DATE: May 2006
LOCATION: Ankara, Turkey
This was my second trip to Turkey. The first time around all I did was work and eat. Unacceptable, I know. I was new to the job, and had no idea that Turkey has more history and culture in its little finger than much of the rest of the world put together. Turkey has been home to MANY of the greatest civilizations ever known, Assyrian, Hittite, Hellenic, Persian, Roman, Byzantine, Seljuk, and Ottoman just to name the major ones. Every group has left a distinct mark which leaves the traveler in awe. You could spend months traveling in this country roughly the size of Texas and still not see all the AMAZING things it has to offer. Not “neat” or “pretty cool” things…AMAZING things.
I was in Ankara to attend a series of meetings with my counterparts in the Turkish establishment. It is an annual “feel good” exercise to show how much we love our NATO partner who also happens to control most of the major supply routes to our troops in Iraq (but we won’t mention THAT). We stayed at the Sheraton, the nicest hotel in town, and were given police escorts and bodyguards that looked scary and official and helped us on and off the vans that speed us, sirens blaring, through downtown traffic. I felt REALLY important, to the point of absurdity. Seriously, we were just a bunch of mid-level wonks. We ate 5 course lunches with silver and linen, waiters at our beck and call and sat in great conference rooms with marble hallways and tea and cookies at every break. Apparently last year this conference was in DC, and we sent everybody down to the base cafeteria to fight with plastic trays and over-cooked hamburgers before paying for their own meals. Nice.
Our work center was the US Embassy, which is a 1950’s edifice just as ugly as all the other US embassies I’ve seen. It actually fits Ankara, a modern city with little style or grace itself. Thank goodness we spent most of our time in Turkish spaces. Much nicer.
Since we were an official American delegation, we were invited to lay a wreath on the grave of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, founder of the modern Turkish republic in 1923. Ataturk, a name he gave himself which means “Father of the Turks” has a god-like status in Turkey. Read the hyper link I added above, and you’ll see why—impressive stuff. There are pristine statues of MKA on every corner. Photographs and portraits adorn every office, store, taxi, and next to Turkish flags hanging from people’s windows, banners with Ataturk’s face stare omnipotently. Good thing he was a good looking feller. And a snappy dresser. With the god-like status comes the state-proscribed respect that must be shown. Saying nasty things about the man, or in any way defacing his likeness will land you in jail. As will chewing gum while laying a wreath. No, I didn’t find out the hard way, but some poor mayor in eastern Turkey did a few days before. With this in mind we got into a formation (hilarious since I was one of the few in the group with any military experience), and a Turkish government-provided wreath 3 ft across was brought forth by some very tall and well-pressed soldiers. We processed at a formal pace up a flight of stairs, and down the ½ mile cobblestone lane to the main building where we met 2 more flights of stairs before the soldiers placed the wreath for us. Thank goodness I don’t have much fashion sense, otherwise I would have been wearing stilettos like the other females in the group. After the ceremony we were each handed a certificate of appreciation with Ataturk’s disembodied head glaring disapprovingly from the background. I’m going to frame it. Total conversation piece!
Ellis came out to meet me, and enjoyed a short while as a “kept man” in my $350 a night hotel room. When I came home from work he was sprawled on the king bed, “comfortably attired”, drinking a beer with the TV on and a comatose smile on his face. When the conference was over, and I managed to get Ellis dressed, we rented a car, and headed out of town. Or tried to head out of town. Turkey has some of the worst drivers anywhere I’ve been, the streets aren’t marked, and rental cars come on empty. Ankara is also surrounded by hills, and there are only 4 roads out of town, one in each cardinal direction, so if you don’t make the right turn, you’re SOL. So, 2 hours and several snippy conversations later we ACTUALLY headed out of town. Ellis was a champ driver. “This third world driving, it’s all about nose position” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand. And he made it look just that easy.
