Turkey

This is an attempt to recapture the 45 days I spent in the country of Turkey in the Winter of 1983. I had written extensively in journals about this time period, but have been unable to locate my journals, so I am left with my memory.

As I have been recollecting this journey, so many small memories have appeared. At that time, cell phones weren’t a thing, so of course I was not communicating regularly with anybody far away. I was not taking photos of what I was seeing. I had purchased a nice 35mm Yashica camera, but during my travels, rarely used it because it seemed so unnatural to take it out of its large protective bag. It was not a spontaneous thing. In fact, I had taken only around a dozen photos in months. For that reason, I decided to sell it in Istanbul. I recall walking into a shop and taking what was offered. Actually felt good to offload it. Carrying it around the world and not using it seemed dubious. I was writing postcards frequently. That was my mode of keeping in touch with family and friends. The postcards would take many weeks and sometimes months to arrive. An old fashioned way of communicating. No emojis.

I journaled every day. I wrote extensively. I believe that by then end of my 14 months of travel I had seven or eight journals. Unfortunately, I have only been able to recover about five of them. I feel like my best writing is lost. Oh well.

It was late January of 1983. I had been working in a small town called Drapanias on the Island of Crete in Greece harvesting olives. Strolling around Athens, I found a very inexpensive flight from Athens to Istanbul and thought, “Why not?” 

I had been travelling very economically for several months and my usuals means of transportation were walking, hitchhiking, buses, trains or boats. A flight seemed like a great change. Unfortunately the flight didn’t depart until early the next day. So, I spent the night in the airport in Athens. Exhausting as I recall, but I was rewarded with a sunrise above the puffy white clouds on the flight to Istanbul. To this day, I often think of how magnificent the light was. I remember orange and yellow brilliantly shining above the clouds and the plane seemed to be cruising on top of the clouds that looked like smooth cotton balls. How lucky could I be!  

Arriving in Istanbul felt other worldly. It was not a tourist mecca at the time and very much a developing country. I had never seen anything even remotely like it. Minarets from the mosques punctuating the skyline. The call to prayer five times per day. I had never been in a predominantly muslim country. Greek was a language that was very foreign to me and Turkish was also. The atmosphere felt different. It was cold, smokey and people dressed primarily in dark clothing. It was a male dominated society. In some small towns it was rare to see females circulating.

This was all so new to me. It was almost as if I stepped through a door into an entirely different existence and of course, nobody knew I was there because I couldn’t communicate with anybody. Something about that sensation is desirable to me. It was an adventure that would be hard to accomplish in the modern era with instantaneous communication wherever we go. We connect to wifi the minute we enter an airport to communicate with people or just use our phone service from home. Ironically, if one were to attempt to make a phone call it would have been extremely expensive and difficult to arrange, whereas today it is easy and inexpensive.

I was 23 years old at the time, taking the trip of a lifetime. It was that indeed. When I arrived in Istanbul, I was of course very tired. I had been up for over 24 hours. People would find it hard to believe, but the “airport” where I landed was a blacktop tarmac and the building was a green military canvas covering. The tarmac had dozens of military men toting what appeared to be machine guns. Not something I was used to seeing. Things were definitely under the control of the military. When I arrived to Istanbul, it was much the same, with very young men carrying weapons on most streets.

The drive in from the airport to town was something I will never forget. The sky was smoky. The skyline was magical, with the sunrise still occurring with the backdrop of majestic mosques and their minarets, which at that point in my life had never seen. It felt a little bit like going back in time as we passed donkeys pulling carts along the highway.

I don’t recall at all how I chose where to stay that night, but I ended up staying there for 13 days. I kept track of stuff like that back then. I was near the Galata Tower, which I will have to write about later. I was starving, so I went out into the street and found a Turkish sweet shop. I had no concept of Turkish food, but bought a large box of Baklava, probably intended for at least a dozen people. Sticky and sweet with honey, I ate the entire box before dozing off and then waking up with a tremendous stomachache. The poor judgment of youth. I was hungry.

