Turkey Day! (two)
Before we begin: I have written a short story, and I don't know if it's any good. I would very much like some feedback- it doesn't matter who you are. If you'd like to read it, leave me an email address in a comment so I can send it to you.
And off we go!
I woke up in the night, and wondered where I was. This is not something that usually happens to me. Even less frequently is the answer "A hotel in Pergamon", so I thought I'd mention it. I nevertheless had no trouble falling asleep again. Sarah had promised to wake me up at eight.
Sarah, displaying a callous disregard for human kindness that I would never have expected from her, had the nerve to actually wake me up at eight. I was as surprised by this as you are, but it turns out they actually have an eight AM, too. Crazy. Anyway, we got dressed and wandered out to the part of the house which was restaurant-shaped, and got breakfast. Breakfast involved tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, butter, cheese, olives, and jelly. It was delicious. Sarah revealed to me that she didn't like tomatoes. I should point out here that the tomatoes here are better than back home, and she still didn't like them. I looked around for reflective surfaces, to see if she had a reflection, but none were available. I suppose she wouldn't have been able to get up so early, though, if she were a vampire. Still, I was on my guard.
We walked from the hotel up to the acropolis. Actually, we walked most of the way, when a Turkish guy pulled over to give us a ride. I figured, what the heck? We had good luck so far. He introduced us to his girlfriend, who lived in Japan, but was visiting (weird), and invited us to his store to see how Turks produced silk; we had to decline. He told us the ride would be twenty dollars, laughed a little harder than appropriate, and dropped us off.
The acropolis at Pergamon is gigantic. It has enormous amounts of ruins preserved, from a whole bunch of different periods. The signs left something to be desired, so we practiced our archeology skills to identify things.
Sarah: This looks like it was some kind of stoa- see the columns bordering it? And over here was probably a temple, because that looks like it might have been an altar...
Me: Yes! And that, over there, was probably cow poop.
There were also a great many ancient cows on and around the acropolis. Personally, I didn't trust them. I couldn't see any way that cows could have walked up there- I had enough trouble doing it myself. I think they're building helicopters or something. Farmers, be warned.
There is literally a TON of stuff preserved up there. I will post pictures later, as soon as my camera reveals to me where our cleaning lady put it. But the best thing you can do is try to find an article or something, because I could take all day and not describe it all.
We came down from the acropolis, and bought some lunch. This consisted of a cheese and bread sort of thing which was not as good as a Greek tyropita, but was still OK. Then we headed for the Asclepion, which was right next to an army camp. Our guidebook warned us not to take pictures towards the camp. It turned out to be surrounded by men with machine guns. This made me nervous. I sort of nodded to them, as if to say "Boy, I sure am enjoying this nice day and not being Greek!" I am not sure they understood.
We circled most of the army camp looking for the entrance to the Asclepion. Before we got there we found a friendly Turkish man. He offered to show us the entrance, so we followed him. It turned out the entrance was a hole ripped in a chain-link fence. We walked hesitantly through it after him, and he pointed towards the site. Then, he made the universal gesture for money, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.
It was now apparent that we were being taken for a ride. I became filled with righteous anger, and stepped forward, to handle the situation. He was about my size, and probably not in as good shape as I was. I resolved to show him how real American men solved their problems. I feinted left... then right...
Then I gave him ten lira. He asked for twenty. I told him no. He went away. We walked over to the ticket office, by the legitimate entrance, bought legitimate tickets, and went in.
OK, here's the skinny on Asclepius. He was the son of Apollo and raised by the centaur Chiron, who was a master healer. Consequently, Asclepius became a minor god of healing, and was said to have helped out the Greeks in the Trojan war. An Asclepion was a sanctuary area to him which was part hospital, part gymnasium. You would go and sleep there, and he would come to you in a dream and diagnose you, and then you'd exercise and follow his prescriptions and get better. He came heavily into vogue around Athens in the late fifth century. This was because most of the people of the Attic region was packed inside the city due to the Peloponnesian War, and a plague broke out which wiped out fully two thirds of the population. We got to see all the cool sleeping places, and medical facilities, which were somewhat diminished for me because I was still mad about that Turkish guy.
