Turkey Part I: Overview

16 days from big city to villages, mountains to sea, ancient to modern.

Captivating country. Diverse and visually arresting. Ancient and holy. Bounded by four major seas and six countries. A crossroads of cultures, races and religions over centuries, now a secular Republic, 97% Muslim. Five times a day the call to prayer hauntingly reminds you of where you are. Muslims here are reserved, kind, good humored. Patriarchal. Still largely agrarian although the number one source of revenue is now tourism. Turkey has been found!

Our tour leader also serves as a guide, a wonderful young Turk with a degree in tourism, knowledgeable and reverent. Perfect host. 15 people, largely Canadian and US, lovely group.

I begin in Istanbul – 15 million+ population – busy, sprawling, but also surprisingly intimate. A place that has been through so many iterations and is perhaps unprepared but charging into modernity. Crawling with visitors. The Bosphorous River, between the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea, is wide and elegant. Istanbul is the only place on earth that spans two continents - Europe sits on one side of a bridge and Asia on the other. The Golden Horn, the harbor, connects the two European sides of the city, where the major sites are spread out. The Blue Mosque shares a plaza with the elegant Hagia Sophia church – a metaphor for the city and the country, from Christian to Roman, Byzantine to Islam…

On an overnight train, we head to Ankora, the capital, and business capital, which is merely a station to connect with ground transport to the Cappadocia Region where remarkable rock formations create vast networks of “buildings” and caves line the hillsides. Underground cities have been excavated for visiting. Brown and arrid, we hike and explore the remarkable landscape. Hot air balloons take off every morning at dawn for an hour or so to float over the stunning topography. From below, the formations seem like stalagmites, from above stalactites [or is it the other way around?} The summation: more than 10 million years ago, three volcanoes erupted, dropping lava, mud and ash. Over time, they cooled to compress into a soft porous rock, which eroded and carved out structures that seem like giant trolls. They call them fairy houses. It is said the wind also contributed to the molding into tall cones and pillars. Indescribable so view good photos at http://www.google.com/search?q=cappadocia+turkey&hl=en&rlz=1G1ACAW_ENUS328&prmd=ivnsm&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=fzvITcmpCqbx0gGE7f2iCA&ved=0CD4QsAQ&biw=1172&bih=436

Goreme is a charming, old-West sort of city. Avanos, the pottery center, spreads out along a river with tree-lined paths. The Turkish Baths is quite the communal experience [shared the sauna with a lively group of Russians!] A performance of Whirling Dervishes presents the trance-like homage to Allah. We enjoy a home-cooked meal at the home of a family with adorable boys.

Konya, center of the conservative Muslim community, is a way station on the way to the Mediterranean. Also home to gypsies living in encampments on the edge of the city. Rumi Museum honors his poetry and spirituality.

On the way… rooftop solar panels on almost all the apartment buildings to heat water. Cost: $800. Lasts roughly 12 years. Visually an odd rippled affect. Also limestone and marble quarries, big industry in southern region. Whole hillsides carved out as if antiquity, but instead the signs of rapid population growth. Government builds standard issue apartment buildings for moderate income families and sells as condominiums. Not much variance in the modern architecture.

Note: Men stare at me, neither threatening nor admiring, rather as if I am odd in some way. I discover that a fellow traveler, also gray-haired, has the same reaction. Women dye their hair or cover their heads with scarves, so silver hair is indeed an oddity.

Antalya is Turkey’s version of Miami Beach – tall buildings line boulevards along the sea. In contrast, the old city, flanked by stone pillars and cobblestone streets, surrounds the marina. A walking path above the sea parallels the tram line, which leads to a lovely museum filled with iconography, excavated statues and ornately carved sarcophagi. We have a glass of wine at sunset on the hotel patio overlooking a cove – snow capped mountains are visible in the distance. Feels like the Cote D’Azur – in Turkey, the Turquoise Coast.

Kas, I could have stayed there a week – charming coastal seaside village. As if in Greece. We spend a lovely day on a boat owned by a local couple. He navigates, she cooks lunch. Warm people. Gorgeous day. The Med is cold for swimming but the sun is high. We travel close to the coastline to see a 4th century sunken city [kayakers get an even closer view] and an island disconnected from the mainland by a 10th c. earthquake. Simena, a tiny village built into the hills of an island, all wooden structures, mostly café’s and pensyons, is accessible only by boat.

