"This life, therefore, is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it. The process is not finished, but it is going on. This is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified." ~ Martin Luther
31 October 2011
No tricks! Only treats!
If you use YouVersion Bible on your iOS device, both NIV and NLT are available for free download until 11:59PM tonight:
http://blog.youversion.com/2011/10/niv-and-nlt-available-for-download-from-youversion—for-48-hours-only/
If you don't have a Bible on your iOS device, try the free YouVersion Bible app. The Saved prefer it two to one over all other Bible applications ;-)
http://blog.youversion.com/2011/10/niv-and-nlt-available-for-download-from-youversion—for-48-hours-only/
If you don't have a Bible on your iOS device, try the free YouVersion Bible app. The Saved prefer it two to one over all other Bible applications ;-)
Location:Casa de Miguel
26 October 2011
Home, sweet home! And, that cologne I applied at Duty Free in Frankfurt is looong gone. Whew!
25 October 2011
One Minute in Tel Aviv
I've been exploring the Carmel and Nahalat Binyamin Street Markets today. This is a brief video from the Star of David intersection of Ben Yahuda and Rehov Allenby on a Tuesday afternoon. How many unusual things can you spot in this one minute video?
Location:נחלת בנימין,Tel Aviv,Israel
24 October 2011
What day is it?
Has it just been a week?! What day is it? I am overwhelmed. Dude. Since Monday, I've been traveling in Jordan, Palestine, and Israel. Unlike the previous 20 days (and my preferred mode of travel), I have met up with my parents and a group of retirees, all from their church just north of Ft. Worth. Had you asked me before meeting the group, I would've confessed my concern about traveling with a group at least 20 years older than me. Likewise, traveling by tour bus (see: large groups of slow-moving, camera-wielding, line-creating, purple umbrella-following, yellow-cap wearing clichés) is universally considered an anathema to the independent traveler (see: backpack-carrying, Chaco-wearing, dorm/floor-sleeping, Lonely-Planet toting, wifi-demanding, meal-skipping, not-so-good smelling, bizarre experience-seeking, couch-surfing, passport stamp-claiming, seeker of culturally rich experiences). Imagine my surprise to find myself truly enjoying the time spent not only with my parents, but also with this group of sweet people. It was like traveling with a bus-load of grandparents. Over this last week, I actually compiled a list of all the benefits I discovered of traveling with a tour group of Peepaws and Mimis:
• Although we were traveling by bus, we still managed to take bathroom breaks at least once an hour;
• The group always moves slowly and methodically. No matter how long I tarry, I'm always able to catch up to the group;
• Comfortable beds are a necessity, rather than luxury;
• Both breakfast and dinner are provided at the hotel, plentifully supplied with easy-to-chew and high-fiber options;
• Messages are repeated 14 times for various reasons: denial about needing hearing aids OR battery failure in said hearing aids OR folks were in the bathroom;
• If I forget anything - tissue, a warm scarf, how to use the elevator - I'm surrounded by those who, unsolicited, are more than ready to help me remember;
• Ironically, if any of them forget anything - the day of the week, where they are, their name - I am there to help them remember;
• I get to ride the elevator without shame everywhere we go...and they let me push the buttons!
• Buses - yes, those hated buses - pick us up at the very door of the hotel and whisk us to the very entrance of the scheduled sites, and are then waiting for us at the exit.
• And finally, I get to be the youngest person in any gathering, feeling downright vibrant and zippy by comparison!
I am also overwhelmed by the staggering number of places I have visited in just the last seven days. When I remember the places I visited in Greece and Turkey, it feels like that happened years ago rather than just a few weeks. The history and spiritual significance of what I have seen this last week has left me reeling. I think it will take me months - if not years - to really unpack all this in my mind and heart. Although this will not do the trip justice, here's a quick rundown of the last seven days:
Tuesday (Amman, Jordan)
• Petra: including the Treasury, the Monastery;
Traveling with a friend, at the Treasury, Petra, Jordan.
Wednesday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Amman Tour;
• Mt. Nebo (Moses view into Cannan);
• Qumran (discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls);
• Masada;
• Damascus Gate and the Old City by night;
A 360° panorama of the Promised Land as seen by Moses on Mt. Nebo.
Thursday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Palestine;
• Bethlehem;
• Church of the Nativity;
• Mount of Olives;
• Garden of Gethsemene;
• Church of the Agony;
• Caiphasus' House (Psalms 88);
• Ben Yahuda Street;
Ancient olive tree within the Garden of Gethsemane, Jerusalem.
Friday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Southern Wall;
• Western Wall;
• Dome of the Rock;
• Israel Museum, Model of Jerusalem;
• Dead Sea Scrolls;
• Garden Tomb;
• Jaffa Gate;
Praying at the Western Wall of the Dome of the Rock, Jerusalem.
Saturday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• St. Anne's Church;
• Pool of Bethesda;
• Via Dolorosa: EcceHomo, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Ethiopian Church;
• Upper Room;
• Jericho: Zaccheus's Tree, Temptation Mountain, Jericho Old City;
• Dead Sea;
Sunday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Caesarea-Maretima (Acts 10);
• Mt. Megiddo, Jezreel Valley, Mt. Carmel in the distance;
• Precipice; Mt. Tabor;
• Cana;
• Tiberias;
Monday (Tiberias, Israel)
• Magdela (of Mary fame);
• Mount of Beatitudes;
• Sea of Galilee (Mark 4);
• Ancient Boat;
• Feeding of the 5,000; Church of the Loaves and Fishes (Mark 6; John 21);
• Capernaum, Peter's House (Matthew 8);
• Jordan River (baptisms of group members);
• Bet She'an (where David eulogizes Saul and Jonathan).
