Lionel.

Can we talk about Lionel?

I don't remember the last time that I showed you all a picture of this guy.  He looks less than pleased here.  This was right before I left for Italy this summer and I wanted a picture to show the family that I used to work for as a nanny.  The dad and youngest son were here the summer we got Lionel.  He looked like a black lab puppy.  I wanted to show them how three years had changed him, so I used myself as a perspective giver.

This is the ding dong at the dog park.  He gets all heated up in eleventeen seconds and heads right for the swampy mess of a pond.  Happy as a clam.  Eating mud, being all Loch Ness Monster-y.....right after this picture was taken, he turned around and looked at me with grass hanging from his mouth and mud dripping from his jowls.  God, he reaked that day.  Thus, so did my car with the cloth seats.  For days.

This is his stoic look.  Not really.  He could be tired, he could be pissed off, he is actually looking out the front window surveying his kingdom.  He does not deign to give attention to me this day.

Exhausted.  Too tired to get out of the car after a day at "school".  "Ef You." is what is probably thinking right now.

Do you know what makes you happy?

If you had to, could you come up with a succinct answer in 30 seconds? I'd even give a person a full on minute if they needed it.

Shouldn't I ideally be able to answer that question in that amount if time?

Shouldn't anyone?

I ask because I am not sure I would be satisfied with the completeness of an answer I wound give right now. I would, without hesitation, have a solid start. My husband and our marriage, our dog, having good health---that is maybe more grateful than happy----a beautiful fall day with crisp autumn air and sun.

But much beyond that? I falter a little. Would you? What would you say beyond the 'obvious'? Would you feel obligated to say your relationship with family? Baggage and all? Your kids? Your job?

I want to know what truly---no societal pressure or expectations to say the right things---makes me happy. What is only mine, not dependent on outside factors or people...but what is mine in my heart and within my control. Really, it shouldn't be that hard----and if it is, then all the more reason to ruminate, yes?

I don't feel lost, I just feel a dissatisfaction----for lack of a better word----with my status quo...and have for some time.

I do tend to fester about decisions, and to be honest, I have been stuck for a couple years. Generally, I mull things over, make the best decision I can and move on. This time, I seem to be spinning my wheels WAY longer that even I am comfortable with.

So. There.

The challenge is to figure it honestly out and then have the courage to act on whatever that is.

Challenge accepted.

Last Day.

Packed. Crammed full of stuff to do and boatloads of heat.

A quick morning drive from Capadocia to the capital, Ankara. A quick four hour drive....which for the past couple days is a quick bus ride for us! A stop at the Salt Lake and right to Anitkabir, Ataturk's mausoleum.

This thing is massive and the scale follows the national sentiment for him. Lots of patriotic music playing and hero portraits and artifacts from his life. We also got to see the changing of the guards which was cool to see as I have never seen any guards changing regardless of the nation.

From there we drove close to our lunch site, but there was road construction and the bus couldn't get up the hill and the narrow streets which was the only way we could get up to the restaurant.

TCF kind of solution? Load us all in taxis and metaphorically hit the horse's ass....and we are off to the races. It was quite warm and the taxi driver the four if us got considered red lights and one ways mere suggestions instead of traffic regulations. I giggled the entire time, remembering Ken getting sideswiped by a taxi whilst he was trying to cross the street. They don't play in Ankara. Ken was fine and suffice it to say, he only made that mistake once.

The restaurant had an outdoor patio that had a gorgeous view from the old part of town, but due to the fact that it was the temperature of the sun in Ankara and we were under a fiberglass roof (essentially creating a greenhouse effect) it was.....warm? There were very few who enjoyed lunch that last day, including the speaker who had had to wait for us to arrive.

He represented the German Marshall fund of the United States. He is a Turk. He was fasting for Ramadan....which no food and no beverages And it was hotter than hell. He patiently suffered our questions and then put on his wool blazer as we walked down to the Ancient Civilization museum.

Do Turks not sweat?!?!! We were all so completely disgustingly sweaty and wilted.

The last speaker was canceled because of the heat and time delays. Many were looking forward to this speaker from the Turkish ministry of foreign affairs. The last day and wrap up was the present and highlight modern, current Turkey's position in the world.

But many others were also looking forward to showers.