Note: Buttercups, tulips and daffodils. Red poppies grow wild. Rows and rows of greenhouses [they look like salt flats from a distance] filled with tomatoes, cukes, corn and pumpkin. On hillsides, olive, peach and fig trees. Interspersed with tall pines along the mountains.

Turkish carpets are double-knotted, thus considered superior to Persian. Huge industry – 50,000 people involved. Men run the business, women do the weaving. Working conditions have improved so that some women can work from home. Natural dyes. Wool. cotton, blends and also silk – Turkey is third largest producer of silk. I succumb and negotiate well a lovely small cotton carpet in gorgeous shades of blue.

On the Aegean Sea. Fetiye. Lovely city, more upscale, sophisticated. Brits have summer homes here. Temples carved into rock. Seaside path with café’s. Lovely Bazaar. Some of the group visit the mud baths. Lunch in a tree covered courtyard downtown – mezes [tapas] largely eggplant and tomato based, also fava and lima beans, hearty and healthy, always with big chunks of baguette or flat breads. We also sit at tables by a dirt road where women cook filled pancakes [spinach, potato, eggplant] on a flat stone in the fire. Food is otherwise hard for me here – so much meat and cheese. Kebabs are good, also casseroles cooked in clay pots. Lemons squeezed into lentil soup, delicious. I rediscover halivah and also the pleasure of Greek tea – very dark. Apple tea an afternoon favorite, served in small tulip shaped glasses, the shape of the Arabic letters that spell Allah. [I bring a few home, will be perfect for afternoon tea.] At the fish market one night, we choose a fish, pay for it, then one of the restaurants within the market cooks to taste, served with rice and salad. Lovely meal.

Denizli, unusually modern city, home to textile factories and coal mines. Nicer looking new buildings. We lunch here at a hilltop café, en route to Pamukkale – circa 7,000 BC, built by Greeks. Mineral waters here crystallize over time into white cliffs. The remaining pools are pale aqua in color and varied in temperature. Geo-thermal engineering captures underground waters for irrigation. We explore the ruins of Hierapolis, an ancient holy city, a teaser to Ephesus which comes next.

Ephesus, 6th – 3rd century BC. Maybe as many as half a million lived here. 24,000 can sit in the theater. Once perched along a u-shaped harbor, which no longer exists. Greeks, Romans, Ottamons, they all lived here. Every sort of column is represented – Doric, Ionic, Corinthian. Once the center of “Asia Minor.” Founded by Amazon Goddesses. It is said that Mother Mary spent her last days in a stone house near here, under the protection of the Epostle John who spread his gospel from Turkey. Sophisticated infrastructure. Clay water pipes. Toilet houses with deep troughs flushed by flowing waters below. Fabulous library, which even empty feels like a library. Pagans and Jews here at one time as well - a mazuzah carved into a footstone near bibliotec. Only 15% of the site has been excavated – it is against the law to do more until the technology improves, so as not to destroy antiquity. We visit Sirince, an old Greek village in the steep hills above Selcuk, where Greeks resided until population exchange at close of WWI. Half a million Turks living in Greece were sent back to Turkey and over a million Greeks deported. Low pitched roofs, white stone walls, brown trimmed windows, all seem like Greece still. Narrow streets filled with vendors like a bazaar. Lush hills grow olives turned into oil and soap.

We enjoy a wonderful dinner at a cozy restaurant in Selcuk before departing for return to Istanbul. This city needs its own blog. To be continued…

Photos at: https://picasaweb.google.com/maple57/Turkey#

What's great about working freelance...

