Cappadocia
Well, as it turns out, I didn't go to Gumushane. The school that wanted me wasn't willing to pay enough money, so it wasn't worth my time. Boy am I glad I didn't go, because the very next day I was ill. Phew!
Now back to my Cappadocia travels. Where were we?
Ah, yes. On the way to the bus terminal, Emine Hanim gave me instructions to take a dolmush from the Nevshehir bus terminal to Urgup to try to find a cheap pension. She had arranged for me to stay at a very expensive hotel in a little place called Mustafapasha, just in case I couldn't find a place on my own. She also gave me a list of places to visit in the area.
What I did: Since it was the first day of Bayram, there weren't any dolmushes, so I had to take a taxi. My driver had his 7-year-old son with him, and as soon as he caught on that I spoke a bit of Turkish began telling me all about the area at such a rapid pace that I could barely keep up with him! I told him that I just wanted to go to Urgup and find cheap lodging, but we ended up going all the way to Mustafapasha (a good 20 km further) because I told him about my hotel. A minor mistake, as you'll see in a few moments.
On the way, he stopped to gas up his car and stop at a lookout so I could take a photograph, the meter running the whole time. I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Here I was, on my own in a new country where I didn't know the language, not knowing where I was going to lay my head for the next couple days. I must admit, I was a little scared.
When we arrived in Mustafapasha at about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, we stopped in the town center. Off to the left were weird people dancing to club music dressed up in red wigs, orange feather boas, and other strange outfits. Off to my left were some older Turkish men sitting on a bench. My taxi driver leaned yelled over my lap and asked them if they knew of a cheap place to stay. I was suspicious of the situation; how did I know these men didn't know each other and were just trying to set me up in their friend's place? One of the men on the bench recommended Hotel Pacha, just up the hill. It was there I met my host for the next three days, Ismail. Ismail told me he didn't have a vacancy, but told me I could sleep in the room he normally sleeps in, and that he would sleep elsewhere. After we bargained on the price, I agreed. Then I went to get my bags from the taxi.
At the bus terminal, I misunderstood what the driver had said, and thought I was to pay 5 million Turkish Lira to get to Urgup. Imagine my surprise when he asked for 52 million!
He told me it cost an extra 20 million to get from Urgup to Mustafapasha. Oi!
The room where I stayed is on the left through the last arch.
Upstairs. To the right is a lovely view of some Cappadocian landscape, and to the left is the door to the room I stayed the second night. Ismail is here with the blue and black cap.
As I settled into my little room, I wondered what I would do next. Having no guide book and only a list of places to visit, I wasn't sure what would happen. I needn't have worried, because as soon as I went upstairs, Ismail took care that my every need was met. He immediately took me on a quick little tour of the area around Mustafapasha. There are some old churches carved out of the stone nearby. He showed me the nicest one.
Front of church. I imagine it was painted lovely colors around the doorway.
Ismail inside the chapel.
View from the altar.
A sample of the frescoes.
After the church, he took me down a really muddy road to a mineral spring. He had me taste the water coming out of it, and it tasted very similar to mineral water without the carbonation, which was quite awful to my tongue. I had a few sips, just to savor the experience, but blech! it tasted terrible.
On the way back to town, he offered to take me on a tour of Cappadocia the next day. The taxi driver had offered the same thing for $100, but Ismail was only asking $50, so I accepted.
At this point I was getting quite hungry, so we headed back to town and I went to the restaurant that had all the strange people dancing in front of it. By this time, everyone was dancing, strange European people and Turks alike, to traditional Turkish music. A clarinetist and a drummer were playing loudly while the group had formed a circle, which was going very rapidly in a clockwise direction. Everyone seemed to be having a blast!
I observed for a bit, but then went and sat by a window in the huge dining room. The restaurant owner opened the curtains so I wouldn't miss any of the action. It was a strange scene, all these people in clubbing gear dancing in broad daylight to traditional Turkish music. There were several people video taping the whole thing with some amateur and professional video cameras.
