Introduction to Turkey

It was bound to happen sooner or later, hitting that wall.

During the Fethiye, Turkey bound ferry, I acknowledged (to myself as Larissa, who can sleep anywhere, was sleeping) the great times we've had and the adventures to come, but I secretly hoped, after nearly three months of planes, trains, buses, taxis, and walks every two weeks, to end the two hour ride from Greece swallowed by the shadows of New York's beautifully looming skyline.

Priveleged complaint? Sure, but at that moment, surrounded by shirtless and hairy Turkish men all built like refrigerators, I was tired, sticky (I've now converted to the shirtless ways. Chest hair coming soon, I'm sure), and longing for my own bed and some routine.

Underlying my discomfort was the fact that I was en route to a country that I know very little about. I don't need to be a scholar, but I prefer to know certain information: the capital (Ankara! Not Istanbul); a scan of the economic and political headlines (this guy is my favorite, check out his archives); history (yep, wiki); and how to say hello ("merhaba"). I didn't know any of the above, and I'm still trying to figure out how to enjoy the current country while researching the next. Maybe I could've started with.. Not using Orhan Pamuk's "Istanbul: Memories and the City" as a pillow on the Greek beach.

My annoyance with my ignorance simmered for two hours on the Mediterranean until, as the ferry slowed and Fethiye appeared, I was suddenly overcome by childish excitement. This is where we anchored:

A port city built at the base of a mountain range! Nice.

And so began an incredible introduction to Turkey: the unexpected landscape, the customs official stealing four euros from me, which was exciting for some reason; Turkish travelers in line with us and their outpouring of financial support as we stood at the gate thirty euros short (45 euro entrance fee for Canadians!); and the storybook hospitality of Gulhayat Durdu Kalsen.

Once we cleared customs, we got lost on our way to the hotel. Actually, that's not entirely true since we followed Google's directions to the exact spot. And at the destination, which was outside the town center and tourist zone, there was no hotel, just a family's home. At that point, both exhaling the second wind that our Fethiye arrival gave us, we started dragging our feet down the same dirt road that took us twenty minutes to walk up (not fun with heavy backpacks).

Halfway down, Larissa smiled and waved to a woman who was leaning her elbows on the second floor windowsill, trying to catch an early evening breeze. She smiled back with such warmth that I immediately thought, now there's someone I'd trust with my lunch money. Or something like that. Nevertheless, we weren't completely taken aback when, in broken English, she asked where we're from and if we'd like some chai (tea). With perhaps too little hesitation, we accepted. She met us on the porch, asked if we'd like to shower or at least wash our faces in the outdoor sink, and then brought out some tea, a basket of bread, a pot of tomato stew, and a pot of rice stuffed peppers.

Now completely taken aback, we enjoyed the meal (she kept heaping more onto our plates) with a lot of smiles, hand gestures, broken English, and Turkish lessons (table, spoon, fork, pot, chair, etc.).

We left Gulyahat's home with correct directions to the hotel, a bag of figs, and astonishment over her hospitality. We left feeling happy, energized, and excited to learn about Turkey.