Leaving Goreme
Goreme is the eastern-most point of that part of Turkey most visited by travellers, especially those going with tour companies. The one exception is Mount Nemrut, north of Urfa, 500 km to the east, which is also heavily visited, though many will go on return tours from Goreme. Obviously, western tourists can be found in Eastern Turkey but in strikingly lower numbers, as I was to discover.
After writing my last blog, I killed a delightful few hours waiting for my bus to Kayseri strolling through the nearer of the two 'Love valleys' and swimming with my Aussie friends in a hostel pool I helped them find.
It was sad to leave the Traveller's Cave pension. Here I'd enjoyed the finest bed since the awesome one at Ohrid's Sunny Lake Hostel and spent many amused minutes watching some twin puppies fight with each other. Another striking thing was the owner. The hostel he ran was so laid back nobody seemed to care how many beers you had or whether you used the 2 lira per hour internet or for how long. He hadn't even taken the names, let alone the money, of the Aussie girls who went on the expensive Balloon tour. As I discover it's normal in Turkish hostels to pay for everything at the end, but I was right to suspect that if I hadn't admitted drinking two beers and using the internet for an hour I wouldn't have been charged. Naturally (or perhaps not?), I was tempted to overlook these debts but there was something so compelling about the gentle man's trust that forced my conscience. I wonder, though, how much money he loses in a given year through this commendably noble attitude. He also kindly gave me a book of his I was clearly coveting - an Islamic authored 'Terrorism and its Remedy' arguing that Islam seeks peace and that the UN's declaration on Human rights is compatible with the Koran. Many may disagree with that no doubt, possibly even me. For now my knowledge of Islam is too thin to comment. And I know what a flexible demon interpretation can be.
On the short bus trip to Kayseri I was treated to my second conversation with a member of the military. The jolly man to my right was in the airforce and intitally joked that it was secret when I asked what exactly he did (manufacture missiles from what I could gather). He was very friendly, though linguistically our conversation couldn't stretch as far as we wanted. My first encounter with a military man was with the driver on my Cappadocian tour the day before. Whilst the others were still strolling around the Onyx factory, I returned to the bus and sat with the silent looking man, someone I'd shamefully supposed wouldn't speak English. In fact he was friendly and fairly fluent. After some prodding he explained he'd been a tank driver in the late 90's, miming as he did the explosion of a rocket and stating with a grimace of resolution, 'PKK'(the formerly terroristic, or freedom fighting - as you will- Kurdistan Workers Party).
Arriving in Kayseri, the contrast with Cappadocia was extreme. A wild and burly energy emerged, and not a sign of written English anywhere. Clearly the rawness of the East had dawned. I had four hours to kill before my night bus to Urfa so walked into the centre. Here I saw, inevitably, another statue of Ataturk, the Turkish demi-god, this time seated on a horse, lit from below, mid-way between the main Mosque and the Hilton hotel. Ataturk, or Mustafa Kemal, was born in what is now Thessaloniki, Greece, ın the late 19th century. After rising to fame keeping the allies at bay at Gallipoli, he proceeded not only to establish but to mould and structure the new Turkish Republic, implementing a throughgoing reform of Turkish habits and lifestyle in an attempt to modernise and westernise his country and bury the old fashioned, Ottoman traditions of the past (such as the Fez!). Although Turkey's population is 98% Muslim, and religion clearly an evident concern, Turkey is resolutely secular in its constitution and governance, and its army has a proven track record of willingness to step in and flex muscle whenever Communism or, more usually, Islamism rears a threatening head. The tension between Islam and Secularism (or Laicism as it might more accurately be put - since unbelief is very rare) forms the background to the current conundrum of what to do with the Turkish presidency; namely whether to allow a man, Gull, whose wife wears a headscarf, to become the Head of State. Trivial? Essentially, no doubt. Symbolically, not at all. The head of the Army has intimated concern, and after three coups in 50 years that means alot.
Perhaps one of the reasons for their anxieties is the economic success of the country since the pro-Islamic AKP party took control of Parliament in 2002. Such economic progress, though welcome in itself, might suggest to secularists that the Islamists might inveigle themselves through a 'Trojan Horse' of economic competence into an unchallengeable position from which to introduce Islamist laws such as those seen in Iran. The AKP's man, Gull, becoming President might be seen as a step down this road. But from the look of things it doesn't look like this is the AKP's plan. Tell me, if you wanted to turn your country into a theocratic dictatorship would you, as the AKP has done, make strenuous and successful efforts to prepare your country for a possible accession to the EU; or do more to reassure your major minority group than any previous Government has done in years?
In central Kayseri it was pleasant to receive a cast off International Herald Tribune in a cafe from a departing Hilton bound American couple. It really is a good paper. I enjoyed reading about International affairs for awhile. I didn't manage to ask the couple why they were in Kayseri, if it was as adventurous travellers or on business. I suspected business.
In Goreme I'd kindly been given a strip of sedatives by a Kiwi Girl, to help me sleep on buses. I didn't catch their name or what they were for (I don't think they are sleepıng pills). But they certainly worked. Efforts to continue reading 'Millenium People' by JG Ballard were compromised within what seemed seconds of swallowing. Weary, sunken and confused were my two moments of arousal during the trip. And when I arrived ın Urfa, hauling myself into a functioning state was an irritating effort, not eased by a throng of well meaning taxi hawks.
