops, and tramways in Turkey. Often they have nothing better to do than sit, drink tea and play tavla. Unfortunately, most of these men are uneducated when it comes to the proper application of personal deodorant. Thus, “Abi Funk” is present in most confined and enclosed spaces such as elevators, busses, and small shops. On rare occasions, Turks will try to compensate for anticipated Abi Funk with the liberal application of cheap perfume. I got on a dolmuş to go to church on Sunday morning and was nearly bowled over by a perfume scent as disagreeable as it was potent. Perhaps old spice should look into developing a market here.

4. The Call to Prayer

After three months in Turkey, I have become accustomed to hearing Arabic blasted over the city five times a day. Normally it does not bother me too much. However, the Cultural Center is located right next to a minaret with particularly bad speakers. The call to prayer is also problematic when there are three mosques in a 3 block radius from your hostel and the call to prayer goes off at 4:30 AM. It would be one thing if people actually responded to it and busted out their prayer mats, but no one pays any attention, it is really just noise pollution.

5. Turkish Music

While some Modern Turkish music is respectable and classical Turkish music is pleasant and culturally significant. Most modern Turkish Hip-Hop is garbage. It is essentially an adulterated version of Classical Turkish music with too much base and suggestive lyrics. The music videos, which were played on repeat 24/7 at my hostel in Istanbul, are even worse. The videos appear to be directed by someone with limited creativity and an even smaller budget.

In other news, our bathroom officially has a roach infestation. I counted 13 baby bugs scurrying away from one of Vedat’s socks when I walked in last night. Today I got to my laundry in the bathtub again.

Termessos

Once upon a time in a land 23 kilometers Northwest of Antalya there was a great and beautiful city called Termessos. The people in this city were very careful about protecting themselves so they built Termessos high up in the mountains. While Termessos was filled with beautiful buildings and was surrounded by beautiful scenery, to go anywhere from Termessos required a day’s walk down steep and treacherous roads. Carrying food and supplies up a mountain got tiring for some people and some citizens moved to the comfortable beaches and rivers of Perge and Sagalassos. Soon the people of Termessos became the laughing stock of the country needlessly cowering in the mountain whilst others enjoyed the pleasures of the low-lands. One day in 313 BC a Macedonian named Alexander came to Anatolia with an unstoppable army. Perge fell quickly to Alexander’s forces. But, even sparsely defended, Alexander the Great could not even scratch the defenses of Termessos. Discouraged, Alexander unleashed his frustration upon Sagalassos and raised it to the ground. Termossos was never conquered.

Today, Termessos is protected by a different kind of army: the army that arrives by tour bus and destroys with tourist shops and litter. Although a one lane road has been carved into the mountain to the foot of the city, the skinny half mile trail uphill to the ruins is enough to scare away most casual tourists. The Krauses are not casual tourists. In addition to the five Krause boys, we acquired two more boys from Reynolds family for the trip bringing us to a grand total of seven energetic adolescent males. We spent a solid 30 minutes in the parking lot making sure every child had enough water, sunscreen, food, and bathroom time to last the journey. JP also managed to lock himself in the toilet stall which added to the delay.

Once everything was taken care of we proceeded to get ourselves lost in a Roman cemetery next to the parking lot. According to Roman tradition, one cannot be buried inside the city limits, so the roads leading up to the city gate of Termessos is lined with massive stone sarcophagi and cave tombs carved into the mountainside. After locating the correct trail we promptly hiked up the mountain. Most Roman ruins in Turkey have had some restoration work done to them. Perge’s Arcade, fountain and Agora have been partially restored. The theater at Aspendos is as close as possible to its original form thanks to significant repairs. There has been no excavation of Termessos. The Turkish Tourism Authority has bushwhacked a few paths through the place and thrown some flimsy gates over the gaping holes in city cisterns which descend some 25 feet down. Entire quarters of the central city lie under brush and rocks. The theater is one of the most interesting of the ruins. Not only would ancient spectators be treated to a show, but also to stunning views of mountains, valleys and even the sea in the distance.