As I recall, I stayed upstairs in the hotel and when I would come down, the men present were always friendly and would greet me. “Iyi Gunler!” and so on. I eventually became pretty proficient in Turkish as I studied a few hours daily. At the time, in the sort of lobby area of the hotel, they would frequently gather to watch the TV drama, “Dallas.” I got the impression they thought all of the USA was like that and wanted to talk with me about it. One of the interesting things about my interactions with them is that as the days wore on, they began to embrace me and kiss me on the cheek as they did there. That was an unusual experience for me and I don’t recall if I reciprocated. Reminds me a little bit of rubbing noses in the UAE, which I always thought was pretty cool.

I had read a lot of European and World History for months leading up to this trip. Still, I was just beginning my education in relationship to geopolitics. Turkey, a country that I had not given a lot of thought was at the center of the geopolitical storm of that time. It was 1983 and the Cold War between Russia and the USA was intense. Russia was at war in Afghanistan and Turkey was assisting the USA, hosting nuclear and military sites. They had been a member of NATO since 1952. The Berlin Wall, which I would see later in my travels was still intact.

When you look at where Turkey is located geographically, aligning with the USA was pretty brave as Turkey borders with Russia and is right across the Black sea from them. I saw huge Russian military ships cruise past Istanbul when I was there. In 1983, the countries bordering Turkey were Bulgaria, Iraq, Iran, Syria and the Soviet Union. Since that time, Georgia and Azerbaijan have been created in the Northeastern area adjacent to Turkey.  Turkey also had a very heated relationship with Greece that goes back a long time. They had battled over the gorgeous islands in the Mediterranean and actually share the island country of Cyprus now. I don’t say it lightly, but the people of Greece and Turkey truly hated each other. That upset me, as the people of both countries had treated me kindly. The weird thing to me was that the people of both countries looked very similar and shared traditions such as drinking Turkish or Greek coffee with the grinds in the bottom of the cup. The politicians in both countries knew that they could always distract their populations from domestic shortcomings by talking about their nearby enemy. Sad stuff.

Modern Turkey was established by a guy named Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, who truly seems like a larger than life figure. He wanted to modernize and westernize Turkey. One of the radical things he did was change their alphabet from Arabic characters to latinized characters. I was thankful for that as I learned Turkish. I had a phrase book and a dictionary that I studiously employed for hours each day. He wanted a secular country. He also did not like the idea of people idolizing their leaders, which is ironic, because photos and paintings of him were displayed in pretty much any building I entered.

Turkey is truly the bridge between the East and the West, physically and otherwise. A small part of the country is located in Europe and the larger part across the water in Asia. A crossroads indeed. All of this adds up to a very interesting place. At that time, the population of Turkey was around 48 million and it is now estimated to be around 86 million.

The country is around 98 percent muslim with around 70 percent being Sunni and 25 % Shia. The role of women in Turkey has evolved like in most parts of the world. At that time, 1983, women were not participating in the workforce as much as men, had fewer legal rights, were not pursuing higher education as much and so on. Istanbul was more modern than much of the country, but when you were in smaller towns, one rarely saw women walking about on their own.

I recall some specifics from my days there and some generalities. The skies were smoky because anything and everything was burnt to produce heat. Plastic, whatever. It was a cold January. I recall my first day walking towards the Galata Bridge to cross to the other side. There were these unstaffed plastic boxes with stacks of what looked like pretzels. If anybody took one, they would deposit a certain number of Turkish Lira. For me it was remarkable that people were trustworthy enough to operate in that manner.

Much of my daily routine included drinking tea, coffee or a cinnamon drink called, “tarchin” I believe, in the teahouses (cayevi) that were built into the structure of the bridge that crossed to the other side of Istanbul. It was marvelous.

At first it was very intimidating because entering the tea house, you saw a smoke filled room with only men and all dressed in dark colors. Very deceptive as they were as friendly and approachable as can be. I would sit down and practice whatever vocabulary I was working on and they were so hospitable that I could just say “fork” or “spoon” and they made me feel like a long lost friend.

The Turkish coffee was brewed in such away that it produced a very small cup of coffee, with grinds left at the bottom of the very small sized cup. I learned to nurse those small cups for a great while and of course included a lot of sugar. They certainly provided me lots of energy for walking many  miles through Istanbul and that is what I did daily.

I honestly don’t recall much about the different routes I took. I remember trying to head in different directions to explore new neighborhoods. One neighborhood had a Turkish Airlines (Turk Hava Yolari?). I can’t recall exactly why I entered their offices to talk with them, but there was a very charming young lady that worked there and I had to keep making excuses to come back and see her.  