Take a typical day for example - ah, there's the answer - there is no typical day, and that's what makes working on one's own so great. Often, I walk first thing in the morning, a great way to energize the day. Sometimes I walk at the end of day, the sunset walk, to soothe the savage [born most often of difficult clients] or simply to stretch the spine that sat too still at the computer for too long. Sometimes, like today, I manage the email, read the headline news, listen to NPR, and even have time to watch a few fabulous TED talks, before I head to Zumba or Pilates class. Sometimes I stop mid-day for a class. In between, after showers and between meals, I work. I write. I interview. I council or conference with clients. If I feel like it, and sometimes I do, I take an extended lunch with a friend or colleague, or I read, the guiltiest pleasure of this freelancer. Late in the day, when the work that must be done is done, I might take my audio Spanish class or meet a friend for a bit of vino. Make no mistake - I work hard, I make my deadlines, I satisfy clients. The work is always top of mind but not all. I learned long ago that working smart is better than working hard - one has to stay focused, outcome-based, with a working calendar that lays out week by week what needs to be done and when. It's the in-betweens that make life delicious, perhaps there is a true metaphor here. This is the time once taken by superfluous meetings or wasteful chatter, the trappings of the office life. Even commuters can read or listen to a book and that must ease their pain. [Woe to those who listen to talk radio!] Sure, sometimes I miss the collegial environment, but much less so in my advanced age. Solitude and silence have become good companions, and facilitate productivity. I'm blessed with marketable skills and the discipline to work for myself. And savings that cushion my cash flow. I've also vigilantly reduced expenses in recent years, although this largely to pay for the wanderlust that grows more demanding over time. Still, I manage. I don't need much and that's a comfort. I hope I have seen my last "desk job" but one never knows - perhaps some fabulous post will come to my attention and I'll go back inside, it's happened before. But, in truth, I am spoiled and sated by this life, and most grateful for it. And for the clients that sustain me.

San Miguel de Allende

I first heard about San Miguel a dozen years ago when a customer at the bookstore came looking for literature related to colonial Mexico. He had just returned from a Spanish immersion class there and raved about the city. Soon after, I discovered a beautiful little book, The Doors of San Miguel, which captures the essence of this small city that resides largely behind wide ornamental doors along cobblestone streets and narrow alleys. BTW, I met the author there on this trip, promoting his third book about his adopted home.

He is among an estimated 15 thousand ex-pats who have relocated to San Miguel, many after a study holiday there, as there are several Spanish schools, also art schools, as the area is home to many artists. Once a center of silver mining and craftsmanship, most of the mines have been closed, but the city feels, still, like an overgrown pueblo, trapped happily in history. While there is sufficient infrasture to maintain a modern lifestyle, gentrification is slow and constrained in some measure by residents, Anglos and Mexicanos, who wish to sustain the old-world charm.

The pace is slow, an easy ebb and flow like the steady rhythm of breathing, as locals, expats and visitors meander through town. There is hardly a traffic light or stop sign: instead, at every corner, cars slow down to permit pedestrians to pass or to politely allow another car to turn. The pattern is facilitated by stone speed bumps every half a block or so that keep the pace intact. I never heard a car horn blare, neither a siren nor a harsh word.

Behind the many colorful doors are courtyards overflowing with bougainvillea and punctuated of course by water fountains. Winter is a lot like the desert climate it is - cold mornings and nights, very warm sunny days - the spread was roughly 30 degrees each day. Winter lasts barely three months, so few homes have heat, and even our lovely 2-BR flat, upgraded and with modern comfortable furnishings, had one space heater in the wall that barely touched the surface. We slept comfortably under many blankets, but morning showers were a chilly affair, all the better to conserve water. Waste not want not might be the Mexican motto - I was told that few locals have refrigerators, as they prepare fresh foods daily and only what they need, the few scraps saved for their animals, who wander the streets quietly in search of an extra morsel. Mexicans believe that keeping animals indoors in not hygienic. Nor do they believe much in baths, strictly showers, and they wash clothes in old-fastioned scrubbers or at the lavanderia [laundromat.]

Along the wider sidewalks [most are quite narrow] local farmers bring in fresh fruits and vegetables every day and sell them to passers by in plastic containers or bags, cut up on the spot and fresh for feasting [reminded me of Thailand.] Large open air markets cater to the locals and there is a huge daily artisans market where people work and sell lovely wares. Ton't think that the food or handicrafts are unsophisticated - quite the contrary. Dana and I had wonderful meals and some restaurants as elegant as one might find in Europe, and we bought beautiful jewelry and a few crafts. There is also a very elegant design center housed in an old factory, as impressive as anything you might find in a trendy city in the US.

