Tidbits and Insights

The Turks are passionate about music.  All music.  Wherever you go, people are plugged into music , swaying to the beat and either belting out the lyrics or just mouthing the words...but everyone knows the words.  They listen to American music, Turkish pop, classics, oldies, folk music, Greek, French and African...their appetite for music and dancing is an insatiable national addiction!

 Friday nights are set aside for enjoyment, and couples and families all head to the city to linger over restaraunt meals, and listen to their favorite singer, band or DJ.  Everyone dances...the children, the parents, the grandparents.  It is a surprisingly free and festive mood that overtakes the city...and again, in contrast to the often dour countenance of the throngs of people commuting to work in overcrowded, over heated busses or the furtive glances of workers who seem uncomfortable making eye contact with their supervisors.

On Friday we went to a birthday party for our friend here.  We sat in an open air restaraunt, listening to one of her favorite singers perform live under a canopy of fig trees and vines.  The singer was a Russian refugee with an amazing  range and eclectic tastes.  Without unions or any apparent labor regulations, the entertainment went on for hours without a break, song after song, carrying us well into the night.  We listeners to music that spanned at least six decades and three continents, and it seemed that everyone knew every song!

Good Morning Ankara

Woke up to the warm tickle of a hot mountain breeze and the quiet of our Bilkent apartment. In just a few weeks, this space has become our home, offering the respite and comfort of our personal items ordered as we like them. But there is an undertow that pulls at me, urging me to accessorize and personalize this temporary space. I am resisting it; in part because our time here is limited and the expense hard to justify, and also because I am trying to wean myself from my compulsive fixation on stuff. There is a freedom in living this way. No plants to tend, nothing to dust, no worries about carpet stains or faded curtains that should be replaced. It opens up space for tending to my inner space. With more time to be, and less time fussing, time has expanded. My to-do list is short; a little laundry, light cooking, and a few administrative details to take care of. Minimal effort and little time is expanded on these. There is time to write, time to read, to exercise and to meditate. But, when I walk through these light-filled rooms, I can't help but imagine them re-decorated to my taste....and maybe I will buy at least one large ficus tree to share the sunlight with me as I drink my morning coffee!

Goodbye Bodrum

Today was our last day in Bodrum. We took a morning cruise on a party boat, visiting the hidden coves and private getaways of Turkey's rich and famous. Because all beaches are consider public with free access to all, homes that sit on the waterfront cannot protect their property from locals and tourists who can paddle up to the shore and lay claim to a strip of sand on which they can bake in the hot Mediterranean sun. Our Captain dropped anchor in front of a stunning home in a crystal cove and invited us to dive in and swim, and take advantage of the beauty of the private beach which belonged to an Istanbul fabric designer. I cannot imagine an American entrepreneur sharing his seaside turf with marauding tourists, but here it is unremarkable. The sea was deep, crystal clear and a brilliant shad of aqua. The salt content is high. Feeling buoyant and energized by the refreshingly cool water, we floated on our backs luxuriating in the calm and wrapped in the beauty of the natural surroundings. We return to Ankara now, which is baking in the hot dry sun of the plateau. New adventures await.