When I see a ruined arch, building, or wall, my first instinct is to climb it. Were these ruins to exist in the States, most areas would be roped off and climbing banned due to liability issues. In Turkey, such laws either do not exist or are scantly enforced; therefore I spent most of my time scaling ancient temples like the rock walls at Dick’s Sporting Goods. Once I had climbed to the top of a ruined theater or meeting hall, I would look down to see seven overly ambitious boys struggling to follow and one justifiably concerned mother looking on apprehensively. On more than one occasion at Termessos, I decided to forgo climbing as far as I desired because I did not think Julie Krause would enjoy being helicoptered out with one of her kids on a stretcher with multiple contusions to the head and fractured ribs.

As we struggled down the mountain past ornate mountain carvings and tombs, Laura asked me if I was starting to get tired of all the ruins I have been touring. The truth is I am not. I am consistently amazed by what I encounter at these historical sites and Termessos is no exception. I think I have toured eight ruined cities since my arrival here in Turkey and each one has been an unforgettable experience.

Aspendos

On Friday, Tömer decided to take us on a field trip and bussed us out to a waterfall on the outskirts of town near the ruins of Perge. Lara, my good friend from camp was in town so she came along as well. The waterfall was very pleasant but Tömer had given us 2 ½ hours to explore the place and after 15 minutes of staring at the falls we were bored. Therefore Laura, James, and I sat down and played cards for two hours. After we returned Larua and I got Chicken Döner at a tiny restaurant for lunch and met the Krauses for an afternoon of further adventure.

The Krauses were in town again on family vacation. JP was still sporting the arm cast he earned at Olive Grove Camp and Josh was nursing the collection of stitches he recieved a few days before in Koş. Despite the wounded, the Krauses were in high spirits and ready for more. Today’s target was Aspendos (lovingly dubbed “Asbestos” by Laura) a Roman city to the East of Antalya. Seven Krauses, Laura, and I crammed into a 7 passenger Honda Odyssey for the drive out to the ruins.

The City of Aspendos is best known for its 7,000 seat theater; widely considered the best preserved Roman Theater in existence. Thus, the parking lot, souvenir shop, ticket entrance, and camel rides are all located less than 15 meters from the theater. The theater (as seen above) is truly a sight to behold. Modern work has restored the it to its original glory. The sight is a popular venue for concerts, shows, and ballets. The top of the theater boasts a curved covered archway and spectacular vistas.

As one exits the theater, there is a dirt path leading off to the left into some brush. 600 meters down this path lays the rest of the city. While the theater was impressive, it was the rest of the city that I enjoyed most. Perched on the top of the hill is a partially ruined stone structure that looks like a great black crown. All of us climbed up the stones and we were rewarded with a stunning view of the Anatolian countryside. The hills surrounding the city were painted with shades of blue, red, yellow and green. Columns and arches stood defiantly all around us, refusing to surrender to the sea of green brush surrounding them. Further exploration around Aspendos revealed a monumental fountain, roads, sewers, and grand archway. I also discovered that many of the stones we were walking on were in reality chunks of Roman pottery. The nine of us spent almost 2 hours climbing over arches buildings and walls at Aspendos but we explored only one half of the ruins. We encountered almost no other visitors outside of the theater which only added to the atmosphere of the place.

After returning to Antalya, our entourage enjoyed a pleasant meal at my favorite restaurant in town before retiring to the hotel for an evening of tavela. Laura and I had been trash-talking each other’s tavela playing abilities for weeks and over a bottle of wine at hotel pool I emerged victorious 5 games to 0!