The final dinner then an early night to pack and mentally prepare for the 3 am wake up call.

Mashallah.

The Evil Eye. Protecting the wearer or user from harm or evil. They are everywhere.

The taxis, busses, most businesses, houses and people have them displayed somewhere.

Little babies ALWAYS have tiny mashallah evil eyes safety pinned to them.

The same baby pins are used as a pretext to cop a feel of an unsuspecting female tourist as the shopkeepers pins it on them. It happened to a couple gals on the trip....it angers me. The presumption, the pushing of personal space boundaries....all of it. But I also know that my anger doesn't solve it or end it.

La la la.

Underground city: Kaymakli

Yep. You read it right....city under the ground. Seven stories with kitchens, churches, stables, air ventilation shafts, housing units, stone wheel doors....it is always a crowd pleaser---unless you are claustrophobic.

The peeps of the early Christian times were not large. Plus, if you are carving out all the rooms and shafts and connecting tunnels, you aren't going to want to do anything extra, right?

I like it a lot but a couple of of group members elected not to join us because once you go down, there Isis no going back.

I am going to post some pictures but consider yourself forewarned, they are crappy. The lighting was not great and the space was too small for a flash.

Wow.

I was looking forward to Capadocia the most; it did NOT disappoint.

The landforms remind me of what I know of the Badlands, but they are different. Two different kinds of volcanic rock----hard darker layer on top, soft more vulnerable layer on bottom----creates this landscape.

It is magical.

Goreme Valley is an open air museum with over 300/365----depending on with whom you speak---churches carved into the softer bottom layer. The first time I was here, I was told that it was for early Christians to rotate to a different church each day to escape persecution from the ruling Romans.

There are also abandoned settlements of houses carved into the soft layer---that is how soft it is. In past trips, I have stayed in pensions that are still carved into the soft layer---essentially the room is a man made caves.

Lastly, we saw the Whirling Dervishes. Wow. I mean, all I can say is.....wow. Those who know me will express zero shock that I was moved to tears. It was eloquent and spiritual and peaceful.

Sufism is a branching off from Islam in which followers of Rumi, from the mosque we visited yesterday, whirl to achieve a trance like state. It is hypnotic to witness and you wonder how they don't wipe out. The monks who are the dervishes train and train. They tip their heads a certain angle to keep equilibrium in their ears so they stay balanced.

There are different arm positions: crossed in front to symbolize being full of love and mercy, both arms extended to the sky to receive from Allah, and finally one arm extended to the sky and one to the ground to symbolize the Dervishes become links between heaven and earth. The word dervish comes from the Persian word for door and expresses the ultimate goal of opening.

It has a very calm vibe. The whirling is more of a spinning and the movement of their arms from crossed in front to down at their sides to extended above is not rushed.

The thing that spoke to me was the expression on everyone of their faces. Eyes closed, serene, no tension----the entire time. They may have been concentrating or sleeping; you would never be able to tell. As they moved around the floor, they would occasionally half open an eye, but when they were whirling in one spot, they were mostly blind and in their own thoughts.

The music was also vital. The whole thing opened with a solo acapella that hauntingly beautiful.

I don't have pictures as they were not permitted. I am kind of glad as I think it certainly would not do the experience justice.

Ramadan Begins.

Today was the first day of Ramadam which is called Ramazan here in Turkey. It begins Thursday evening after sunset. Which means that from sunrise to sunset for the next month, Muslims who observe Ramadan won't eat, drink, or smoke from official sunrise to official sunset.

We didn't really see a big difference as we move from one city to the next almost everyday. But Orhan, our tour guide, said that the traffic coming into Konya was much lighter. Also, there were fewer people out and about.

Ramadan during a summer like this with the heat has to be much more difficult than later in the coolness of fall. Ramadan follows the lunar calendar so the placement of it during the year falls at different times each month.

Our hotel offers Sahur two hours before sunrise. I am not familiar with this term but from what I can gather this us meal prepared and eaten before sunrise so you have something to go on until sunset. You can request it delivered through room service at 3 am.

When I was here the first time, Ramadan fell somewhere in March of April. I was in a home stay at the time and remember waking up to the beating of a drum. On the 15th floor of a high rise in Istanbul. That was done on the streets below waking the women of the house to begin preparing the Sahur. It was a service the city provided....that makes sense in a nation that us 98 percent Muslim.