Anyway, we stopped by the souvenir shop and I used my savvy bargaining skills, though I can't say for what, because it was something for one of YOU. Then we headed to the good old Ottogar, to catch a bus for Ephesus. Obviously we could not catch a bus to Ephesus. Ephesus is in fact exclusively an ancient city, three kilometers from Selcuk (SELL chook, rhymes with book), the modern city. We asked for a bus there. Of course, this didn't matter too much, as there was no bus there, either. We were going to have to go to Izmir.
Our bus didn't leave for half an hour, which gave me time to go look for some food. I just needed something quick, and relatively healthy which would give me energy for the rest of the day, our second long day in a row. Thirty minutes, four lira, and an entire bag of Turkish Delight later, we were on our way to Izmir. I liked Turkish delight. This will be relevant later.
I interrupt this narrative to tell you that someone just played taps on a bugle outside my window. I am reminded of summer camp at Arlington Echo, long ago. I miss my home, but I am going to miss this town, as well. I suppose, though, that if you leave behind things you miss everywhere you go, you're probably doing something right.
Anyway, before we get to Selcuk, I should tell you something about Ephesus. Ephesus was a remarkably significant ancient city. It was a big Greek town, and was very popular with the Romans under the Emperors Hadrian and Trajan (we ran into these guys a lot in Turkey), and all over Greece. There was a cult to Artemis there, which emphasized her fertility; the Ephesian Artemis is a great indicator of the way the Greek and Roman Pantheon just absorbed other traditions, because she looks completely different from western representations of Artemis the huntress. The most striking thing about Artemis of Ephesus is that she has all these little ball shaped things all over her chest, and no one knows what they are- breasts, testicles, fruits, and seeds have all been suggested, as representations of her fertility.
It has often occurred to me to erect shrines to completely random household objects, or to build bizarre figurines in order to confuse the heck out of future archaeologists. With literacy and the internet and all, I doubt it would work today, but I can't help but wonder if this is the real explanation for the Ephesian Artemis. Anyway, there's also a huge basilica of St. John, who preached there in the first century B.C. He was supposed to have lived out his years there with Mary- yes, that Mary. He also wrote his gospel and letters there. St. Paul also preached there but famously got run out of the city for saying that the silver figures of Artemis were not divine. Interestingly, he was run out at the behest of the silversmiths.
Anyway, a few transfers later, we got off the bus in Selcuk. I do not know what I was expecting. What I was certainly not expecting was that a very clearly Turkish man would walk right up to us and say, as if he just walked out of the outback, "G'day, mate!" Naturally this is what happened. He offered to show us his hotel. Immediately, I was on guard- he was clearly trying to sell us a hotel room for the night, and I wasn't going to fall for it.
Then I remembered that what we were looking for, was, in fact, a hotel room for the night. We followed him about a block away, to the "Boomerang Guest House." He chatted with us the whole way, in what I would like to say was perfect English, except that he had such a heavy Australian accent that I kept expecting him to start hunting crocodiles.
I should emphasize that this guy was NOT Australian. It later turned out that a great many people in Selcuk spoke English with a heavy Australian accent; most of them had learned it from listening, and the bulk of their tourists are, for some reason, Australian. It involves ANZAC day, which has something to do with World War II, which is not an area of history I am as familiar with as I should be. Look it up if you want.
Anyway, we decided to get a room at the guest house. It was twenty euros per night, per person. This, we found out, included: A delicious homemade breakfast, selected from a menu; recommendations of restaurants; the use of the hotel's guidebook to Ephesus and the other sites; rides to and from the ancient sites; and a ride to the harbor city a few kilometers away, where our tickets out to Samos had also been arranged for us (we had to pay for the tickets of course, but not the rides).
People are friendly, in Turkey. They will turn their lives upside down for you.
We went out to get some dinner. I had lamb chops. Sarah had pizza. She also made friends with a cat. She did this by sharing her pizza. After dinner, we strolled around for a bit and then were accosted by a young man and his friend, who were sitting outside his shop playing backgammon. He wanted us to come hang out with him and have some tea. I was immediately on guard again, but everyone else had been so nice that I figured it couldn't hurt. We sat down, got some tea, and started chatting.