Getting Around Turkey

It occurred to me yesterday that I have used almost every conceivable form of transportation to get around Turkey. I have been on an airplane, tramway, taxi, hot air balloon, car, ferry, dolmuş, gulet, paraglider, city bus, truck, metro, and an indefinable cable car type thing that pulls you up a hill. In addition I booked a ticket on a train for next month. Therefore I thought I would hand out some awards for the best ways to get around

Most Expensive, Most Useless & Most Rewarding: Hot Air Balloon.
I was about 100 feet off the ground when I learned that hot air balloon have no control over which direction they fly, only the altitude they fly at. Suddenly I realized why airplanes had become the preferred mode of aerial transportation over blimps and balloons. In the two hours we spent in the air we moved maybe three miles during which we watched another balloon land precariously on the top of a mountain. Our pilot told us that a few times every year the wind is strong and the basket will be dragged along the ground and knocked over during the landing. While hot air balloons have proved worthless for transportation purposes, they spectacularly fun to ride in, particularly when you are floating above a landscape as beautiful as Kapadokia on a pleasant summer morning. I felt like I was floating on air, smoothly and silently drifting up and over the jagged mountains into puffy clouds. It was literally dreamy. By far greatest morning I have had in Turkey so far.

Most likely to make you sick: Tie- Taxi and Paraglider

These two methods of transport will get you sick for two different reasons. When our family went paragliding near Fethiye, my ‘driver,’ for lack of a better word, caught a thermal and climbed rapidly to almost 10,000 feet. Only one hour before I had been enjoying the sun at sea level and now I felt as though I would puke all over the snazzy flight suit I had been given. Luckily we began to descend and my breakfast was spared an atmospheric re-entry. A ride in a city taxi causes either motion sickness, anxiety sickness, or a combination of both. I have already written about Turkish driving techniques, so you can understand why putting your life in the hands of a total stranger would be a little nerve-wracking. One second we are in gridlock traffic and the next we hopping the curve doing 30.

Most Culturally Adventurous: Dolmuş

A dolmuş is essentially a cross between a taxi and a bus. A dolmuş can take many forms from the glorified VW bus I rode in Istanbul to the new air-conditioned mini busses pictured above. Each dolmuş has a list of destinations posted on their windshields and if you see one with your destination on it you flag it down like a taxi. While most of the dolmuşes look the same on the outside, the inside is always a unique experience. Dolmuş drivers decorate the inside of their cabs with all sorts of ridiculousness. Chrome steering wheels, blue LED lights, and custom gear shifters are not uncommon. The driver will usually find at least one place to display a Turkish flag as well as a decal for the local football club. Once I was in a dolmuş where every lever, button, and bar was covered with at least one puffy pastel colored hair-tie. Once you become accustomed to your surroundings you play the driver a fare of 1.40 Lira. It is not unheard of to encounter dolmuş drivers who will be smoking, talking on their cell phones, driving, and making change for you all at the same time. What is nice about a dolmuş as opposed to a bus is that you can be dropped off at any point along the route whereas a bus will only stop at the designated stations. The other plus about the dolmuş is that they are literally everywhere. I swear there is one dolmuş on the road for every 10 cars therefore you don’t have to wait long for one to come by and whisk you off on another adventure.

Most Used: Walking

When your budget is limited and your time seemingly endless, there is no better way to get around than walking. Sure I show up everywhere sweating like a fat man on a Stairmaster but it is good exercise and lets me see the city. I am walking an average of two hours a day with books and computer on my back so I feel much less guilty about not running while I am here.

This week I have been trying to break out of my daily routine and mix things up a bit. Wednesday James, Anna Kate, and I took a dolmuş to Lara beach to swim, sunbathe, and play tavela all afternoon. On Tuesday I had a great interview with James (Bultema) that ran until past 4pm. Today some of us men went out to the storage unit to reorganize some things. I have had dinner at the Bultema’s two days in a row now. Their open-door policy reminds me very much of Mom’s house. Today I had the honor of grilling enough köfte and zucchini to feed 10 people on a grill smaller than a sheet of paper. The little grill was set up on the Bultema’s 14th floor balcony where I got to watch the sunset over the sea and mountains sipping on a glass of white wine. The Bultema’s neighbors joined us for dinner and we had great food and great conversation well into the night. This coming weekend is shaping up to be very exciting: The Krauses are in town! :)