I don't know that I could show such devotion. I don't know that I would want that obligation.

Chatalhoyuk.

Two majorly old sites in Turkey: Gobeklitepe.....was just in National Geographic within the last year as evidence of human existence earlier than previously thought.

Before Gobeklitepe, the oldest was at Chatalhoyuk....I think 7000 years ago---if I remember correctly. First evidence of hunters and gatherers settling down for the first time and farming and domesticating animals.

That is big time, people.

I was here 22 years ago and don't remember ANY of what I saw today. I am for sure looking in my pictures from then when I get home.

Rumi Mevlana.

I didn't really know what Whirling Dervishes were....an idiom to connote a massive amount of frantic energy?

Today we went to the mosque in Konya where Rumi Mevlana is buried----he is the found of the Sufi order of Mevlani monks also known as the Whirling Dervishes. We will see the demonstration tomorrow and I am really looking forward to it. It has done Buddhist favors to it fro. What I can tell and that intrigues me.

He is buried in the mosque über the green tiled tower.

Changes I Noticed From 20 Years Ago.

Pamukkale in the picture: the first time I was here, you could walk anywhere, loll around in the pools, there were hotels right there and no shops. Yesterday? Hotels gone, major amounts of tourists---particularly Russians---, police blowing whistles when people went outside the reduced area where they were permitted, and tons of souvenir kiosks.

Bathrooms at rest stops already have been addressed in an earlier post.

Women covered: they are more frequently seen than 10 years ago and for sure 20 years ago. The current first lady is the first in the Turkish republic history (1923 established) to cover her head. There is growing divide between secular republic Turkey and increasing conservative faction of the Turkish population.

Temple of Aphrodite.

I cannot believe how complete the stadium at Aphrodite is....how well preserved it is, and how flipping huge it is--- I couldn't even get it in one picture from where we were allowed to be.

All of it under a functioning farming town that was eventually forced to move in order to accommodate the archaeological dig. The stadium? Under some guy's tobacco field. Museum store? Mayor's house. I like that the national government prioritized their history (they paid to move the town), but I totally get how pissed the townspeople were at having to move.

Ephesus.

St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians....was it Paul? Regardless, Ephesus is old. Whoever was writing the letters to the Ephesians was preaching to the Romans that were still praying the their pagan gods.

The ruins that are there have been restored and reconstructed to give a comparatively strong impression of a city, rather than the usual solitary building or temple.

The library is beautiful and impressive. Everyone loved the latrines outside the roman baths.....you can see them in the foreground of the picture with the library again in the background.

I really enjoyed walking down the marble road. Most places I visit, whether it is a modern functioning city or a historical site, I picture what it would like to live there or have lived there. The road made it very easy to time travel.

Breakfast.

Turkish breakfast is different enough to warrant a separate post. In the hotels, there have always been buffets so you don't have to eat it if you choose so.

Turks have coffee or tea....it is must. In the hotels, we have had Nescafé--and Turks drink that as well----but Turks also drink Turkish coffee. In American parlance, it is not unlike espresso with much of the grounds at the bottom of the cup. The grounds can be read when you are done, but I think this is more of a novelty like if you have coffee with friends.

Tea is made in a double boiler tea pot. The bottom tea pot is bigger and hold the water. The upper tea pot holds loose teas and is smaller. You heat the bottom chamber, which heats the top. Then, you pour the concentrated tea into a glass tulip shaped juice size glass and then dilute it with the hot water to your desired strength. Turks drink a lot of teas and this works out to be an efficient method. In the hotels, Lipton tea bags are used.

The constants for traditional Turkish breakfast are tomatoes, cucumbers, olives---usually black, but green is also eaten----and white cheese. It can be similar to feta, but creamier, or perhaps you might choose not such a salty variety of cheese.

Hard boiled eggs, cheese or sliced meat that looks bologna like are the main types of protein. If I remember correctly, yogurt is also a standard. Thicker, creamier and tangier than regular America yogurt and even the recent surge of Greek yogurts.

Bread rounds it out. It fills you up but is not heavy like a farmer's traditional breakfast of eggs potatoes and bacon or sausage.