I think that when a complete stranger does something completely nice for you, you can only really trust them if you see how it benefits them. This isn't as cynical as it sounds. Maybe they're trying to feel good about themselves, like I imagine our impromptu drivers were; maybe they want to chat with you because they think you're fun, like I imagine the man at the gas station was the day before. Or maybe they stand to gain some business, like our hotel owner. But with this guy, I couldn't see anything yet. And so I was nervous. Sarah did not seem to be.
We chatted about where we were from, what we were doing, etc. We asked him questions about Turkey. He taught us to play backgammon. The whole time, I wasn't sure what he was getting out of this. Then he asked if we were a couple.
Ah.
Now, don't get me wrong, this guy seems to have genuinely been a nice guy, and just legitimately interested. But in cards and in life, you don't win by risking everything you have for relatively little return. So I didn't know how to answer. Sarah told him we weren't. Once he had established this, he got more and more flirty. Sarah didn't respond to it, and pretended not to notice, which I would think would be a good strategy for getting him to give up.
He told us about how he would be working at a hotel soon, and how he needed a girl to greet people at the counter. Sarah, jokingly, said she'd stay in Turkey to do it, since we liked it there so much. He told her that, in all seriousness, she could have the job. Now, this sounded like a great opportunity, but she wasn't sure her visa would work out, and was pretty sure her parents wouldn't go for it. He offered to show us the hotel.
Now, I am perhaps overly cynical, but I really REALLY didn't want to go anywhere with him that was not a well-lit street. He seemed like a very nice guy, and I can't give any more explanation for it; I just didn't trust him. I announced that I was too tired to go anywhere, and that we should probably go back to the hotel, so we could get up early the next day. I think everyone present knew what I was really saying, but that was probably for the best. We said goodnight, and he told us to come find him again the next night. Sarah agreed, and we left. On the way home, I told her I was OK with hanging out with him again, but I REALLY didn't want to go anywhere with him. She agreed. We went back to the hotel and went to bed.
And off we go!
I woke up in the night, and wondered where I was. This is not something that usually happens to me. Even less frequently is the answer "A hotel in Pergamon", so I thought I'd mention it. I nevertheless had no trouble falling asleep again. Sarah had promised to wake me up at eight.
Sarah, displaying a callous disregard for human kindness that I would never have expected from her, had the nerve to actually wake me up at eight. I was as surprised by this as you are, but it turns out they actually have an eight AM, too. Crazy. Anyway, we got dressed and wandered out to the part of the house which was restaurant-shaped, and got breakfast. Breakfast involved tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, butter, cheese, olives, and jelly. It was delicious. Sarah revealed to me that she didn't like tomatoes. I should point out here that the tomatoes here are better than back home, and she still didn't like them. I looked around for reflective surfaces, to see if she had a reflection, but none were available. I suppose she wouldn't have been able to get up so early, though, if she were a vampire. Still, I was on my guard.
We walked from the hotel up to the acropolis. Actually, we walked most of the way, when a Turkish guy pulled over to give us a ride. I figured, what the heck? We had good luck so far. He introduced us to his girlfriend, who lived in Japan, but was visiting (weird), and invited us to his store to see how Turks produced silk; we had to decline. He told us the ride would be twenty dollars, laughed a little harder than appropriate, and dropped us off.
The acropolis at Pergamon is gigantic. It has enormous amounts of ruins preserved, from a whole bunch of different periods. The signs left something to be desired, so we practiced our archeology skills to identify things.
Sarah: This looks like it was some kind of stoa- see the columns bordering it? And over here was probably a temple, because that looks like it might have been an altar...
Me: Yes! And that, over there, was probably cow poop.
There were also a great many ancient cows on and around the acropolis. Personally, I didn't trust them. I couldn't see any way that cows could have walked up there- I had enough trouble doing it myself. I think they're building helicopters or something. Farmers, be warned.