At some point during my meal, an older gentleman came into the room with a saz and began packing it up. I hadn't seen him play, so I told him in my best Turkish that I was sad to have missed his performance, and that I'm interested in learning to play it as well. Upon hearing this, he became very excited and told me that he was having some friends come over tonight around 9 o'clock and would I be interested in coming, too? Sure! He knew my hotel host, so he knew where to pick me up later that evening.
As I paid my bill, I overheard the strangers speaking English. I went over and talked to them. It was then that I learned this was a group on a pilot project called the Human Web. (Their card says www.humanweb.tv, but it doesn't seem to work for me. Maybe y'all will have better luck than me.) Their goal is to make a new type of reality show, one with meaning. They want to learn about other people's celebrations, so they are going around the world and having a never ending party, so to speak. People from several countries are participating: Italy, England, Turkey, Spain, Lebanon, Canada, and some others I can't remember.
The party seemed to be closing down at this point, so I headed back to the pension. On the short way up the hill, I stopped at a shop that Ismail owns.
He explained to me earlier that he grew up in Mustafapasha and that his first business was this shop selling onyx sculptures which he made. One day, a man who owned the building that is now Hotel Pacha approached Ismail and asked him if he wanted to buy the place. Of course Ismail jumped at the opportunity and spent the next 10 years building the place up. His sons now run the shop which sells everything from onyx egg holders to hookahs to jewelry to small kilims. At the hotel, Ismail has a collection of woven carpets for sale. It was fun watching the other guests picking out their carpets. I plan on buying one myself, but I feel I should save a little first.
Back at the hotel, I met some of the other guests. My first encounter was a Turkish woman, Neval, and her friends. Neval is from Adana and her friends were from the Istanbul area. Most of them spoke English very well, one of them having lived in the States for 10 years. One woman was my age, Asli, and we hit it off pretty well. At one point we were looking at a book of Ismail's on Cappadocia and we came across a photograph of an old medrese. Neval said something, and before I knew it, five of us were walking out of the hotel and towards Ismail's shop. Across from the shop was a large building, the very same we were just looking at in the book! On either side of the doorway were columns, and Neval proceeded to turn them. This was totally amazing. They were designed to be a signal as to whether the building was balanced or not. Turkey is fraught with fault lines, so this measures the stability of the foundation. In the 600 or so years that this place has been standing, no major earthquakes have caused any damage because the columns turned with great ease. (I thought I took a picture of this place, but I didn't. Many apologies, 'cause it's really neat looking.) The medrese is now a carpet shop.
Shortly after this, Sülyeman, the saz player, came by to pick me up. He took me to his home, an old church, and gave me the grand tour. First we through a little door and negotiated down some very steep steps into the basement. There were two rooms: one with a wood stove lit in green light and another open room with benches on three sides lit with a small black light and disco ball. Everything was carved out of rock, much like the rest of Cappadocia. We went back upstairs and around a couple corners and I found myself looking at an old chapel into which a set of stairs had been built. Eight steps went up the outer walls to a small landing, and eight more steps went up in the center of the altar area. He took me up these and when I got to the top, he had me turn around. It was at this point that I saw this.
After the tour we went back to the basement and hung out in the green room, where he introduced me to his two daughters and their girlfriends who served me unlimited amounts of tea, baklava and dolma. We also danced our booties off in the open room where they taught me some Turkish dance moves.
Just as they were starting to show me how to belly-dance, Sülyeman came back with three or four friends, one of whom played the saz. Ahmet was the saz player, whom I later learned works in the medrese-turned-carpet-shop. Here he is playing the electric saz, which has a thicker, smoother sound than the acoustic. Ahmet tried to teach me a song on the saz, and I was able to pluck it out to everyone's satisfaction, but don't ask me to play it now. After a while, the saz playing ended, at which point I was becoming extremely tired. Sülyeman put on his coat, and instructed me not to fall asleep. His friends were coming in 20 minutes. Oh man, I thought his friends were already here!
As I sat there, drinking my twelfth glass of tea, I couldn't help wondering how many people were coming and how long everything was going to last. I didn't think this for long, however, because soon the Human Web crew came into the room and began pumping dance music through the speakers. The guy I met earlier was surprised and happy to see me, as I had been the topic at dinner for them. At some point they interviewed me on video--so watch out for me on American TV! It was really fun hanging out with them, dancing to Prince in a cave in the middle of Cappadocia.