Bodrum excursion

On our third day in Bodrum we met Malecka's father, Norayi, and step-mother, Gilman, a retired high school teacher of Turkish literature. She speaks a fair amount of English and he speaks a little, so between sign language, pictionary and sheer determination we got along famously. They both grew up in Muslim households, but have travelled extensively throughout the world and have converted to Buddhism. There was an immediate connection between the four of us, as if we had travelled similar paths in life, but in different countries. Norayi and Nabil even resembled each other, with broad backs, meaty hands, and similar facial structure. Norayi is a renowned architect in the region, who designed may of the commercial and residential buildings nestled in the hills and coves that dot the peninsula. He is now retired, and has turned to art and gardening as his creative outlets. He lives with Gilman in a small village not far from the hotel. Their home sits behind a worn wooden gate inset in a concrete and stone wall in a village of cobblestone streets and decaying homes from an earlier era. When the gates swung open to welcome us, we crossed the threshold into a lush garden populated with fruit trees, vines, flowers and cacti. The focal point of this tropical getaway was a huge stone Buddha shipped back from Laos and a water sculpture crafted from an archaeological find in the Himalayas. Here was an oasis of calm and beauty blossoming on the other side of a pocked marked dirt road patrolled by stray dogs finding shelter in the open doorways of shabby homes with flaking whitewashed walls. A far cry from the manicured gardens of Daniel Island and the gated communities of Park West! The home had been refurbished, but retained much of the character of a village home. It was overflowing with relics and collectables picked up along their travels. We drank Sangria in the garden from cups purchased in Bolivia while munching almonds and figs and trading travel stories and jokes in our improvised Turkenglish under a night sky decorated with an orange crescent moon. The following day they picked us up at our hotel and mapped out a touring program of some spectacular ruins that were off the beaten path, but no less spectacular than other more popular sites we had visited. The ruins of Miletus were extraordinary. Remnants of the harbor and the pedestrian walkway that encircled it were still intact as was a huge Amphitheater. The baths, market place, temple foundations, store rooms and a host of other city buildings were scattered over acres of hard packed earth tucked between the mountains and the sea. Many of these ancient cities were abandoned as the silt from the rivers filled in the harbors and destroyed the sea trade that had created their wealth. We also visited the temple of Apollo in Didyam and the temple of Zeus, both more than 4000 years old. While earthquakes and war had taken a toll on both, the scale and beauty of these temples can only be appreciated when viewed up close. On the steps of the Apollo temple, where spectators cheered on their favorite athletes, orators and artists who travelled there to compete for awards and recognition, we found the names of sponsors and VIP's etched in stone, laying claim to the best seats in the house. During our hotel stay, much to Nabil's irritation, several guests got up at the crack of dawn each morning to place their towels on the prime positioned ocean view chaise lounges, thus reserving them for the entire day. Whether it be through towels or stone etchings, greed and entitlement are alive and well in Turkey and have been for flourishing for thousands of years! After trekking through the ruins for several hours, we shared lunch under a grape vine arbor that shaded us from the blistering sun, then snaked back to the hotel on mountainside roads that offered spectacular views of the sparkling Mediterranean. We arrived at the hotel feeling full...full of gratitude for the rich life we enjoy, the friends that have shared their lives with us and the good health that allows us to partake in it all!

Bodrum....white washed stuccoed villas nestled into a hillside overlooking a crescent moon shaped harbor bisected by a spectacular stone castle standing guard against countless invaders long lost in battle,or turned away to return to distant shores. Bodrum is a sleepy hamlet of about 15,000 people that swells to a summer population of more than a million people that swarm the covered bazaar and flock to the neon- studded bars that spill over onto the seaside promenade. The sea sparkles in a relentless cerulean sky while vendors hawk sailing excursions and fresh fish dinners in charming open air cafes that turn out grilled fish and fried calamari plucked from the morning sea. The parade of global vacationers offers a glimpse into the broadest spectrum of cultural beliefs and lifestyles. From purple-haired bare chested rockers in snake skin leggings to women in head scarves and long- sleeved floor length robes, throngs of people crowd the streets clamoring to buy knock off brands, and boutique goods. It is all here, in a sea-side soup of sweating humanity. The city of Bodrum is on the Bodrum Peninsula, a mountainous terrain with a craggy coastline dotted with coves and harbors at the place where the Aegean and Mediterranean seas merge. The deep blue sea is clean and warm and sun worshippers crowd the island in summer. We have not seen a cloud since our arrival 5 days ago. It is hot and humid, though not as humid as Charleston! We are staying at an all-inclusive resort in the village of Torba, just a few kilometers from Bodrum. The trip was arranged by friends, Osman and Malecka who have three year old twins and they too are here with us. It is an ideal family resort, but we would have preferred to stay at a a smaller hotel in a boutique setting...of which there are many. It is interesting to reflect on our changing tastes. Years ago, when we took our own kids to Club Med, we were thrilled with the convenience and the array of family friendly activities and services. Now we find it constraining and have little tolerance for mass market vacation behaviors. However we are happy with the trade-off. Our friends know the area well and we have had the bonus experience of traveling with her father and step mom ( who,live on the peninsula) to see several less well known archeological sites as well as getting to know how the locals live. Bodrum itself boasts several stunning archaeological sites, the most impressive of which is the castle, which now houses The Museum of underwater Archaeology. Of all of the museums we have viewed in our many years of travel, it is among my favorites, in part because of the setting. They have done a superb job of showcasing both history as well as the art of recovering artifacts from the sea floor. The exhibits are well organized and well marked with interesting notations that provide more insight Into the lifestyle of the people than is typically provided in most museum exhibits. On our second day here , we spent several hours wandering though the castle, We capped off the visit with a seaside lunch surrounded by Germans, Brits and Russians all chowing down on fresh grilled fish and fresh Turkish produce. Then we took off on foot to visit The Mausoleum of Helikarnossos, one of the last remaining vestiges of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. While only the foundation and a confusing assortment of building fragments remain, the museum does a remarkable job of explaining forensic archaeology and shows how architects and engineers are able to render incredibly detailed models of the building as it once was even though half the pieces are missing from this ancient jigsaw puzzle. Any thoughts of ancient civilizations being less sophisticated than our own are dispelled as you contemplate the aesthetic sensibility, construction capabilities and social order that is contained in this history. And it certainly is a reminder that the continuous cycle of creation and destruction will most certainly consume us and our modern ways just as it has in the past. From there we hoofed it up a steep and narrow alley to a site beside a major thoroughfares where an antique Roman theater sat enjoying a commanding view of the Bodrum harbor. Open to curious pedestrians, with no security or entrance fee, it seems as if the plethora of history makes it impossible for the Turks to capitalize on all of them. Many of these historical gems sit unguarded and are free for viewing if your are willing to seek them out! We wandered the site, took pictures and read the billboard which shared a few details of the site. It once sat 20,000 but now seats 4,000 and today they still hold concerts and events in an arena that has been standing for more than three millennia. Jose Feliciano performed there on Saturday!