There is literally a TON of stuff preserved up there. I will post pictures later, as soon as my camera reveals to me where our cleaning lady put it. But the best thing you can do is try to find an article or something, because I could take all day and not describe it all.
We came down from the acropolis, and bought some lunch. This consisted of a cheese and bread sort of thing which was not as good as a Greek tyropita, but was still OK. Then we headed for the Asclepion, which was right next to an army camp. Our guidebook warned us not to take pictures towards the camp. It turned out to be surrounded by men with machine guns. This made me nervous. I sort of nodded to them, as if to say "Boy, I sure am enjoying this nice day and not being Greek!" I am not sure they understood.
We circled most of the army camp looking for the entrance to the Asclepion. Before we got there we found a friendly Turkish man. He offered to show us the entrance, so we followed him. It turned out the entrance was a hole ripped in a chain-link fence. We walked hesitantly through it after him, and he pointed towards the site. Then, he made the universal gesture for money, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.
It was now apparent that we were being taken for a ride. I became filled with righteous anger, and stepped forward, to handle the situation. He was about my size, and probably not in as good shape as I was. I resolved to show him how real American men solved their problems. I feinted left... then right...
Then I gave him ten lira. He asked for twenty. I told him no. He went away. We walked over to the ticket office, by the legitimate entrance, bought legitimate tickets, and went in.
OK, here's the skinny on Asclepius. He was the son of Apollo and raised by the centaur Chiron, who was a master healer. Consequently, Asclepius became a minor god of healing, and was said to have helped out the Greeks in the Trojan war. An Asclepion was a sanctuary area to him which was part hospital, part gymnasium. You would go and sleep there, and he would come to you in a dream and diagnose you, and then you'd exercise and follow his prescriptions and get better. He came heavily into vogue around Athens in the late fifth century. This was because most of the people of the Attic region was packed inside the city due to the Peloponnesian War, and a plague broke out which wiped out fully two thirds of the population. We got to see all the cool sleeping places, and medical facilities, which were somewhat diminished for me because I was still mad about that Turkish guy.
Anyway, we stopped by the souvenir shop and I used my savvy bargaining skills, though I can't say for what, because it was something for one of YOU. Then we headed to the good old Ottogar, to catch a bus for Ephesus. Obviously we could not catch a bus to Ephesus. Ephesus is in fact exclusively an ancient city, three kilometers from Selcuk (SELL chook, rhymes with book), the modern city. We asked for a bus there. Of course, this didn't matter too much, as there was no bus there, either. We were going to have to go to Izmir.
Our bus didn't leave for half an hour, which gave me time to go look for some food. I just needed something quick, and relatively healthy which would give me energy for the rest of the day, our second long day in a row. Thirty minutes, four lira, and an entire bag of Turkish Delight later, we were on our way to Izmir. I liked Turkish delight. This will be relevant later.
I interrupt this narrative to tell you that someone just played taps on a bugle outside my window. I am reminded of summer camp at Arlington Echo, long ago. I miss my home, but I am going to miss this town, as well. I suppose, though, that if you leave behind things you miss everywhere you go, you're probably doing something right.
Anyway, before we get to Selcuk, I should tell you something about Ephesus. Ephesus was a remarkably significant ancient city. It was a big Greek town, and was very popular with the Romans under the Emperors Hadrian and Trajan (we ran into these guys a lot in Turkey), and all over Greece. There was a cult to Artemis there, which emphasized her fertility; the Ephesian Artemis is a great indicator of the way the Greek and Roman Pantheon just absorbed other traditions, because she looks completely different from western representations of Artemis the huntress. The most striking thing about Artemis of Ephesus is that she has all these little ball shaped things all over her chest, and no one knows what they are- breasts, testicles, fruits, and seeds have all been suggested, as representations of her fertility.
It has often occurred to me to erect shrines to completely random household objects, or to build bizarre figurines in order to confuse the heck out of future archaeologists. With literacy and the internet and all, I doubt it would work today, but I can't help but wonder if this is the real explanation for the Ephesian Artemis. Anyway, there's also a huge basilica of St. John, who preached there in the first century B.C. He was supposed to have lived out his years there with Mary- yes, that Mary. He also wrote his gospel and letters there. St. Paul also preached there but famously got run out of the city for saying that the silver figures of Artemis were not divine. Interestingly, he was run out at the behest of the silversmiths.