Wow. That is an itinerary I would have never expected of myself, ne'er to mention a group of sexta/septa/octogenarians. I have new-found respect for what travel agents, tour guides, and bus drivers do.
The trip has certainly had some funnier moments...if not to everyone, then at least to me. Here are some of the more entertaining comments I have overheard:
• "Do they call them 'mosaics' because they were made at the time of Moses?"
• "Boy, howdy. I bet those ladies sure are hot in their moomoos"...referring to Muslim women wearing burkas.
• "If I lived here, I'd be Greek Orthodox...because their churches use air conditioning."
• "Did they use some of the stones from the Egyptian pyramids to build the temple in Jerusalem?"
• "My feet are really hurting...but only when I walk."
• In the song Hosanna to the King, one woman sang "Hosanna, do your thing."
• 'I've never seen so many ancient things in one place.' [I confess. I said this one day after waiting interminably while an orthopaedic surgeon's dream-team boarded the bus.]
I've just sent my tour group back across the Jordanian border. They fly home from Amman tomorrow morning. I was supposed to join them for this last night, but it didn't make sense for me to go from Israel to Jordan only to come back across the border tomorrow to get to Tel Aviv tomorrow. SO, I'm finishing this blog entry from the back of a public bus, using their free wifi and commuting from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. Again, no hotel reservation awaiting me. But this makes for the most exciting kind of travel! I'll spend the night in Tel Aviv and next day exploring the city, ending up in the airport toward midnight. My flight home departs on Wednesday morning at 4:30AM and I'm anticipating a long process of getting through immigration.
Hoping to write some summary thoughts tomorrow. But we'll see. Much love, all. Thank you for reading along.
Michael
• Although we were traveling by bus, we still managed to take bathroom breaks at least once an hour;
• The group always moves slowly and methodically. No matter how long I tarry, I'm always able to catch up to the group;
• Comfortable beds are a necessity, rather than luxury;
• Both breakfast and dinner are provided at the hotel, plentifully supplied with easy-to-chew and high-fiber options;
• Messages are repeated 14 times for various reasons: denial about needing hearing aids OR battery failure in said hearing aids OR folks were in the bathroom;
• If I forget anything - tissue, a warm scarf, how to use the elevator - I'm surrounded by those who, unsolicited, are more than ready to help me remember;
• Ironically, if any of them forget anything - the day of the week, where they are, their name - I am there to help them remember;
• I get to ride the elevator without shame everywhere we go...and they let me push the buttons!
• Buses - yes, those hated buses - pick us up at the very door of the hotel and whisk us to the very entrance of the scheduled sites, and are then waiting for us at the exit.
• And finally, I get to be the youngest person in any gathering, feeling downright vibrant and zippy by comparison!
I am also overwhelmed by the staggering number of places I have visited in just the last seven days. When I remember the places I visited in Greece and Turkey, it feels like that happened years ago rather than just a few weeks. The history and spiritual significance of what I have seen this last week has left me reeling. I think it will take me months - if not years - to really unpack all this in my mind and heart. Although this will not do the trip justice, here's a quick rundown of the last seven days:
Tuesday (Amman, Jordan)
• Petra: including the Treasury, the Monastery;
Traveling with a friend, at the Treasury, Petra, Jordan.
Wednesday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Amman Tour;
• Mt. Nebo (Moses view into Cannan);
• Qumran (discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls);
• Masada;
• Damascus Gate and the Old City by night;
A 360° panorama of the Promised Land as seen by Moses on Mt. Nebo.
Thursday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Palestine;
• Bethlehem;
• Church of the Nativity;
• Mount of Olives;
• Garden of Gethsemene;
• Church of the Agony;
• Caiphasus' House (Psalms 88);
• Ben Yahuda Street;
Ancient olive tree within the Garden of Gethsemane, Jerusalem.
Friday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Southern Wall;
• Western Wall;
• Dome of the Rock;
• Israel Museum, Model of Jerusalem;
• Dead Sea Scrolls;
• Garden Tomb;
• Jaffa Gate;
Praying at the Western Wall of the Dome of the Rock, Jerusalem.
Saturday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• St. Anne's Church;
• Pool of Bethesda;
• Via Dolorosa: EcceHomo, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Ethiopian Church;
• Upper Room;
• Jericho: Zaccheus's Tree, Temptation Mountain, Jericho Old City;
• Dead Sea;
Sunday (Jerusalem, Israel)
• Caesarea-Maretima (Acts 10);
• Mt. Megiddo, Jezreel Valley, Mt. Carmel in the distance;
• Precipice; Mt. Tabor;
• Cana;
• Tiberias;
Monday (Tiberias, Israel)
• Magdela (of Mary fame);
• Mount of Beatitudes;
• Sea of Galilee (Mark 4);
• Ancient Boat;
• Feeding of the 5,000; Church of the Loaves and Fishes (Mark 6; John 21);
• Capernaum, Peter's House (Matthew 8);
• Jordan River (baptisms of group members);
• Bet She'an (where David eulogizes Saul and Jonathan).
Wow. That is an itinerary I would have never expected of myself, ne'er to mention a group of sexta/septa/octogenarians. I have new-found respect for what travel agents, tour guides, and bus drivers do.