One school of psychosocial theory claims that people have one of three primary orientations; people, places or things/ideas. Mine is place. My personal space must be ordered, comfortable and clean or I can't function properly. Sometimes the need to maintain my space becomes an obsession, overtaking the primary goal of providing comfort and becoming a goal in and of itself. And so I find it curious that once I am in motion and on the road the obsession shifts from that of needing to order space to the sheer pleasure of exploring space. And what a relief that is! No fussing over pillows that are not angled properly in sofa corners, or spoons misaligned in the drawer. No need to shuffle through closets making sure that clothes are hung in batches organized by sleeve length and color scheme. Traveling releases me from this self-created prison and opens me up to the thrill of discovering place as created and designed by my global brethren. Coming round a corner and seeing purple Bougainville draped over the terrace of a white washed villa balcony is pure pleasure, and also frees me from the need to trim any spent blossoms. Travel is a voyeuristic hobby, peeking into the lives of people who are at once the same and different, and exploring how place has influenced every aspect of their lives. It opens you up to new color schemes, inspired building shapes and new patterns. There is the thrill of discovering new and often better ways of organizing and enjoying your daily life. But my penchant for neatness runs deep. And despite the beauty of Turkey and the thrill of daily discoveries, I am beginning to feel compelled to straighten her pillows. Modern Turkey is infected by rampant consumerism. Malls draw huge crowds day and night and through the week. The aisles of village bizarres are packed with throngs of impatient bargain hunters clawing through piles of discounted merchandise. Vacation villas and high rise apartment buildings in various stages of construction litter the landscape. The new aesthetic is modern and very much in line with western design...but somehow, in most instances, everything looks unfinished. It is an aesthetic that fails to accommodate for landscaped yards and where roadsides edges fall off into rivulets of eroded soil and spent grass. Homes and buildings are poised awkwardly on a hillside as if someone scattered seeds and waited to see where they might sprout. This ragtag assembly of beautiful spaces and places lacks crispness. There are no boundaries, other than the hard edges of rocks and concrete buildings. It as if no one learned to color in the lines; which would be fine if the edges blurred into a Monet like landscape, where curves and colors and natural shapes led one from one space to the next. But green space is also at a premium here. Manicured yards, edges curbside grass plots, buildings laid out in well designed grids, where doorways and garage entrances are on a plumb line...these are the missing ingredients in the Turkish scenery. I am not sure whether I am more bothered by an aesthetic that falls short of my standard or by my own need to judge it