An hour a half later they left, as did I. I was exhausted. I got back to the hotel at about 2 am, and Ismail was waiting up. He said he was also waiting for another guest, so he showed me the old kitchen, which was next to my room. Then he showed me where he would sleep, on a pile of cushions in the old kitchen. At one point during all this, he asked me if I wouldn't mind sleeping in the same room as me (there were two beds). I didn't feel comfortable with that idea, and I said as much. After closing the door to my room, I didn't feel very safe. So I tied the room key to my pajama pants, propped the ironing board up between the door and the end of the second bed, and put my suitcase in the window. Even then, it took me about an hour to fall asleep. All I could think about was one thing. All women of the world have this in common: we cannot be entirely trustful of men. Grrrr...
At breakfast the next morning, which included the rose jam--my new favorite, I asked Neval what she thought about the situation. She was of the opinion that he shouldn't have asked to sleep in the same room, but she would still go on the tour. She speculated that he probably asked me because I'm a foreign woman and might have more open attitudes to sleeping in rooms with strange men. I didn't get any creepy feelings from him otherwise, so I hung out with him all day, and I can say I regret it.
This is a situation in which part of me is enraged, but on the flip side he made sure I had everything I needed. On the tour, he took me everywhere and let me stay as long as I wished. He didn't follow me around unnecessarily or make me feel uncomfortable in any other way; he made sure I got good deals on my purchases, and he made sure I was well fed. I have reason to believe he was just being a lazy git when it came to setting up cushions for him sleep on, so I am inclined to forgive him. That said, I still wouldn't let him sleep in the same room as me if the situation came up again.
So the tour. It was awesome! First stop, Göreme Open Air Museum. The tourist price is 15 million Turkish Lira (about $10), but I told the guy I live in Trabzon and he let me in for 3 million ($1.50). Yeehaw for my residence permit!
Okay, I am now up to the point in my story where I need to upload more photos. More later, folks.
Did you miss me?
Now back to my Cappadocia travels. Where were we?
Ah, yes. On the way to the bus terminal, Emine Hanim gave me instructions to take a dolmush from the Nevshehir bus terminal to Urgup to try to find a cheap pension. She had arranged for me to stay at a very expensive hotel in a little place called Mustafapasha, just in case I couldn't find a place on my own. She also gave me a list of places to visit in the area.
What I did: Since it was the first day of Bayram, there weren't any dolmushes, so I had to take a taxi. My driver had his 7-year-old son with him, and as soon as he caught on that I spoke a bit of Turkish began telling me all about the area at such a rapid pace that I could barely keep up with him! I told him that I just wanted to go to Urgup and find cheap lodging, but we ended up going all the way to Mustafapasha (a good 20 km further) because I told him about my hotel. A minor mistake, as you'll see in a few moments.
On the way, he stopped to gas up his car and stop at a lookout so I could take a photograph, the meter running the whole time. I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Here I was, on my own in a new country where I didn't know the language, not knowing where I was going to lay my head for the next couple days. I must admit, I was a little scared.
When we arrived in Mustafapasha at about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, we stopped in the town center. Off to the left were weird people dancing to club music dressed up in red wigs, orange feather boas, and other strange outfits. Off to my left were some older Turkish men sitting on a bench. My taxi driver leaned yelled over my lap and asked them if they knew of a cheap place to stay. I was suspicious of the situation; how did I know these men didn't know each other and were just trying to set me up in their friend's place? One of the men on the bench recommended Hotel Pacha, just up the hill. It was there I met my host for the next three days, Ismail. Ismail told me he didn't have a vacancy, but told me I could sleep in the room he normally sleeps in, and that he would sleep elsewhere. After we bargained on the price, I agreed. Then I went to get my bags from the taxi.
At the bus terminal, I misunderstood what the driver had said, and thought I was to pay 5 million Turkish Lira to get to Urgup. Imagine my surprise when he asked for 52 million!