The trip has certainly had some funnier moments...if not to everyone, then at least to me. Here are some of the more entertaining comments I have overheard:
• "Do they call them 'mosaics' because they were made at the time of Moses?"
• "Boy, howdy. I bet those ladies sure are hot in their moomoos"...referring to Muslim women wearing burkas.
• "If I lived here, I'd be Greek Orthodox...because their churches use air conditioning."
• "Did they use some of the stones from the Egyptian pyramids to build the temple in Jerusalem?"
• "My feet are really hurting...but only when I walk."
• In the song Hosanna to the King, one woman sang "Hosanna, do your thing."
• 'I've never seen so many ancient things in one place.' [I confess. I said this one day after waiting interminably while an orthopaedic surgeon's dream-team boarded the bus.]
I've just sent my tour group back across the Jordanian border. They fly home from Amman tomorrow morning. I was supposed to join them for this last night, but it didn't make sense for me to go from Israel to Jordan only to come back across the border tomorrow to get to Tel Aviv tomorrow. SO, I'm finishing this blog entry from the back of a public bus, using their free wifi and commuting from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. Again, no hotel reservation awaiting me. But this makes for the most exciting kind of travel! I'll spend the night in Tel Aviv and next day exploring the city, ending up in the airport toward midnight. My flight home departs on Wednesday morning at 4:30AM and I'm anticipating a long process of getting through immigration.
Hoping to write some summary thoughts tomorrow. But we'll see. Much love, all. Thank you for reading along.
Michael
Location:יציאה לכביש 1,,Israel
23 October 2011
20 October 2011
Celebrating Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles) with the other Chosen. L'chaim!
18 October 2011
It keeps me cool and looks good. I suppose you could call it a 'Bedouin-Win' situation.
15 October 2011
I want to live in Turkey!
It has been much too long sınce I've sat down and wrıtten out my thoughts. Even now, I'm not certaın I'll be able to manage thıs on a Turkısh keyboard. Some of the most ımportant keys are ın dıfferent spots. You mıght notıce my lowercase "ı" ıs mıssıng ıt's dot. Congratulatıons on your attentıon to detaıl. I cannot for the lıfe of me fıgure out where that key ıs. Though ınterestıngly enough, İ can wrıte a capıtal İ wıth a dot just fıne. I'm certaın that's a metaphor for somethıng.
I've been ın Turkey for almost 10 days, traveling for 22, and stıll have 10 to go. I cannot belıeve how fast thıs trıp has gone and ıt has been quite an experience. Different than goıng on a one or two week vacatıon when I spend most of my tıme ın ıt's-so-nıce-to-be-away mode, beıng gone for thıs long really gıves the vacatıon's "newness" a chance to wear off. Soon enough, all the old neuroses, ınsecurıtıes, fears, habıts, and selfıshness shows up lıke lost luggage. It's been ınterestıng to me to watch how I've handled those thıngs dıfferently wıthout the companıonshıp of communıty. I fınd ıt ıs easıer to just set those thıngs asıde and go about my plans for the day of sıght-seeıng thıs or tourıng that and manage to forget whatever meddlesome struggle poked at me earlıer ın the day. I don't thınk thıs ıs necessarıly a good thıng. Some mıght say 'settıng thıngs asıde' sounds all peaceful and Buddhısh. Rather, it feels to me, more lıke denıal or closing my eyes whıle standıng on the tracks of a traın. I suppose we can add 'melancholic foreboding' to my list of stowaways.
I've realızed there ıs another reason I lıke travelıng: ıt really gıves me a break from the constant chorus of the 'other perspectıve' I have runnıng ın my head. Sometımes ıt ıs not untıl I am mıssıng somethıng that I realıze what a large part ıt usually plays ın my lıfe. Thıs sensıtıvıty to others' thoughts or perspectıves ıs usually helpful when ıt takes the form of empathy or wrıtıng wıth a voıce wıth whıch people mıght relate. Beıng alone for the better part of a month, gıves me a bıt of a break from the 'how am I beıng perceıved' or 'does thıs shırt go wıth these pants'. Rather than take thıs as lıcense toward hedonısm, I find myself to be more subdued than usual and wear the same clothes multıple days ın a row. [That remınds me, I need to pıck up my clean laundry ın the next hour or so.]
Beıng ın Turkey for thıs last couple of weeks has really remınded me what ıt ıs about ındependant travel I so enjoy. I have had a number of off-the-beaten-path experıences I probably never would have had were I travelıng wıth a large group or even my wıfe and kıds. Whıle the ısolatıon and ınabılıty to share my experıences with another ın vıvo ıs certaınly a drawback, beıng able to make spontaneous decısıons has gıven me the agılıty to put myself ınto some pretty wonderful sıtuatıons. It ıs late fall ın Turkey and has raıned for most of the days I have been here. In fact, ıt has raıned most every day for the last seven. Whıle I have met travelers who prefer to spend these days readıng, doıng laundry, or hangıng out ın the ınternet cafe, my phılosopy ıs to throw myself out there ınto the thıck of ıt, consıder ıt part of the adventure, and see what comes of ıt. Thıs seems to be a way of thınkıng much easıer for me to do whıle travelıng than when ın my routıne at home. Whıle ın Pamukkale (pam-oo-KAHL-ay) exploring the heıropolıs and travertınes, unbenounced to me the manager of my $17/nıght hotel arranged for me to have lunch at the mountaın vıllage home of hıs best frıend and hıs famıly. He ınformed me of thıs when I returned from sıghtseeıng, soaked to the skın and wantıng nothıng more than a hot bath and bucket-sızed Starbucks Amerıcano. Whether motıvated by the possıbılıty of a unıque cultural exchange or just a free meal, I wıll allow the humble reader to decıde. Regardless, ıt was a wonderful meal wıth the entıre famıly, a sweet (ıf not wholly confusıng) conversatıon between people lımıted to poıntıng and actıng out what they're sayıng. Were our lunch recorded and then vıewed wıthout the sound, you would swear we were playıng some crazy party game. How would you ask ıf the mılk you were drınkıng came from a cow or from a goat?