Each day when I would visit, they would summon their “coffee/tea” person to go pick up drinks for us next door. I would sit and talk with them and drink whatever was served. At some point, I got the young lady’s phone number, but had no idea how to proceed because at that time, you didn’t just hang out with the opposite sex there.

Back at the hotel, they advised me that one of her family members would have to be with her if we went anywhere and they encouraged me to call her. All I remember is being anxious as can be and saying something like, “Gezmek Istiyorsonuz?”  Remarkable that I can remember that 45 years later. I think it means something like do you want to go look around. Ultimately, I think I hung up because I couldn’t understand anything and was terrified. The guys at the hotel had a great laugh. She will live on in my mind as one of the prettiest women I have ever met.

In that same neighborhood I needed to use a restroom. It was a pretty poor neighborhood, so it wasn’t like there were public restrooms. I asked around and was directed to this delapidated plywood door. It was dark inside, but in the floor there were two small islands for your feet and a hole in the floor. I understood what that meant. Fortunately I had brought a little toilet paper. There was a rusted coffee can full of dark water nearby. I assumed it was for rinsing the hole in the floor, but later was convinced it was for rinsing your hand off after using your hand to wipe your rear end. Pretty disgusting. I also learned that people were to use their left hand and there was something about the evil left hand. You weren’t supposed to touch people with that hand. Little did I know how many people I had probably made uncomfortable. Love those quirks of travel. 

One incident that sticks out in my mind was an interaction with a man who was changing money on the street. He was a shifty character who gave the air that he was definitely doing something illegal somehow. Being the somewhat risk taker I am, I did not shy away, but talked with him. The exchange rate he was going to give me was better than in the banks, so I thought I should give it a shot. He had me go behind a barrier in a nearby lot to do the transaction. He became a bit shaky and agitated as the transaction took place. It wasn’t a ton of money. As I recall, maybe twenty or forty dollars, which of course was a lot more then. I don’t recall the specific details, but by some slight of hand he had given me a different, smaller denomination of cash, hidden behind a larger bill. We had exchanged the money and he quickly exited. When I realized what had occurred I chased him down and threatened to do him damage. I was much bigger than him and somehow, I got my money back and I believe I kept a little more than I should. A bit unnerving and adrenaline producing. I have never tried black market currency exchange since. Funny.

One of the things I did while there was buy a bunch of copper and brass stuff and a coffee cup set. I ended up sending it home to my parents via the mail system. It remarkably arrived, but I think months later. I found all that stuff so exotic.

I felt like I could have stayed in Istanbul forever. It felt like home, but I knew I needed to keep my journey moving, so I started to plot my next moves. As I recall, my first venture outside Istanbul was to take in “Troy” and  Canakkale, visiting the battlefields of Gallipoli, which later was the basis of a movie. The two places could not be more contrasting in interest.

Troy or “Truva” I think it was called was the from the Odyssey or the Iliad. I expected to find a city with walls or something. Instead there were some barely visible foundations and a fake wooden horse. The hard part was that it was difficult to get there off of the main road.

Gallipoli was one of the more moving experiences I have had in my travel life. I had been reading all about World War I and World War II, so I was somewhat knowledgeable of the wars. I had to hitch a ride with a farmer and his tractor to arrive. I think I was standing on a bar behind his seat. Very uncomfortable. I arrived at a somewhat overgrown cemetery with brown grass and a heavy fog lying over the graves. The battle of Gallipoli involved sending scores of men up a steep embankment on a futile mission. I read each of the epitaphs in the graveyard and nobody else was there. Most were ANZAC as I recall. Australians and New Zealanders. I highly recommend watching the movie Gallipoli if you get the chance. The senselessness of wars never seems to change.

At the time I was in Istanbul, the Cold War was in full swing and Turkey was in a highly strategic location. Russian ships would come out from the Black Sea and sail nearby. Part of Turkey is located in Europe and part in Asia. Very much a crossroads in the world.

The bus system in Turkey was exceptional at the time. I can see large yards of colorful buses in my mind and there always seemed to be a bus going to where I needed to go. That is how I got around Turkey. The buses typically had a worker that would go down the aisles and provide cologne for you to refresh your face. Unfortunately, it seemed like about 90 percent of the population would smoke on these bus rides. I always felt ill by the end of a trip.