He told me it cost an extra 20 million to get from Urgup to Mustafapasha. Oi!
The room where I stayed is on the left through the last arch.
Upstairs. To the right is a lovely view of some Cappadocian landscape, and to the left is the door to the room I stayed the second night. Ismail is here with the blue and black cap.
As I settled into my little room, I wondered what I would do next. Having no guide book and only a list of places to visit, I wasn't sure what would happen. I needn't have worried, because as soon as I went upstairs, Ismail took care that my every need was met. He immediately took me on a quick little tour of the area around Mustafapasha. There are some old churches carved out of the stone nearby. He showed me the nicest one.
Front of church. I imagine it was painted lovely colors around the doorway.
Ismail inside the chapel.
View from the altar.
A sample of the frescoes.
After the church, he took me down a really muddy road to a mineral spring. He had me taste the water coming out of it, and it tasted very similar to mineral water without the carbonation, which was quite awful to my tongue. I had a few sips, just to savor the experience, but blech! it tasted terrible.
On the way back to town, he offered to take me on a tour of Cappadocia the next day. The taxi driver had offered the same thing for $100, but Ismail was only asking $50, so I accepted.
At this point I was getting quite hungry, so we headed back to town and I went to the restaurant that had all the strange people dancing in front of it. By this time, everyone was dancing, strange European people and Turks alike, to traditional Turkish music. A clarinetist and a drummer were playing loudly while the group had formed a circle, which was going very rapidly in a clockwise direction. Everyone seemed to be having a blast!
I observed for a bit, but then went and sat by a window in the huge dining room. The restaurant owner opened the curtains so I wouldn't miss any of the action. It was a strange scene, all these people in clubbing gear dancing in broad daylight to traditional Turkish music. There were several people video taping the whole thing with some amateur and professional video cameras.
At some point during my meal, an older gentleman came into the room with a saz and began packing it up. I hadn't seen him play, so I told him in my best Turkish that I was sad to have missed his performance, and that I'm interested in learning to play it as well. Upon hearing this, he became very excited and told me that he was having some friends come over tonight around 9 o'clock and would I be interested in coming, too? Sure! He knew my hotel host, so he knew where to pick me up later that evening.
As I paid my bill, I overheard the strangers speaking English. I went over and talked to them. It was then that I learned this was a group on a pilot project called the Human Web. (Their card says www.humanweb.tv, but it doesn't seem to work for me. Maybe y'all will have better luck than me.) Their goal is to make a new type of reality show, one with meaning. They want to learn about other people's celebrations, so they are going around the world and having a never ending party, so to speak. People from several countries are participating: Italy, England, Turkey, Spain, Lebanon, Canada, and some others I can't remember.
The party seemed to be closing down at this point, so I headed back to the pension. On the short way up the hill, I stopped at a shop that Ismail owns.
He explained to me earlier that he grew up in Mustafapasha and that his first business was this shop selling onyx sculptures which he made. One day, a man who owned the building that is now Hotel Pacha approached Ismail and asked him if he wanted to buy the place. Of course Ismail jumped at the opportunity and spent the next 10 years building the place up. His sons now run the shop which sells everything from onyx egg holders to hookahs to jewelry to small kilims. At the hotel, Ismail has a collection of woven carpets for sale. It was fun watching the other guests picking out their carpets. I plan on buying one myself, but I feel I should save a little first.
Back at the hotel, I met some of the other guests. My first encounter was a Turkish woman, Neval, and her friends. Neval is from Adana and her friends were from the Istanbul area. Most of them spoke English very well, one of them having lived in the States for 10 years. One woman was my age, Asli, and we hit it off pretty well. At one point we were looking at a book of Ismail's on Cappadocia and we came across a photograph of an old medrese. Neval said something, and before I knew it, five of us were walking out of the hotel and towards Ismail's shop. Across from the shop was a large building, the very same we were just looking at in the book! On either side of the doorway were columns, and Neval proceeded to turn them. This was totally amazing. They were designed to be a signal as to whether the building was balanced or not. Turkey is fraught with fault lines, so this measures the stability of the foundation. In the 600 or so years that this place has been standing, no major earthquakes have caused any damage because the columns turned with great ease. (I thought I took a picture of this place, but I didn't. Many apologies, 'cause it's really neat looking.) The medrese is now a carpet shop.