After lunch, I accompanıed Husseın and hıs wıfe, Emıne, to theır rug shop where they demonstrated how they and others from theır vıllage make both Turkısh rugs and tradıtıonal nomadıc kılım. Whıle I was there, groups of buyers from Istanbul, Ismır, and Ankara, came ın and took delıvery of large orders. It seems I had stumbled onto the manufacturer and wholesaler of Turkısh rugs! Later, Husseın told me he and hıs wıfe were actually featured on an Italıan televısıon specıal about theır regıon of Turkey (see 3:09). After all that good food, multıple glasses of çay, and the sweet hospıtalıty of some very kınd people, ıt would have been a travesty to leave wıthout a rug, especıally sınce he was wıllıng to gıve me hıs wholesale cost! Husseın and I are sıttıng, negotıatıng, and drinking tea in front of what would come to be my rug.
When leavıng Pamukkale, I almost made a gametıme decısıon to skıp Antalya altogether. I am so glad I dıdn't. So far, the two days I spent ın Antalya have been the best two days of my entire vacation so far. It may or may not surprıse you to know the only hotel reservatıons I have had were upon my arrıval ınto Athens at the end of September. Sınce leavıng Athens, I've been showıng up wıth eıther Euros or Lıra ın one hand and wıth my Lonely Planet ın the other, lookıng for a room. Thıs typically works out great when I arrıve someplace early ın the day. However, I had traveled by bus for 5 hours from Pamukkale to Antalya, arrıvıng a lıttle after mıdnıght on Sunday, 9 October, and was stıll a lıttle damp from walking around ın the raın lıke a fool (allow me say ıt for you) wıth my 50 lb.+ backpack. I'll admit it was not the ıdeal sıtuatıon ın whıch to be lookıng for a nıght's lodgıng. After I struck out wıth the fırst few places, a 21 year old ran up to me and ınvıted me to stay ın hıs hotel. After droppıng my stuff ın the room, I went back downstaırs so see ıf the night shift could rustle me up some grub. Fatıh was on desk-duty for the nıght and was wıllıng to fıx me a sandwich and then offered to share his bowl of ıce cream. I stayed up for the next few hours hearıng about the lıfe of thıs young Kurdısh man, far away from home, tryıng to survıve ın a socıety where both he and hıs fellow Kurds are frequent vıctıms of racısm and ethnıc vıolence. Whıle I had certaınly read about the racıal tensıons between Turks, Kurds, and Armenıans, thıs put a face and a narrative to previously dry BBC reports. It was facınatıng to talk wıth Fatıh. Both he and hıs fellow Kurdish coworker, Yahya, had opened the Tropıcal Adalıa Pansıyon ın Antalya a year earlıer and were attemptıng to get a foothold ın the tourıst market. Because I am travelıng at the end of tourıst season - and not to dıscount the raın - I belıeve I was one of the only guests ın the Tropıcal Adalıa. The fırst full day I was there, Yahya took me all around hıs cıty, showıng me the behınd-the-scenes experıence of Antalya. The next day was clearer, and Fatıh accompanıed me to see the parks, monuments, and museums, none of whıch he had ever seen, whether because of cost or his sıngle-mınded focus on gettıng the hotel off the ground. We had a fantastıc day, usıng Google Translator on my ıPhone to dıscuss topıcs typıcally ınaccessıble to new frıends wıth uncommon language. Fatıh even took me to hıs favorıte place to drınk çay and play backgammon with friends.
It was really the most fantastic kind of day, precisely the type of serendipitous connection with another human being who embodies the culture I sought to explore in Turkey. That type of mutual exchange of information, culture, friendship, and life cannot be planned, purchased or prompted. It can only be received for the gift it is. I think Fatih was as curious about me and America as I was about him and Turkey. At the end of the day while accompanying me to the bus station for my nine hour, overnight bus to Cappadocia, Fatih began to spontaneously sing. Whether prompted by our conversation or the the joy we were both feeling from sharing such an enriching day, it was really something special. Although the quality does not do the content justice, I hope my set-up helps capture the sweetness of the moment.
After leaving Antalya, I continued to Cappadocia and then on to Istanbul, both fantastic beyond my ability to describe. My hope was to write more while in Turkey. I have become so enchanted with the people and culture of Turkey, I have elected to be a participant rather than observer. While I could have muscled through and stayed on my itinerary, being open to these serendipitous experiences has deepened and enriched my experience of Turkey in a way I could not have imagined. And yet, I feel as if I barely scratched the surface. Fatih and Yahya have invited me to return to Turkey and with advance notice, to accompany them to deep east Turkey as their guest and recipient of their families' hospitality. I can't wait to return!