Beypazari! This was our first attempt to take a solo excursion through the countryside and it was quite the adventure. We purchased a Tom Tom to help with navigation, but it had its limitations. We encountered several construction detours and these were not taken into consideration by our computerized navigator. Despite the fact that we were never far from civilization, it was funny to see how quickly panic set in when we found we were lost in a foreign country. After a few glitches, we righted ourselves and headed for a two hour drive into the Anatolian steppes. The drive was beautiful. The scenery was reminiscent of the hilly areas north of Phoenix, with dry mountains, and minimum vegetation. As we drove further west, we encountered more farm land. The rural outposts are much less westernized and we felt that we were closer to observing the lifestyle of the majority of Upon arrival in Beypazari, we realized that the limited information we had downloaded from the Internet was not Going to be enough to enable us to navigate the town And locate the points of interst. We went on a twenty minute hunt for the tourist office and never found it, but did find a police officer who was extremely helpful...he didn't speak English but eventually located some brochures and a map in English. Armed with these, we headed into the streets of this settlement that boasted one of the best collections of preserved and still functioning Ottoman-style homes in the country. We wandered through the market sampling local fare, and poking our heads into jewelry and craft stores. We had a delicious Turkish lunch on the stone veranda of a restaurant shaded by grape vines in a converted school that was over 500 years old. I have acquired a taste for Turkish coffee which would be the ideal accompaniment for baklava, but in the spirit of reclaiming my health, I have sworn off sweets until I drop twenty pounds. I thought it would be difficult to resist the temptation to indulge in the country's pastries and sweets, but I am enjoying the fresh vegetables and simple grilled meats. So for now, I'm more than satiated and enjoying my Turkish coffee without dessert. After lunch, we strolled through another bazaar and visited a living history museum in an old house that had been repurposed to showcase the lifestyle of the villagers. The upstairs was blanketed with Turkish Carpets which while worn, we're still magnificent. We saw spinners, weavers, dye makers and also saw how they purged evil spirits, by pouring molten led over the head of one obsessed by spirits. I tried to get Nabil to try out the service, but he declined! We also meandered through the city history museum trying to piece together the information describing the displays, which was written soley in Turkish. It is always surprising to see how much can be inferred from just a few hints...a word that seems familiar, a date, a map or a picture or symbol. We puzzled out quite a bit of Beypazari's history. Fortunately, the cost of entry to the museum was only a dollar, so we got more than our money's worth! We headed back to the center of town to view the remains of an ancient cansaveri, a rest spot for camel caravans. Lastly we took the car to the top of Hidrilik Hill, where we enjoyed a spectacular view of the town and the surrounding countryside. We drank tea on the picnic bench and gathered our energy for the ride back to Ankara, feeling proud to have navigated our first venture so successfully. The return to Ankara brought us back to modern Turkey replete with shopping malls and superhighways. We bought a printer at the local mall, enjoyed a grilled fish dinner in the food court ( where you can select your freshly caught fish on display by local fishermen!) and then headed upstairs to see the SAVAGES. Yes, we can still indulge our movie obsession! A full and satisfying day in a country where some people are living on the fast track and others are in a time warp, living as they did 100 years ago.