After writing my last blog, I killed a delightful few hours waiting for my bus to Kayseri strolling through the nearer of the two 'Love valleys' and swimming with my Aussie friends in a hostel pool I helped them find.
It was sad to leave the Traveller's Cave pension. Here I'd enjoyed the finest bed since the awesome one at Ohrid's Sunny Lake Hostel and spent many amused minutes watching some twin puppies fight with each other. Another striking thing was the owner. The hostel he ran was so laid back nobody seemed to care how many beers you had or whether you used the 2 lira per hour internet or for how long. He hadn't even taken the names, let alone the money, of the Aussie girls who went on the expensive Balloon tour. As I discover it's normal in Turkish hostels to pay for everything at the end, but I was right to suspect that if I hadn't admitted drinking two beers and using the internet for an hour I wouldn't have been charged. Naturally (or perhaps not?), I was tempted to overlook these debts but there was something so compelling about the gentle man's trust that forced my conscience. I wonder, though, how much money he loses in a given year through this commendably noble attitude. He also kindly gave me a book of his I was clearly coveting - an Islamic authored 'Terrorism and its Remedy' arguing that Islam seeks peace and that the UN's declaration on Human rights is compatible with the Koran. Many may disagree with that no doubt, possibly even me. For now my knowledge of Islam is too thin to comment. And I know what a flexible demon interpretation can be.
On the short bus trip to Kayseri I was treated to my second conversation with a member of the military. The jolly man to my right was in the airforce and intitally joked that it was secret when I asked what exactly he did (manufacture missiles from what I could gather). He was very friendly, though linguistically our conversation couldn't stretch as far as we wanted. My first encounter with a military man was with the driver on my Cappadocian tour the day before. Whilst the others were still strolling around the Onyx factory, I returned to the bus and sat with the silent looking man, someone I'd shamefully supposed wouldn't speak English. In fact he was friendly and fairly fluent. After some prodding he explained he'd been a tank driver in the late 90's, miming as he did the explosion of a rocket and stating with a grimace of resolution, 'PKK'(the formerly terroristic, or freedom fighting - as you will- Kurdistan Workers Party).
Arriving in Kayseri, the contrast with Cappadocia was extreme. A wild and burly energy emerged, and not a sign of written English anywhere. Clearly the rawness of the East had dawned. I had four hours to kill before my night bus to Urfa so walked into the centre. Here I saw, inevitably, another statue of Ataturk, the Turkish demi-god, this time seated on a horse, lit from below, mid-way between the main Mosque and the Hilton hotel. Ataturk, or Mustafa Kemal, was born in what is now Thessaloniki, Greece, ın the late 19th century. After rising to fame keeping the allies at bay at Gallipoli, he proceeded not only to establish but to mould and structure the new Turkish Republic, implementing a throughgoing reform of Turkish habits and lifestyle in an attempt to modernise and westernise his country and bury the old fashioned, Ottoman traditions of the past (such as the Fez!). Although Turkey's population is 98% Muslim, and religion clearly an evident concern, Turkey is resolutely secular in its constitution and governance, and its army has a proven track record of willingness to step in and flex muscle whenever Communism or, more usually, Islamism rears a threatening head. The tension between Islam and Secularism (or Laicism as it might more accurately be put - since unbelief is very rare) forms the background to the current conundrum of what to do with the Turkish presidency; namely whether to allow a man, Gull, whose wife wears a headscarf, to become the Head of State. Trivial? Essentially, no doubt. Symbolically, not at all. The head of the Army has intimated concern, and after three coups in 50 years that means alot.
Perhaps one of the reasons for their anxieties is the economic success of the country since the pro-Islamic AKP party took control of Parliament in 2002. Such economic progress, though welcome in itself, might suggest to secularists that the Islamists might inveigle themselves through a 'Trojan Horse' of economic competence into an unchallengeable position from which to introduce Islamist laws such as those seen in Iran. The AKP's man, Gull, becoming President might be seen as a step down this road. But from the look of things it doesn't look like this is the AKP's plan. Tell me, if you wanted to turn your country into a theocratic dictatorship would you, as the AKP has done, make strenuous and successful efforts to prepare your country for a possible accession to the EU; or do more to reassure your major minority group than any previous Government has done in years?
In central Kayseri it was pleasant to receive a cast off International Herald Tribune in a cafe from a departing Hilton bound American couple. It really is a good paper. I enjoyed reading about International affairs for awhile. I didn't manage to ask the couple why they were in Kayseri, if it was as adventurous travellers or on business. I suspected business.
In Goreme I'd kindly been given a strip of sedatives by a Kiwi Girl, to help me sleep on buses. I didn't catch their name or what they were for (I don't think they are sleepıng pills). But they certainly worked. Efforts to continue reading 'Millenium People' by JG Ballard were compromised within what seemed seconds of swallowing. Weary, sunken and confused were my two moments of arousal during the trip. And when I arrived ın Urfa, hauling myself into a functioning state was an irritating effort, not eased by a throng of well meaning taxi hawks.
Reality check - I am actually writing this in Diyarbakir, four days ınto the future. So space-tıme wıse we're way out of synch. This is how it may have to go for now. I see no alternative, given the patchy availability of the internet and my current phase of effusiveness.
3 comments:
an amusing post, sir, pity you can't just live like this, having strange encounters and never do a day's meaningless crap labour again. i feel there should be a niche in the job market for you somewhere, roving spy or suchlike.
Jonathan deserves such a niche.
Thanks very much for the compliments:) and support.
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