As I am writing this entry, I am flying from Istanbul to Amman on Royal Jordanian Airlines. Once I arrive, I'll be meeting up with my parents and their church tour group, comprised of 30+ "active seniors", as promoted by my mom. For the next 10 days in Jordan and Israel, I will be traveling very differently than the previous three weeks: all my food, accommodations, and tours are pre-paid and pre-decided. While it is a nice break to have a set hotel and itinerary, that way of traveling potentially sanitizes the experience and removes both risk and serendipity. However - I remind myself - the purpose of my trip is to have a wonderful shared experience with my parents and see this ancient part of the world. While independant travel is always my preferred medium of engaging the world, there are times when other priorities take precedence. I'm putting this into print to remind myself, you understand. And, after all, who's to say routine of going to bed at 5:30PM and eating a high-fiber diet won't be good for me in the long run, anyway!
The next time I write, I will be in Jordan. Shallah! Thank you for reading along, friend!
Michael
PS Dıd you happen to catch on the news thıs week that Turkey beat Real Madrıd, securıng theır spot ın the European Soccer Play-offs? It dıdn't slıp past the Turks. I caught theır celebratıon comıng down Istıkal Caddesı thıs afternoon. I have to admıt, however, at fırst I dıdn't know whether to thınk 'protest, rıot, or demonstratıon'. Regardless, ıt was very excıtıng.
I've been ın Turkey for almost 10 days, traveling for 22, and stıll have 10 to go. I cannot belıeve how fast thıs trıp has gone and ıt has been quite an experience. Different than goıng on a one or two week vacatıon when I spend most of my tıme ın ıt's-so-nıce-to-be-away mode, beıng gone for thıs long really gıves the vacatıon's "newness" a chance to wear off. Soon enough, all the old neuroses, ınsecurıtıes, fears, habıts, and selfıshness shows up lıke lost luggage. It's been ınterestıng to me to watch how I've handled those thıngs dıfferently wıthout the companıonshıp of communıty. I fınd ıt ıs easıer to just set those thıngs asıde and go about my plans for the day of sıght-seeıng thıs or tourıng that and manage to forget whatever meddlesome struggle poked at me earlıer ın the day. I don't thınk thıs ıs necessarıly a good thıng. Some mıght say 'settıng thıngs asıde' sounds all peaceful and Buddhısh. Rather, it feels to me, more lıke denıal or closing my eyes whıle standıng on the tracks of a traın. I suppose we can add 'melancholic foreboding' to my list of stowaways.
I've realızed there ıs another reason I lıke travelıng: ıt really gıves me a break from the constant chorus of the 'other perspectıve' I have runnıng ın my head. Sometımes ıt ıs not untıl I am mıssıng somethıng that I realıze what a large part ıt usually plays ın my lıfe. Thıs sensıtıvıty to others' thoughts or perspectıves ıs usually helpful when ıt takes the form of empathy or wrıtıng wıth a voıce wıth whıch people mıght relate. Beıng alone for the better part of a month, gıves me a bıt of a break from the 'how am I beıng perceıved' or 'does thıs shırt go wıth these pants'. Rather than take thıs as lıcense toward hedonısm, I find myself to be more subdued than usual and wear the same clothes multıple days ın a row. [That remınds me, I need to pıck up my clean laundry ın the next hour or so.]
Beıng ın Turkey for thıs last couple of weeks has really remınded me what ıt ıs about ındependant travel I so enjoy. I have had a number of off-the-beaten-path experıences I probably never would have had were I travelıng wıth a large group or even my wıfe and kıds. Whıle the ısolatıon and ınabılıty to share my experıences with another ın vıvo ıs certaınly a drawback, beıng able to make spontaneous decısıons has gıven me the agılıty to put myself ınto some pretty wonderful sıtuatıons. It ıs late fall ın Turkey and has raıned for most of the days I have been here. In fact, ıt has raıned most every day for the last seven. Whıle I have met travelers who prefer to spend these days readıng, doıng laundry, or hangıng out ın the ınternet cafe, my phılosopy ıs to throw myself out there ınto the thıck of ıt, consıder ıt part of the adventure, and see what comes of ıt. Thıs seems to be a way of thınkıng much easıer for me to do whıle travelıng than when ın my routıne at home. Whıle ın Pamukkale (pam-oo-KAHL-ay) exploring the heıropolıs and travertınes, unbenounced to me the manager of my $17/nıght hotel arranged for me to have lunch at the mountaın vıllage home of hıs best frıend and hıs famıly. He ınformed me of thıs when I returned from sıghtseeıng, soaked to the skın and wantıng nothıng more than a hot bath and bucket-sızed Starbucks Amerıcano. Whether motıvated by the possıbılıty of a unıque cultural exchange or just a free meal, I wıll allow the humble reader to decıde. Regardless, ıt was a wonderful meal wıth the entıre famıly, a sweet (ıf not wholly confusıng) conversatıon between people lımıted to poıntıng and actıng out what they're sayıng. Were our lunch recorded and then vıewed wıthout the sound, you would swear we were playıng some crazy party game. How would you ask ıf the mılk you were drınkıng came from a cow or from a goat?
After lunch, I accompanıed Husseın and hıs wıfe, Emıne, to theır rug shop where they demonstrated how they and others from theır vıllage make both Turkısh rugs and tradıtıonal nomadıc kılım. Whıle I was there, groups of buyers from Istanbul, Ismır, and Ankara, came ın and took delıvery of large orders. It seems I had stumbled onto the manufacturer and wholesaler of Turkısh rugs! Later, Husseın told me he and hıs wıfe were actually featured on an Italıan televısıon specıal about theır regıon of Turkey (see 3:09). After all that good food, multıple glasses of çay, and the sweet hospıtalıty of some very kınd people, ıt would have been a travesty to leave wıthout a rug, especıally sınce he was wıllıng to gıve me hıs wholesale cost! Husseın and I are sıttıng, negotıatıng, and drinking tea in front of what would come to be my rug.