One of the first places I went to outside of Istanbul was Izmir. I knew nothing about Izmir. It is a coastal city and I believe there was a US military base there. I arrived on a dark road in the night somewhere outside of the town. I was going to take a taxi, but I felt like they were asking too much for the fare, so I decided to walk. I was tired, it was dark and I came into what did not feel like a welcoming city. Poorly lit. I was asking around for places to stay and could not find anywhere. Finally, there was a rundown place that offered a cheap place to stay. It was very late, so I figured I could sleep anywhere. I believe it was housing migrant workers. When I entered, I could see several floors of rooms and many men milling about. I was an oddity, so they were all looking at me. I went to a room with a plywood door and no lock on it. I was unnerved by that situation. 

Outside in the courtyard between all of the rooms it sounded like commotion with many men talking loudly. I felt very vulnerable. I ended up stacking my backpack and a chair against the unsecured door and tried to sleep with the lights on in my sleeping bag. The sheets on the bed did not seem clean. I made it through the night and was determined to get out of the city in the morning.

The next day I went to a beach town called, “Kushadasi.” It was a pleasant place on the mediterranean and I remember a kind young man that worked there. We would talk and he would explain things about the city, Turkey and so on. I don’t remember much beyond walking around town a bit. 

I don’t entirely remember the sequence of my next stops, but I would go on to Ephesus, Didym, Aphrodisias, Pamukkale and Antalya. Ephesus, which is highly frequented now, was unknown to me. It is just down the street from where the “virgin” mary gave birth to Jesus. I went to that place. I believe it was in Selchuk. As I type this, memories are coming back to me. I was hiking up a hill between small huts of houses and was asked to drink tea in one near to where Jesus was supposedly born. Any time I think of people believing that a “virgin” gave birth, it reminds me of how irrational humans are and helps explain why the world is such a mess. Sorry if I have offended, but that is what my mind does. Ephesus was very impressive. One could almost imagine the ancients living and walking along the grand boulevards of stone.

Didym, I came to on a very cold night and found a small, cold room to stay on. I recall some large, ancient columns and how absolutely cold I was, even wrapped up in bed. The joys of travelling back then.

Pamukkale I can hardly recall except for being fascinated by the beautiful natural hot springs. I honestly can’t recall if I even got in the water anywhere.

Aphrodisias was a place that really hit me. I got dropped off on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere it seemed and wandered over to the ruins. Nobody was there. It had been uncovered relatively recently. I imagine now, almost 50 years later, it is a highly frequented tourist location. What left the deepest impression on me was the hippodrome, the long stadium where races used to occur. In amongst the vegetation I could almost take my mind back to such ancient activities. Pretty cool. But then it was always…..now how do I get myself out of here? How do I get transportation.

Antalya was next ….From what I understand it is a fancy coastal town now. It was an ok place then, but nothing luxurious. I do not remember where I  stayed, but I remember going to a Turkish bath or Hamam as they call it. When entering, you are given a room for changing. Then I walked into a very steamy, foggy room that had circular tile areas that you could sit on. Being American, I just sat down naked, thinking little of it. I had a towel, but thought it was for afterward. When I returned to my changing room, there was a knock on the door and somebody was offering tea. I said, “sure,” but I then realized that they were a bit shocked by my open nudity. I wonder how many stupid things I did back then without knowing?

As I made my way further inland and to the East, I stopped in Konya, which is famous for its whirling dervishes. A dance of some significance that I should look up. I don’t remember much beyond sitting in the hotel watching TV with some older gentleman and Frank Sinatra appearing on the screen singing, “New York.” Odd the things that one remembers.

From there it was more buses, taking me to central Turkey and the townof Nevshehir, which is the gateway to the now famous Capadoccia, where people take hot balloon rides over the magical land formations below. Nevshehir was a great respite for me. I found what appeared to be a five star hotel that was charging only  $5.00 per night. I couldn’t believe it. The room even had a tub! I eventually found it hard to leave that town. It was February and there was snow on the ground. I trudged around each day,  always coming back to the hotel for a soak. I was going to stay a couple of days and it ended up being a week. I went to Goreme and Urgup where the dwellings from the great Crusades I believe were. Underground dwellings that went down several floors. I went into one of those, but the ceilings were so low that it made me nervous. I guess people were smaller then?