Shortly after this, Sülyeman, the saz player, came by to pick me up. He took me to his home, an old church, and gave me the grand tour. First we through a little door and negotiated down some very steep steps into the basement. There were two rooms: one with a wood stove lit in green light and another open room with benches on three sides lit with a small black light and disco ball. Everything was carved out of rock, much like the rest of Cappadocia. We went back upstairs and around a couple corners and I found myself looking at an old chapel into which a set of stairs had been built. Eight steps went up the outer walls to a small landing, and eight more steps went up in the center of the altar area. He took me up these and when I got to the top, he had me turn around. It was at this point that I saw this.
After the tour we went back to the basement and hung out in the green room, where he introduced me to his two daughters and their girlfriends who served me unlimited amounts of tea, baklava and dolma. We also danced our booties off in the open room where they taught me some Turkish dance moves.
Just as they were starting to show me how to belly-dance, Sülyeman came back with three or four friends, one of whom played the saz. Ahmet was the saz player, whom I later learned works in the medrese-turned-carpet-shop. Here he is playing the electric saz, which has a thicker, smoother sound than the acoustic. Ahmet tried to teach me a song on the saz, and I was able to pluck it out to everyone's satisfaction, but don't ask me to play it now. After a while, the saz playing ended, at which point I was becoming extremely tired. Sülyeman put on his coat, and instructed me not to fall asleep. His friends were coming in 20 minutes. Oh man, I thought his friends were already here!
As I sat there, drinking my twelfth glass of tea, I couldn't help wondering how many people were coming and how long everything was going to last. I didn't think this for long, however, because soon the Human Web crew came into the room and began pumping dance music through the speakers. The guy I met earlier was surprised and happy to see me, as I had been the topic at dinner for them. At some point they interviewed me on video--so watch out for me on American TV! It was really fun hanging out with them, dancing to Prince in a cave in the middle of Cappadocia.
An hour a half later they left, as did I. I was exhausted. I got back to the hotel at about 2 am, and Ismail was waiting up. He said he was also waiting for another guest, so he showed me the old kitchen, which was next to my room. Then he showed me where he would sleep, on a pile of cushions in the old kitchen. At one point during all this, he asked me if I wouldn't mind sleeping in the same room as me (there were two beds). I didn't feel comfortable with that idea, and I said as much. After closing the door to my room, I didn't feel very safe. So I tied the room key to my pajama pants, propped the ironing board up between the door and the end of the second bed, and put my suitcase in the window. Even then, it took me about an hour to fall asleep. All I could think about was one thing. All women of the world have this in common: we cannot be entirely trustful of men. Grrrr...
At breakfast the next morning, which included the rose jam--my new favorite, I asked Neval what she thought about the situation. She was of the opinion that he shouldn't have asked to sleep in the same room, but she would still go on the tour. She speculated that he probably asked me because I'm a foreign woman and might have more open attitudes to sleeping in rooms with strange men. I didn't get any creepy feelings from him otherwise, so I hung out with him all day, and I can say I regret it.
This is a situation in which part of me is enraged, but on the flip side he made sure I had everything I needed. On the tour, he took me everywhere and let me stay as long as I wished. He didn't follow me around unnecessarily or make me feel uncomfortable in any other way; he made sure I got good deals on my purchases, and he made sure I was well fed. I have reason to believe he was just being a lazy git when it came to setting up cushions for him sleep on, so I am inclined to forgive him. That said, I still wouldn't let him sleep in the same room as me if the situation came up again.
So the tour. It was awesome! First stop, Göreme Open Air Museum. The tourist price is 15 million Turkish Lira (about $10), but I told the guy I live in Trabzon and he let me in for 3 million ($1.50). Yeehaw for my residence permit!
Okay, I am now up to the point in my story where I need to upload more photos. More later, folks.
Did you miss me?
posted by nicole @ 11:45 AM
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