It is good. I have been loving the quince jam on bread or toast with the spreadable white cream cheese. Enough so that I will need to find a jar of quince jam upon my return. Also, yogurt and a ton of Nescafé. To finish it out, maybe an egg or yogurt with honey or melon. I look forward to breakfast everyday.

Let us be real.... It is not just breakfast---it is any eating opportunity, not just breakfast, not just meals.

He Is Everywhere.

Ataturk. Father of the Turks, first president of the Turkish Republic.

His image is everywhere. Restaurants, homes, sides of buildings, truck stops, stores, schools, neckties, arm tattoos.....everywhere.

I can't imagine pictures of George Washington being displayed as pervasively as Ataturk is here. The Turks are extremely proud of him.

Food.

I am a little surprised to admit that I am officially full while in Turkey. A week of four course meals at lunch and dinner has exceeded the maximum feed-able hours for my stomach.

It is just so good. So good. We have passed so many roadside stand with casaba melon and watermelon. You know I love me some melon. Tomatoes and eggplant and peppers.....zucchini blossoms! I was most excited about trying those as I have never had them and have always wanted to try----verdict? Thumbs up.

Desserts are honey based, think baklava, honey cakes----both of these in many shapes and varieties. Often, walnuts, pistachios or almonds will be chopped up and used as an ingredient or topping.

The first course is always "meze". This is the appetizer course that is, or could be, substantial enough for a solid meals. Veggies, spreads, pickled items, little meat surprises- there is, again, a great variety of choices to choose from. It has been nice because the dishes are just brought to our tables; had I been traveling without a group I would never have ordered the number of choices we have been able to sample.

Then we usually have a side dish---a salad or vegetable dish or borek. Borek is a dough that is stuffed, layered, rolled, or some other preparation with cheese, vegetables or meat. 'Borek' is the classification of food, like 'pasta' in Italian food can come in a myriad of ways.

The third course is a meat dish often served with potatoes or pureed eggplant. I usually don't even come CLOSE to finishing this course.

And then the desserts. In addition to the ones mentioned above there are a lot of puddings and sponge-y cakes; to be quite honest, the desserts I have had or chosen have not wowed me except for one. It was at a fish restaurant on the Bosporus and is a dessert common in fish focused restaurants. It is helva made from tahini and baked in a terra cotta dish much like creme brûlée. It was phenomenal. Helva findirli I think it what Zeynep called it. She is the Turkish teacher traveling with us in her mid twenties. I think her role is to help answer our many, many questions and take group photos at seemingly every opportunity.

The pictures below are from a family restaurant up the hills (mountains??) from Selchuk today. Home style cooking that was absolutely fantastic. Thankfully, it was not four courses but buffet style so we could choose what and how much we wanted.

Ulu Camii

Bursa is a big town. I had never been there before and have to admit I was pleasantly surprised.

The mosque we visited called Ulu, which means big, I think----was different then the ones visited so far.

Serene----well, they all are serene---but I mean this interns of the decor. Simple. Understated. I really enjoyed the opportunity to see it.

True or False?

We Need to Discuss Something. And That Something is Bathrooms.

We have been doing a fair amount of bussing and bus stops since we left Istanbul. Which begs the question: "How are the bathrooms?"

I will say this: Comparatively, since the previous times I have been here, they HAVE changed a bit. There are more western style toilets as an option.

Don't get be wrong, the squat toilets are still the going model in more long distance highway gas stations or stops. And, really, my quads don't have a problem with this style.

But everyplace we have stopped, there has been at least one stall in the women's restroom that is a western toilet. That is a big change from before----you used the squat because otherwise you didn't go. I feel like I just threw down the "When I was your age, we didn't have 'blank' and we made do..."

The western ones always has a long line from our group waiting for it. I am glad the squat toilets are not unfamiliar...a couple trips to Turkey in the past twenty years and two years in Bulgaria will cure any hesitancy about this practice.

The pictures below are a western toilet in the restaurant yesterday for lunch and then a Turkish toilet in the same restaurant.

What is concerning is the sign I saw today in the Silk Market in Bursa. I am confused by the need for such a sign. It was in the stall I used that had a western toilet. It begs a couple questions----almost immediately:

1). Why can't you vomit in these toilets?

2). Lower left, bottom row: WHAT?!? When has fishing ever....EVER.....been a possibility...or an option, for that matter???

Discuss.