I had some interesting experiences in that town. One time when I was walking down the street, I saw summoned into what looked like a bar. When I entered, the floorboard opened up to a basement and I was being asked to go down the stairs. The stairs led into what was a rooster fight ring. It was raucous. It seemed illegal, but  I don’t know if it was. I recall watching a little, but not my thing at all. The only other time I have viewed such a spectacle is when my father in law dragged me to a rural roosterfight in the Dominican Republic. Pretty repulsive.

One of the days I was there, I was walking through some winding streets up to the top of a hill. A  large (bigger than me), imposing man with a large head started speaking to me. He spoke a little French. He was coming very close to me physically and seemed to be asking me if I had any pornographic magazines or something a bit odd. I was uncomfortable. It was dark and cold. I kept walking and tried to let him know I did not want to talk with him, but he persisted. We came to one little house and he wanted me to come in. At that point I tried to express to him in no uncertain terms that he needed to leave me alone and I probably said some very unkind things.

Suddenly three generations of women came out of the house and some beautiful children. He wanted me to join his family for something. I realized I had misjudged him and felt ashamed. 

We entered the house and he and I sat at the honored seat and his wife and mother served us. I tried to serve them coffee at one point, but I could tell that was culturally very uncomfortable. They seemed to enjoy the visit a lot. His young children sat next to me and were fascinated by the Velcro on the sleeves of my REI Gore-tex coat. They repeatedly attached and ripped apart the Velcro.

The next day, their extended family of around 15 people invited me to join them at a tailor shop as they were preparing for a wedding. I felt quite honored and reflected on how I had rejected the man’s attempt to befriend me.  It is easy to feel vulnerable traveling and in a very foreign setting. During that era, there weren’t many like me about.

I was in Istanbul for 13 days at the beginning of my time in Turkey and then travelled about the country for 27 days before returning to Istanbul again. That, I remember. I returned to the same hotel I had stayed at previously near the Galata Tower and wandered the streets for another five days. I didn’t really want to leave, as I felt like it had become a second home of sorts, but I had to make my way up to Norway for a job I had lined up on a pig farm. It was now late February. Still cold.

A very interesting thing happened to me one day in a book store. I met a mother and her daughter who seemed unusually sociable. The daughter wanted to practice English, so of course I participated in that. She was a different human being. Apparently, from what I gathered, she possessed some mystical power, having the ability to speak to past figures, a channeling of sorts. She did have a mystical air about her, but I didn’t think too much of it at the time. We exchanged contact information and vowed to write, and we did over the years. The correspondence eventually faded. Sometime around 2007, I thought of her and was able to look her up. Indeed, she was a famous, mystical person. I was able to read all about her and I believe we did correspond briefly on Facebook. I cannot recall her name now and don’t have the scrap of paper or address book I had her name in, but I really should try to figure that out again. 

I entered Turkey feeling like it was an ethereal place and left on a similar note. 

I had arranged for a bus ride that would take me from Istanbul to Austria via Bulgaria and Yugoslavia (no longer a country). As I recall it was about a 24 hour trip ending in Graz, Austria. In Istanbul, I had gone to a pharmacy and asked if they had something that would help me sleep during the bus ride. A small boy worked the counter and he provided me some pills. I don’t know what they were. Anyway, once on the bus I did take them. They must have been some form of very powerful sedative. I woke up laying in the aisle of the bus with people walking over me. I was completely out of it.

When we entered Sofia, Bulgaria, we were all commanded to go outside the bus and line up on the side of the highway with our luggage. I was half conscious. Bulgaria was behind the Iron Curtain of the Soviet Union. The soldiers inspecting us carried weapons and acted tough. All of our belongings were inspected. It was a dark night. Bizarre experience.

I don’t recall much of the bus ride, but recall one odd event. We stopped alongside the road near a field in Yugoslavia. One of the assistants ran off the bus and went behind a barn like structure in the field. I assumed he was going to urinate. However, as he came back around the building he was pulling up his pants with a big grin on his face. Behind him was a disheveled looking woman. I wonder to this day what actually took place.

Arriving in Graz, I made the second of the only two calls home I was to make in 14 months. I called my parents from a telephone booth. They informed me that I was to report to Rakkestad, Norway for the job on the pig farm by April first. 

Another adventure awaiting