I've been here a week and time has both expanded and collapsed. It feels as if I have passed through a magic door into a new life. My memories of Charleston seem curiously distant, as if they were boxed and tucked away in some remote corner of my mind. I am not sure if that is because life is so similar here or because of the differences. The buildings, roads, shopping malls and restaurants in Ankara look like those found in any modern US city. The television shows, news programs and commercials seem to be a mirror image of the same programs airing in the US. Yesterday I was shocked to see a sanitary napkins ad on TV, which was both explicit and sexual in its orientation; while a graphic display made it clear that this product would soak up an impropriety associated with their routine biology, several women in tight white jeans paraded proactively past a group of admiring men, flaunting their sculpted behinds with confidence! While locals bemoan the increasing influence of conservative Muslims on Turkish culture, it is hard to imagine that influence overriding what appears to an entrenched liberal media and market economy. We are fortunate to have a membership in a wonderful health club that offers everything from Zumba to spin classes to free weights and personal training. In addition, there are two indoor pools, two outdoor pools, tennis courts, raquet ball, volleyball, a Pilates studio, several restaurants, a beauty salon and an aesthetic center. The facility is well used and I have observed a higher proportion of middle-aged and elderly people engaged in these activities than is typically represented in clubs like this one found back in the states. One of my goals while here is to re-establish a health routine for myself, so I have been spending at least an hour or two at the club each day. I am already feeling stronger and more energized. A change in habit or routine allows one the unique opportunity to observe how behavior is shaped and influenced by environment. Since I have so few obligations here, I find it easy to maintain my health regimen. Of course I recognize and intellectually accept that "health is wealth" but when presented with a "to-do" list, I have so often put my own personal health needs at the bottom of that list. Exploring those inner conflicts, and trying to understand why I often work against myself is one of the benefits of changing places. No answers yet, but lots of questions percolating! The people here seem reserved, seldom making eye contact with each other in public, and of course, being even more distant with strangers. I am surprised at how few people speak English. The language is a challenge, especially since I often have trouble recalling English words I have used for a lifetime. The alphabet, pronunciation and grammar are all very different from English and the romance languages. There are very few written words that trigger recognition of meaning. The written language is intimidating with words that seem a foot long in length, but which are peppered with silent letters and slurred syllables that shorten them by half. It is interesting to watch your mind try to find patterns on which to build it network of communication. At first everything looks and sounds so foreign. Then you realize that the stop sign looks the same, so the word DUR can easily be substituted for the word STOP. And then you recognize a caution sign, an exit sign, and then an entrance sign. Soon you see these everywhere, and slowly those new words become recognizable. Similarly, the language sounded incomprehensible when I first arrived, but now conversations between Turkish speaking people are peppered with one or two recognizable words that I can distinguish. Hopefully, within an another week or so, I will be able to master a few basic phrases so I can better navigate here. Nonetheless, it is amazing what can be accomplished through sign language. Today, I took a taxi and guided my non-English speaking driver to our apartment with no problem. Each encounter like that produces a range of emotions...first, a sense of vulnerability and fear, then surrender, and finally a sense of accomplishment! Living as a foreigner heightens the senses and brings you back to the beginning as you work through the puzzle of taking care of your needs.

Our Ankara apartment is in an area called Bilkent, which is a rapidly expanding suburb about 15 minutes from dowtown. It is quite spacious and flooded with light from sunrise to sunset. We are on a high promontory that looks over the valley and at night we have a jewel box view from every room. We are on the eighth floor of an apartment building complex that looks like it has hundreds of units. Despite its size, it is remarkably quiet and there are times when I am here alone that I feel like I am in a treehouse on an island in the sky. It is a fifteen minute drive to The heart of Ankara and public transportation is not an option from here. However, there is a shopping center, health club and a Starbucks within walking distance (though it is a considerable hike and the return is a steep incline that is brutal at midday). I haven't made th trek yet, but do walk daily up the hill behind the complex. At first I was disappointed in the location, but I have quickly come to appreciate the space. There is a constant breeze and that gentle cool wind speaks to me, like an old friend gently stroking my arm, or the gentle touch of a tentative first love. It feels as if the rooms themselves are breathing. The rhythm is at once comforting and unpredictable...perfectly encapsulating my feelings about this trip.

There are no accidents in life. Even in the simple act of browsing a book shelf you can feel the magnetic pull of words that must be folded into your consciousness. Bumbling through the aisles of a bookstore in the Munich airport with carry-on bags in tow, I stared bleary-eyed at the very limited selection of books available in English. I passed it over several times, then picked up Paulo Coehlo's newly released book, ALEPH. Turning it over, the back-jacket heading trumpeted, "Read ALEPH and rewrite your life.". More than a sign, it was a mandate.

And so, as I boarded the last leg of my flight from Charleston, South Carolina to Ankara, Turkey, and settled in with my new purchase, I saw my thoughts reflected in the mirror of ALEPH. There it was on page 11; the encapsulation of what I hope to discover as I while away the summer in Turkey.

"After weeks on the road, listening to a language you don't understand, using a currency whose value you don't comprehend, walking down streets you've never walked down before, you discover that your old "I", along with everything you ever learned is absolutely of no use in the face of those challenges, and you begin to realize that, buried deep in your unconscious mind, there is someone much more interesting and adventurous and more open to the world and to new experiences."

And so the search is on. Hopefully I will unearth that more interesting and courageous person buried within, the one who has been laying in hiding, toiling away at routine tasks and a slumping career.