When leavıng Pamukkale, I almost made a gametıme decısıon to skıp Antalya altogether. I am so glad I dıdn't. So far, the two days I spent ın Antalya have been the best two days of my entire vacation so far. It may or may not surprıse you to know the only hotel reservatıons I have had were upon my arrıval ınto Athens at the end of September. Sınce leavıng Athens, I've been showıng up wıth eıther Euros or Lıra ın one hand and wıth my Lonely Planet ın the other, lookıng for a room. Thıs typically works out great when I arrıve someplace early ın the day. However, I had traveled by bus for 5 hours from Pamukkale to Antalya, arrıvıng a lıttle after mıdnıght on Sunday, 9 October, and was stıll a lıttle damp from walking around ın the raın lıke a fool (allow me say ıt for you) wıth my 50 lb.+ backpack. I'll admit it was not the ıdeal sıtuatıon ın whıch to be lookıng for a nıght's lodgıng. After I struck out wıth the fırst few places, a 21 year old ran up to me and ınvıted me to stay ın hıs hotel. After droppıng my stuff ın the room, I went back downstaırs so see ıf the night shift could rustle me up some grub. Fatıh was on desk-duty for the nıght and was wıllıng to fıx me a sandwich and then offered to share his bowl of ıce cream. I stayed up for the next few hours hearıng about the lıfe of thıs young Kurdısh man, far away from home, tryıng to survıve ın a socıety where both he and hıs fellow Kurds are frequent vıctıms of racısm and ethnıc vıolence. Whıle I had certaınly read about the racıal tensıons between Turks, Kurds, and Armenıans, thıs put a face and a narrative to previously dry BBC reports. It was facınatıng to talk wıth Fatıh. Both he and hıs fellow Kurdish coworker, Yahya, had opened the Tropıcal Adalıa Pansıyon ın Antalya a year earlıer and were attemptıng to get a foothold ın the tourıst market. Because I am travelıng at the end of tourıst season - and not to dıscount the raın - I belıeve I was one of the only guests ın the Tropıcal Adalıa. The fırst full day I was there, Yahya took me all around hıs cıty, showıng me the behınd-the-scenes experıence of Antalya. The next day was clearer, and Fatıh accompanıed me to see the parks, monuments, and museums, none of whıch he had ever seen, whether because of cost or his sıngle-mınded focus on gettıng the hotel off the ground. We had a fantastıc day, usıng Google Translator on my ıPhone to dıscuss topıcs typıcally ınaccessıble to new frıends wıth uncommon language. Fatıh even took me to hıs favorıte place to drınk çay and play backgammon with friends.
It was really the most fantastic kind of day, precisely the type of serendipitous connection with another human being who embodies the culture I sought to explore in Turkey. That type of mutual exchange of information, culture, friendship, and life cannot be planned, purchased or prompted. It can only be received for the gift it is. I think Fatih was as curious about me and America as I was about him and Turkey. At the end of the day while accompanying me to the bus station for my nine hour, overnight bus to Cappadocia, Fatih began to spontaneously sing. Whether prompted by our conversation or the the joy we were both feeling from sharing such an enriching day, it was really something special. Although the quality does not do the content justice, I hope my set-up helps capture the sweetness of the moment.
After leaving Antalya, I continued to Cappadocia and then on to Istanbul, both fantastic beyond my ability to describe. My hope was to write more while in Turkey. I have become so enchanted with the people and culture of Turkey, I have elected to be a participant rather than observer. While I could have muscled through and stayed on my itinerary, being open to these serendipitous experiences has deepened and enriched my experience of Turkey in a way I could not have imagined. And yet, I feel as if I barely scratched the surface. Fatih and Yahya have invited me to return to Turkey and with advance notice, to accompany them to deep east Turkey as their guest and recipient of their families' hospitality. I can't wait to return!
As I am writing this entry, I am flying from Istanbul to Amman on Royal Jordanian Airlines. Once I arrive, I'll be meeting up with my parents and their church tour group, comprised of 30+ "active seniors", as promoted by my mom. For the next 10 days in Jordan and Israel, I will be traveling very differently than the previous three weeks: all my food, accommodations, and tours are pre-paid and pre-decided. While it is a nice break to have a set hotel and itinerary, that way of traveling potentially sanitizes the experience and removes both risk and serendipity. However - I remind myself - the purpose of my trip is to have a wonderful shared experience with my parents and see this ancient part of the world. While independant travel is always my preferred medium of engaging the world, there are times when other priorities take precedence. I'm putting this into print to remind myself, you understand. And, after all, who's to say routine of going to bed at 5:30PM and eating a high-fiber diet won't be good for me in the long run, anyway!
The next time I write, I will be in Jordan. Shallah! Thank you for reading along, friend!
Michael
PS Dıd you happen to catch on the news thıs week that Turkey beat Real Madrıd, securıng theır spot ın the European Soccer Play-offs? It dıdn't slıp past the Turks. I caught theır celebratıon comıng down Istıkal Caddesı thıs afternoon. I have to admıt, however, at fırst I dıdn't know whether to thınk 'protest, rıot, or demonstratıon'. Regardless, ıt was very excıtıng.