Once out of the smog and chaos of town, the landscape quickly turned picturesque. In an hour we were surrounded by stunning scenery. Green hills gave way to snowcapped mountains gave way to clear blue sky. Our destination was Cappadocia, a short drive from Ankara but worlds away. Cappadocia is famous for interesting (and if I might add, somewhat racy) rock formations and caves which have housed residents for thousands of years, and still do. I booked us in the Hotel Museum. It was pricey for the area, but worth every penny. It was traditional and in harmony with the spectacular surroundings. Some rooms were caves, others made of the soft stone of the area. A mosaic-bottomed pool, great restaurant, very cool open air bar, and a maze of garden paths with hidden benches and turtles completed the understated and classy design. The patio looked over the valley with the snowcapped volcano looming, surreal, in the background. In the evenings they lit a small log fire to keep off the chill as you sipped wine and enjoyed the luxury of it all. In the mornings you could get a traditional Turkish shave on this same patio. Those of us who needed a shave took full advantage.
We spent two days wandering under the towering volcanoes in our rented Ford Fiesta, dodging turtles wish a death wish. We saw the Goreme cave churches, carved out of the soft volcanic rock sometime shortly after Christianity arrived after the 4th century, and ornately painted in the 11th century. The interiors, not exposed to light, or any other element for that matter, are in near perfect condition after1,000 years except that many of the figure’s eyes have been scratched out. I supposed hate and small mindedness can be considered the most destructive elements there are. Christians in this area were attacked on a off for, well, forever. This was the impetus for the creation massive underground cities, built large enough to hide entire communities from their enemies. If you are fat or claustrophobic, you might want to skip the underground city tours.
We shopped for pottery in Avanos, a trend started by the Hittites who first started making clay vessels here in 1300 BC. That’s right. BC. We wandered among the cave stores, probably the same cave stores, shopping for plates and vases and tiles made in the same way and painted with the same designs as some couple that lived…well, I can’t even think…it boggles the mind.
Have I mentioned food yet? No? Geesh, what am I thinking? Turkish food is amazing, and we enjoyed the gamut, from doner kebaps (meat roasted on a rotisserie and sliced off with long machete blades) off the street to formal dinners of traditional cuisine—lamb in yogurt, chicken shish, dolma (stuffed grape leaves) and baklava. As my boss who has spent lots of time in Turkey and Greece put it “The best Greek food is found in Turkey”. Having been both places myself, I agree 100%. I wouldn’t say that around a Greek though.
One night we headed out on a walk before dinner. A thunderstorm was slowly rolling in, and the air was thick. We passed a group of kids trying to fly a ki…. plastic grocery sack taped to sticks. They laughed and waved and said “Bon jour” and “Guten tag” and somehow we ended up in their house, with their mother smiling while she put Muslim headscarves on me and told me I looked beautiful…at least I think that is what she said. The kids giggled at the spectacle, and I ended up buying the scarf because I’m a sucker, the kids were cute and filthy, and their floor was made of dirt. The headscarf is actually illegal in all public buildings (to include schools) in Turkey thanks to Ataturk. The more traditional country folks still wear them where they are allowed.
The hotel booked us a table at an expensive restaurant with starched linens and stuffy waiters. The menu had schnitzel and cordon bleu and other European dishes at European prices. We kindly excused ourselves. We found a cave restaurant with a balcony, and settled in to seriously cheap and seriously good soup, dolma, and chicken while the storm raged around us. The waiter was friendly and gracious with a wonderful smile and apologized for EVERYTHING. I think sorry was one of the few words he knew in English. The owner was the proud cook and danced for all of us, the other patrons were German and being German (which is entertaining all by itself), and the owner’s wife was plump and jolly. We all sat for a long time, both because it was such a pleasant place, and because the rain was torrential and the lighting frighteningly close. My friend showed me how to read fortunes in grounds on the bottom of your Turkish coffee, so we all gave it shot. Our waiter looked at Ellis’s and said “ooohhhh, scorpion!!!” “WOW!” We exclaimed back, pretending to see it too. Then we asked him what that meant. “Sorry” was the reply.
Our last day we rose late, and Ellis got a shave on the patio from a man in a Fez named Mustafa. Then we slowly wound our way back to Ankara through the Martian looking rock formations that look a bit like pink meringue. The lower layers of volcanic rock are just tightly packed ash, so weather faster than the upper layers of actual stone. The end result is a formation the shape of a traffic cone with a hat on, or sometimes a shape just downright phallic. Either way, its pretty darn cool. We spent the last night in Ankara before heading back home.
I’ll be spending a lot more time in Turkey, both because I have to, and because I want to.
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