Anyway, a few transfers later, we got off the bus in Selcuk. I do not know what I was expecting. What I was certainly not expecting was that a very clearly Turkish man would walk right up to us and say, as if he just walked out of the outback, "G'day, mate!" Naturally this is what happened. He offered to show us his hotel. Immediately, I was on guard- he was clearly trying to sell us a hotel room for the night, and I wasn't going to fall for it.
Then I remembered that what we were looking for, was, in fact, a hotel room for the night. We followed him about a block away, to the "Boomerang Guest House." He chatted with us the whole way, in what I would like to say was perfect English, except that he had such a heavy Australian accent that I kept expecting him to start hunting crocodiles.
I should emphasize that this guy was NOT Australian. It later turned out that a great many people in Selcuk spoke English with a heavy Australian accent; most of them had learned it from listening, and the bulk of their tourists are, for some reason, Australian. It involves ANZAC day, which has something to do with World War II, which is not an area of history I am as familiar with as I should be. Look it up if you want.
Anyway, we decided to get a room at the guest house. It was twenty euros per night, per person. This, we found out, included: A delicious homemade breakfast, selected from a menu; recommendations of restaurants; the use of the hotel's guidebook to Ephesus and the other sites; rides to and from the ancient sites; and a ride to the harbor city a few kilometers away, where our tickets out to Samos had also been arranged for us (we had to pay for the tickets of course, but not the rides).
People are friendly, in Turkey. They will turn their lives upside down for you.
We went out to get some dinner. I had lamb chops. Sarah had pizza. She also made friends with a cat. She did this by sharing her pizza. After dinner, we strolled around for a bit and then were accosted by a young man and his friend, who were sitting outside his shop playing backgammon. He wanted us to come hang out with him and have some tea. I was immediately on guard again, but everyone else had been so nice that I figured it couldn't hurt. We sat down, got some tea, and started chatting.
I think that when a complete stranger does something completely nice for you, you can only really trust them if you see how it benefits them. This isn't as cynical as it sounds. Maybe they're trying to feel good about themselves, like I imagine our impromptu drivers were; maybe they want to chat with you because they think you're fun, like I imagine the man at the gas station was the day before. Or maybe they stand to gain some business, like our hotel owner. But with this guy, I couldn't see anything yet. And so I was nervous. Sarah did not seem to be.
We chatted about where we were from, what we were doing, etc. We asked him questions about Turkey. He taught us to play backgammon. The whole time, I wasn't sure what he was getting out of this. Then he asked if we were a couple.
Ah.
Now, don't get me wrong, this guy seems to have genuinely been a nice guy, and just legitimately interested. But in cards and in life, you don't win by risking everything you have for relatively little return. So I didn't know how to answer. Sarah told him we weren't. Once he had established this, he got more and more flirty. Sarah didn't respond to it, and pretended not to notice, which I would think would be a good strategy for getting him to give up.
He told us about how he would be working at a hotel soon, and how he needed a girl to greet people at the counter. Sarah, jokingly, said she'd stay in Turkey to do it, since we liked it there so much. He told her that, in all seriousness, she could have the job. Now, this sounded like a great opportunity, but she wasn't sure her visa would work out, and was pretty sure her parents wouldn't go for it. He offered to show us the hotel.
Now, I am perhaps overly cynical, but I really REALLY didn't want to go anywhere with him that was not a well-lit street. He seemed like a very nice guy, and I can't give any more explanation for it; I just didn't trust him. I announced that I was too tired to go anywhere, and that we should probably go back to the hotel, so we could get up early the next day. I think everyone present knew what I was really saying, but that was probably for the best. We said goodnight, and he told us to come find him again the next night. Sarah agreed, and we left. On the way home, I told her I was OK with hanging out with him again, but I REALLY didn't want to go anywhere with him. She agreed. We went back to the hotel and went to bed.