Location:Istanbul, Turkey
14 October 2011
11 October 2011
07 October 2011
After 1 taxi, 2 buses, 2 ferries, and 4 espressos...TURKEY!
05 October 2011
And just when I was thinking 'eating alone' was getting old.
"It's a European Shoulder Bag"
I'm really doing a lot of moving around on this trip. I've not stayed in one place more than two nights. While that's typically long enough to see both the sights and sites and get a sense of the hamlet I'm visiting, my preference would be to go someplace and stay there for a while. For now, however, that really doesn't fit with my philosophy of travel: while I'm "young" and able, I want to see/do as much as I can. I am assuming I will eventually arrive at the point in which I am no longer able nor interested in hiking to the tops of mountain fortresses or lugging a 40 lb. backpack around. Then, my plan is to return to some of the favorite places I've visited, rent a place and spend my time wandering around town, meeting my neighbors, and discovering the bakery with the freshest bread.
That day may be closer than I want to believe. I'm certain the general neglect of my physical health plays a big part, but I'm noticing I'm not snapping back quite as quickly as I have in the past after a full day of climbing, exploring, and traipsing. After leaving Kardamyli, I traveled to the 13th century castle of Monevasia on the southeastern tip of Greece. I'll let you research the specifics, but suffice to say this Gibraltar-like landmass was originally held by the Ottoman Empire, the Byzantines, the Venetians, and finally by the Greeks.
Now, the entire walled village at the base is a Unesco World Heritage site, inaccessible by car, and completely surrounded by water, save a small isthmus connecting it to the mainland. Monemvasia (moh-mehm-VAH-see-ah) actually means "one entrance". I stayed in a 450 year old bedroom converted to a hotel room:
Although normally outside my lean-and-mean travel budget, I've discovered traveling at shoulder-season, showing up at dusk with no reservation, and having cash-in-hand softens those prices right up. And it was worth it! The setting was incredible. I felt like a 13 year old as I explored narrow passages, hiked up and down cobblestone streets, and managed to get lost more than a few times. The day before I left, I hiked to the very top of the rock and explored the citadel:
I took many more photographs during my time in Monemvasia than I can include here. But I will share the sunset I captured on my first day there:
If you've done any traveling in Europe over the last few years, you've probably noticed the disturbing trend of men sculpting their eyebrows. I'm not talking plucking or a general trim, but rather an aggressive, time-consuming, all out effort to reduce the overall footprint of said brow. Although I find it makes the man look like a depilated mannequin, I have just chalked this up to being one of any number of differences I notice in people when traveling. I've just hoped the trend will go the way of the man-purse and stay on this side of the pond. I'll be happy to make an exception for Greek men, however. Did you know Bert is Greek?
Although I have a strong preference for independent travel, there is a large contingent of the world that visits far off lands by tour bus. These buses are lined up at most locations like Baptists at Luby's Sunday lunch. I usually endure their large amorphous mass as it slowly moves from one shady spot to the next, following their obnoxiously entitled, purple umbrella toting tour guide. I have the advantage: I'm alone, informed, and agile. I'm a gazelle. However, after many long days of travel, more than my share of Greek salads, and accommodating the disproportionately misrepresented number of Germans, I get a little passive-aggressive. Today at the Mycenae ruins just to the south of Athens (think home of Agamemnon, Achilles, Odysseus, and givers of the Trojan Horse), I acted out a little. At the very end of the path through the ruins, there is a very deep, dark tunnel leading to the underground cistern:
Using the light on my iPhone, I had traveled very deeply, all the way to the waterline and was working my way back up the stairs when I heard the melodic tones of German teenagers decending the stairs...sans flashlight. I quickly turned off my light and waited in the shadows. As the girls came around the corner, eyes still adjusting to the center-of-the-earth darkness swallowing them, I quietly began making my very best angry vampire noise...and moving toward them. I'm really not sure what happened next. I just started shrieking and running toward them, past them, then emerging from the mouth of the pit before they could regain their wits. I do remember the echoes of their screams still ringing in my head as I contentedly strolled toward the museum.
As I'm writing this missive, I am currently aboard the Blue Star 2, crossing the Aegean and headed toward the island of Patmos, the island to which the apostle John was exiled from Ephesus. This is the same John, the disciple who Jesus loved, who wrote the book of Revelation. I can't wait. However, this is not the friendliest of travel itineraries: the only boats to Patmos leave at 7PM and arrive at 2:15AM...just a little over three hours from now. Because my sources tell me people with rooms to rent meet the arriving boat, I have not made any arrangements for my accommodations. Worst case scenario, I can pull out my sleeping bag and sleep in the park. [This is exactly the type of detail I intentionally omit when sharing my itinerary with my mother.] I figured if John could do it, I can handle it for one night. But I'm certain it'll work out. Famous last words... I'll be on Patmos until Friday and then travel to Kusadasi, the southwestern Aegean port of Turkey, and gateway to Ephesus!
Thank you for reading, praying, and staying in touch with me, friends. I'm having a great time but I'd be lying if I didn't say I am feeling a bit of the isolation that comes with traveling alone...or with a bunch of people who don't speak my language. Wish you were here!