San Miguel feels small, we walked most of it in our travels, centered by El Jardin, which is less a garden than a plaza with the obligatory and beautiful churches. Provincial in the best sense of the word, but you don't feel it when you're up on a rooftop terrace gazing at colorful hillsides and steeples. Many galleries are tucked along downtown streets, there are several local theater groups, late-night bars, some interesting nouveau cocktails [talk to Dana] many yoga and wellness centers. [Dana connected day-one with the local naturopathic community, which includes organic markets and cafe's, and many state-of-the-art practioners - the best of which seems to be LifePath, utterly gorgeous place and filled with the highest level practitioners and programs.]

I see why so many have settled there, and many are retirement folks, so there is a real sense of a mid-life community. The locals at worst tolerate Anglo's, at best appreciate that they bring money and business to their community. We discovered several cafe's and restaurants owned by Americans, as well as galleries, but they employ locals to keep the peace. Small ghetto-like areas have sprouted where many American/Canadians live, others choose to integrate, and we encountered more than a few Europeans as well.

Besides my daily 4-hour study and homework [by week's end I thought my head would explode, but I learned a lot] we wandered, took a guided historic walk, went on the famous Sunday house-tour which benefits the Biblioteca, enjoyed a staged radio-style theatre production of "It's a Wonderful Life" and a couple of group dinners with fellow students and our ex-New Yorker neighbor. We listened to a flamenco guitar, conversed with many waiters and restauranteurs, made friends with the owner of a new wine bar, and I attended a Hannukah party sponsored by the local Jewish group, which included a half-dozen Mexican families who are converting.

We ate lots of avocadoes and fruit, drank local wines, and enjoyed the quiet sounds of city life beyond our gorgeous wrap-around patio above a busy but not noisy street, as well as fireworks in honor of the Fiesta of Guadalupe. We spent a day in beautiful Guanajuato, the capital of the state, an hour's comfortable bus-ride away, where there is a large university, museums, the Cervantes theater, and an elegant central plaza as anchor; a city constructed above ancient tunnels once meant for water and now used to circulate traffic in and around the city. Beautiful place, few Anglo's there, much more developed and sophisticated, but we preferred the simplicity and spirit of San Miguel.

Although we had access to the internet, we had no television and no phones and instead mostly walked in the evenings or relaxed after full days and warm sun. I think that if you visit this city for a day or two as a tourist, you might find it lovely, but its true charms are in staying put a while and getting the feel of it, which is perhaps why so many settle there. It's a long journey, but worth being there, and I plan to return some time soon - the Writer's Conference is in February and seems to be calling to me!

Enjoy photos at: http://picasaweb.google.com/maple57/SanMigueldeAllende#

Mea Culpa

It's been a while since I posted a blog and will likely be a very long while until I post another. My writing life is very full these days with newsletters, annual reports, public relations material [the day job] and I am also writing a book review blog for a new site, which I'm trying to do every week, so this requires reading as well as the writing. http://www.ocinsite.com/index.php/blog/comments/the_warmth_of_other_suns.

And, I am immersed in writing another novel, which seems to be writing itself, but requires a lot of attention. I've been devoting roughly 2 - 3 hours a day to this story of several characters whose lives intersect although more often metaphorically than in reality, and I am pleased to say I am in the zone. Most of you know I've done this twice before, and each time the writing had a different feeling and a different pace. This time, after many years away from fiction, it is a bit more like jazz - several characters in different decades being written simultandously - more amorphous and in many ways more creative than anything I've done before. I'm loving it. So forgive me this break from the Dispatch - I will return now and then when the spirit moves me - but for now, my "pen" is committed elsewhere. Stay tuned! Cheers.

Book blogger

I'll be posting less often in the near future because I am writing a book blog for a new website. Check it out: www.ocinsite.com. Look for blogs, look for me. Will be fun to write book reviews. Sadly, few newspapers include book reviews any more and it's hard for great books to find their audience. Maybe this will help.

I'm learning to live 2-weeks at a time now, that's the time between refitting my Invalign braces, the latest adventure of mid-life. Teeth too far gone, too much trouble, they need to be corrected. Will take a year. I'm on day 4. It's wierd but not awful. They say it will take roughly 10 months, which means 20 molds. So I'm thinking of my next year in 2-week increments. Not exactly the Zen day-to-day, but close enough. The only upside is that it makes me feel a little like a teenager - does this mean I also get to be perpetually testy, moody and generally obnoxious? Nah, been there.

Cheers, xx