Merhaba, effendim!

Here's a little story for you, sort of the Turkish equivalent of a cross between an Aesop's fable and a Grimm's fairy tale. It features a readily recognizable (in Turkey, at least) dude named Pasha (at least I think that's his name), sort of a cartoonish jolly fat Persian type in his healthy fifties. The nearest US equivalent would be Uncle Sam. If Uncle Sam wore a turban, rode a donkey backwards, and needed to lay off the fried chicken and sweet cakes really badly, that is. So:

Pasha goes into a clothing store and picks out a pair of pants that he likes. On his way up to the counter to pay, he spies a nice robe and changes his mind, puts the pants back and takes the robe instead. Heading out the door with the robe under his arm, the shopkeeper stops him, saying "Hey, you haven't paid for the robe yet!". Pasha replies "No, but I returned the pants, didn't I?". The shopkeeper says "But you didn't pay for the pants either!", to which Pasha retorts "You don't expect me to pay for a pair of pants I don't want, do you?". The end.

This tale provided a great insight into the Turkish culture for me, which is this: I haven't got a clue how this country works, so I'm gonna quit trying to understand it and just enjoy what comes in the day. This is tongue-in-cheek, of course, but does serve to illustrate a little of my mystification (is that even a word? It is now...) at dealing with everyday things here. The interest rate at the banks recently was 1000% Apr (no, I didn't put too many zeros there, although it did recently drop to as low as 180%), yet the economy flows along right as rain. There have been huge strikes by the public workers here, yet no public services have been disrupted. Sex is everywhere, in music, on TV, and on billboards, yet recently a high profile public service lawyer (male) refused to take a case for a fashion model because she wore conservative clothes that showed her belly button during Ramazan. Doctors make good money here, but one was recently busted for using an ambulance to pick her up for work every day. The language sounds like French, German, and Arabic at times, but has very little in common with any of them. And its mid-December, yet the sun is shining brightly on 70F days and white beaches. Do I understand any of this? No. Does this fact keep me from using public trains and buses, going into banks, riding in bike shorts and no jersey, trying to order food in Turkish, and slathering on 45 spf sunscreen only 2 weeks before xmas? Hell, no. I just do it with a slightly shell-shocked look on my face, that's all.

I'm currently staying in Koycegiz (pronounced koojiss, see above as to why), on the southern coast and having an absolute ball. This place is the going-out-of-business sale version of paradise: since its the dead season, many things are closed and all the rest is cheap as hell, but the sun keeps on shining and the views just get more and more beautiful every day. Fantastic pension rooms run by incredibly hospitable guys cost $7, including breakfast and a free Turkish dancing lesson. I just had dinner at a little cafe nearby: stewed green beans, rice pilaf with chickpeas, grilled lamb meatballs, and salad with bakeries-worth of fresh bread, all for $2.50. Including the lemon-scented cologne they splash in your hands afterwards. And at lunch today I rode out to some nearby thermal springs, climbing over a little pass to get a view of the snow-covered peaks 20 or so miles away, past literally hundreds of beehives laid out in neat rows amongst the pines, and through rows and rows of citrus trees hanging heavy with oranges and mandarins ready for harvest. Once there I was invited by a friendly couple to join them and their family for a picnic lunch of fried fish, spinach pizza, and stewed peppers, served by the steaming mineral pools in an incredibly informal fashion - everyone reaching for everything at the same time, all while walking around, talking, and gesturing wildly. Stuff got plonked on my plate at random intervals ("here, try this", "Ooh, the peppers - hot!", "you like fish?") and the head guy passes a little bottle of scotch my way with which to wash it down. What an incredible day. Needless to say, I'm falling in love with the place, now that I've left wonderful yet predatory Istanbul behind me. I'll be back here someday...

So, that's all for now. Having a great time, obviously, now that I've left predatory Istanbul behind. If you're looking for an exotic (somewhat) cheap (as you want it) vacation, try Turkey sometime. Just tell em Mark sent you, so I get my commission.