UPDATE: I arrived at 2:15AM this morning on the ferry. As I was hoping, I met a woman at the port named "Susanna" who rents little studio apartments to travelers. [She's a single mother of three girls - 7, 11, 16 - who meets 4-5 boats a day, apparently at all hours, to keep her rooms full and make ends meet.] Turns out to be one of the most comfortable AND cheapest I've stayed in so far. I've rented a 4-wheeler and am exploring the island...or will as soon as I've checked the interwebs. First things first, after all. I've also found out there is a special liturgy tonight from 8PM-1AM at the St. John the Apostle church. Susanna is going and has invited me to join her. Let's hope it's not my wedding I've been invited to attend ;-)
That day may be closer than I want to believe. I'm certain the general neglect of my physical health plays a big part, but I'm noticing I'm not snapping back quite as quickly as I have in the past after a full day of climbing, exploring, and traipsing. After leaving Kardamyli, I traveled to the 13th century castle of Monevasia on the southeastern tip of Greece. I'll let you research the specifics, but suffice to say this Gibraltar-like landmass was originally held by the Ottoman Empire, the Byzantines, the Venetians, and finally by the Greeks.
Now, the entire walled village at the base is a Unesco World Heritage site, inaccessible by car, and completely surrounded by water, save a small isthmus connecting it to the mainland. Monemvasia (moh-mehm-VAH-see-ah) actually means "one entrance". I stayed in a 450 year old bedroom converted to a hotel room:
Although normally outside my lean-and-mean travel budget, I've discovered traveling at shoulder-season, showing up at dusk with no reservation, and having cash-in-hand softens those prices right up. And it was worth it! The setting was incredible. I felt like a 13 year old as I explored narrow passages, hiked up and down cobblestone streets, and managed to get lost more than a few times. The day before I left, I hiked to the very top of the rock and explored the citadel:
I took many more photographs during my time in Monemvasia than I can include here. But I will share the sunset I captured on my first day there:
If you've done any traveling in Europe over the last few years, you've probably noticed the disturbing trend of men sculpting their eyebrows. I'm not talking plucking or a general trim, but rather an aggressive, time-consuming, all out effort to reduce the overall footprint of said brow. Although I find it makes the man look like a depilated mannequin, I have just chalked this up to being one of any number of differences I notice in people when traveling. I've just hoped the trend will go the way of the man-purse and stay on this side of the pond. I'll be happy to make an exception for Greek men, however. Did you know Bert is Greek?
Although I have a strong preference for independent travel, there is a large contingent of the world that visits far off lands by tour bus. These buses are lined up at most locations like Baptists at Luby's Sunday lunch. I usually endure their large amorphous mass as it slowly moves from one shady spot to the next, following their obnoxiously entitled, purple umbrella toting tour guide. I have the advantage: I'm alone, informed, and agile. I'm a gazelle. However, after many long days of travel, more than my share of Greek salads, and accommodating the disproportionately misrepresented number of Germans, I get a little passive-aggressive. Today at the Mycenae ruins just to the south of Athens (think home of Agamemnon, Achilles, Odysseus, and givers of the Trojan Horse), I acted out a little. At the very end of the path through the ruins, there is a very deep, dark tunnel leading to the underground cistern:
Using the light on my iPhone, I had traveled very deeply, all the way to the waterline and was working my way back up the stairs when I heard the melodic tones of German teenagers decending the stairs...sans flashlight. I quickly turned off my light and waited in the shadows. As the girls came around the corner, eyes still adjusting to the center-of-the-earth darkness swallowing them, I quietly began making my very best angry vampire noise...and moving toward them. I'm really not sure what happened next. I just started shrieking and running toward them, past them, then emerging from the mouth of the pit before they could regain their wits. I do remember the echoes of their screams still ringing in my head as I contentedly strolled toward the museum.
As I'm writing this missive, I am currently aboard the Blue Star 2, crossing the Aegean and headed toward the island of Patmos, the island to which the apostle John was exiled from Ephesus. This is the same John, the disciple who Jesus loved, who wrote the book of Revelation. I can't wait. However, this is not the friendliest of travel itineraries: the only boats to Patmos leave at 7PM and arrive at 2:15AM...just a little over three hours from now. Because my sources tell me people with rooms to rent meet the arriving boat, I have not made any arrangements for my accommodations. Worst case scenario, I can pull out my sleeping bag and sleep in the park. [This is exactly the type of detail I intentionally omit when sharing my itinerary with my mother.] I figured if John could do it, I can handle it for one night. But I'm certain it'll work out. Famous last words... I'll be on Patmos until Friday and then travel to Kusadasi, the southwestern Aegean port of Turkey, and gateway to Ephesus!
Thank you for reading, praying, and staying in touch with me, friends. I'm having a great time but I'd be lying if I didn't say I am feeling a bit of the isolation that comes with traveling alone...or with a bunch of people who don't speak my language. Wish you were here!
UPDATE: I arrived at 2:15AM this morning on the ferry. As I was hoping, I met a woman at the port named "Susanna" who rents little studio apartments to travelers. [She's a single mother of three girls - 7, 11, 16 - who meets 4-5 boats a day, apparently at all hours, to keep her rooms full and make ends meet.] Turns out to be one of the most comfortable AND cheapest I've stayed in so far. I've rented a 4-wheeler and am exploring the island...or will as soon as I've checked the interwebs. First things first, after all. I've also found out there is a special liturgy tonight from 8PM-1AM at the St. John the Apostle church. Susanna is going and has invited me to join her. Let's hope it's not my wedding I've been invited to attend ;-)
Location:Middle of the Aegean Sea
04 October 2011
Left Piraeus Port, Athens, almost 5 hours ago, sailing toward the island of Patmos. Arriving at 2:30AM.
02 October 2011
I'm in Sparta, home of the legendary Spartan warriors...and all I can think of is Will Ferrell.
01 October 2011
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