Çok Hızlı Türkçe Öğreniyorum

Not satisfied with wrecking havoc over our weekend, Yusef’s hateful little sedan decided to ruin Monday morning for me as well. This time it wouldn’t even start for us. Andrew’s hypothesis was that the radiator had cracked on Sunday night. I didn’t care. I would never be getting anywhere near that God-forsaken automobile ever again. In order to get into school I sat on a rock in a field for 30 minutes waiting for dolmuş #50 to wander past. I was 50 minutes late for class. Moral of the story: never buy a car, trust the bus.

Speaking of antique equipment breaking down at inconvenient times, our washing machine bit the dust this weekend too. It is refusing to drain the water out of the wash basin, and being a side-load washer, the floor will flood if we open the door. Nuri was made aware of the problem and said he would fix it, but if it is not repaired by Saturday I will be doing my wash in the bathtub.

Despite the rough start, this week has been rather uneventful by Turkish standards. I go to Tömer in the morning, Paul’s Place in the afternoons, and back to çallı for the evening. The Tömer clases thus far have been wildly successful, I am learning Turkish very quickly. (translation: çok hızlı Türkçe öğreniyorum.) I can only hope that I can retain all of this language in the future. When I am not slaving away conjugation Turkish verbs Andrew has me addicted to a new ABC show called “Eli Stone” that we have been watching on his computer.

I have also been making the rounds in Turkish supermarkets. Acre-sized grocery stores are all the rage right now in Antalya. There are around seven of these stores spread across the city and they are essentially the same thing as Family Fare or Kroger. Once I have made it past the metal detector, I feel closer to America than I have felt since I got off the plane. There are two such stores occupying the same city block are about 5 a minute walk from our apartment and Andrew and go there often to scavenge for food. The fresh foods pale in comparison to what you can purchase at the local baazars but it is a great place to go and grab some chips and Schweppes Bitter Lemon to snack on before bed.

The free time has also given me the opportunity to cultivate my Tavela (backgammon) skills. Turkey loves Tavela like Americans like hamburgers. All you need to open a café in Turkey are tables, chairs, çay (tea) and a big stack of Tavela boards. I have discovered that there is a certain finesse involved in playing Tavela. You can tell how good a player is by how quickly and gracefully they rearrange the pieces on the board. Anna Kate Bultema is one such player. Even though I managed to win the one game I played against her, I felt like I had hit a lucky hole-in-one against the Tiger Woods of Tavela. Next time we play I will undoubtedly loose, but at least I won’t look like a novice in process.

This weekend I have nothing planned save a cookout at the Reynold’s place on Sunday. I hear Yusef’s car is still sitting disabled along the road in front of the house. If I keep 10 meters away from it at all times I am hoping it will not cause me any more trouble.

Weekend Adventures

The Reynolds own a hunting business here in Antalya. They take foreigners out into the country to shoot Wild Turkish Boar. They also have two Bloodhounds and lots of houseplants which means that when they want to go on a weekend camping adventure with their five children, someone must come and take care of their beautiful house. The house is located about 15 minutes outside of town in the mountains and above the stifling humidity that suffocates the city. There is no mass transportation way out here in the boonies so Andrew and I needed a vehicle to commute.

Pictured above is the car we ended up with. It is a white Ford Taunus from an unknown year (essentially a watered down Taurus Ford sold in Europe and Argentina in the early 1980’s). I searched around for an owner’s manual but it was missing, along with the proof of insurance and vehicle registration. The car belongs to some retired Turkish police officer named Yusef that the Reynolds know somehow. It has no heat or a/c, no radio, and the key falls out of the ignition occasionally. The body shows signs of multiple traffic incidents. The passenger seat also lacks a spring recoil on the seatbelt so the entire safety restraint sits in my lap like a limp noodle. While this vehicle seems simple and un-interesting from the outside, the secrets lying beneath the hood caused Andrew and I some significant unpleasantness on this weekend.

After a relaxing and uneventful Friday night dining and enjoying the pool, we decided to spice up our day with a trip into town to catch a movie. After a hearty late breakfast we drove down from the mountain, got some gas and headed to the theater. Even when it is running normally the car sounds awful. 1st gear is tricky to get into and the car likes to slip from 1st into reverse so Andrew is forced to start from 3rd gear all the time. However, about 10 minutes from the theater Andrew noticed something was seriously wrong. As we made an illegal u-turn in a busy intersection, the car inexplicably died. Andrew tried to restart it but failed. The light turned and we suddenly found ourselves blocking 2/3 of the eastbound lane on one of the largest roads in Antalya. We were almost immediately surrounded by unhappy Turkish taxis and dolmuş drivers. We leaped from the car and tried to push the it through traffic and up the curb. The curb was to steep to mount so Andrew jumped back into the driver’s seat and I pushed him backwards down a one-way turn lane to a semi-secure parking location. With the car out of immediate danger and no way to contact help we decided to walk three blocks and enjoy our movie.

The movie we decided to see was Transformers 2: Rise of the Fallen (subtitled in Turkish). Entire volumes could be written documenting the plot inconsistencies in this film. While I must admit I was entertained for 117 minutes, the errors were so blatant they were impossible to miss. The issue that annoyed me the most was that the movie assumes the entire Middle East is the size of lower Manhattan and that the Pyramids at Giza, Petra and the Red Sea are all within easy walking distance of one another. In reality they are separated by a collective 253 miles, an international water way, and two closed Israeli boarder crossings. During the film two of the robots are magically resurrected from the dead by shoving chunks of metal into their chests. I could not help wishing that Yusef’s dead Ford Taunus could be similarly revived.

However, God always provides and during the intermission (Yes, Turkish movies have a planned 10 minute intermission) we realized that a friend from the cultural center who likes to fix cars was in the same theater with us. After we had finished watching the film we walked over to the car. Upon closer examination we discovered that we had run out of fuel. When we had filled up in the morning, Andrew had put petrol in the car. Unbeknownst to us Yusef had installed a natural gas fuel tank and now the car was out of natural gas. Our mechanic friend switched us over to petrol, but the car refused to idle properly when it was being fed gasoline. Thus for the next half and hour we desperately searched for a gas station; stalling out every time we encountered a traffic light, roundabout or when a brainless dolmuş driver cut us off. Finally we found an M-OIL, filled up, switched the fuel source back, and ventured back onto the highway.

To celebrate our safe return to the Reynolds we cooked ourselves spaghetti and meatballs and stayed up late watching downloaded TV episodes. The next morning I woke up to our next little adventure. Andrew and I sleep in the master bedroom because it is the only one with a clima. To keep the cool air in the room I shut the door before I passed out on a mattress on the floor. What I had failed to realize is that the master bedroom door lacks a doorknob. Therefore when I got up on Sunday morning I discovered that we were locked into the room. In order to escape our self-created prison I was forced to squeeze through a window and Andrew had to jump off the roof. Getting the door to open again required removing the doorknob from another door and re-installing the entire apparatus on the broken door. It is a good thing that household maintenance is my favorite way to wake up on Sunday morning.

Church was a little sparse and afterwards Renata five of us out into the countryside for an authentic Turkish lunch in a köşk complete with homemade ayran. It was Ruth’s birthday so some of the girls baked a cheesecake and we celebrated back at Renata’s with ice cream and drinks. It was a great day spent with great company. Andrew picked me up in Yusef’s demon mobile at 8 so we could drive up and feed the hounds. Half way home the car overheated and we had to pull over at the same M-OIL that had rescued us less than 36 hours before. Yusef apparently neglected to put any water in the radiator and we had no way of knowing the engine was running hot until we smelled something burning. After about a half hour sipping tea at the service station we filled it with water and made it up the hill to the house. This is my last night here and once the car drops me off at Tömer tomorrow I can wash my hands of it forever.