Salvador made my day, Turkey didn't.

Hello Joofers,

Disclaimer: My apologies to all Turks that I know and love but I was quite frustrated today. Of course these observations do not extend to all Turks.

As a little background info, my favorite artist for years has been Salvador Dali. It is in fact why I originally became interested in Spain.

Today Rana and I got up early and headed to the Salvador Dali Exhibit that has been on display in Istanbul for about a month now. Time and again we tried to go but something had impeded our trip each time. Today only heavy rain tried relentlessly to persuade us to turn back. We persevered and walked into the Museum at around 11 am.

We were searched thoroughly until the beepy machine didn't go beepy anymore. Apparently museum security is quite tight. As tight as Dali's mustache. We walked into the first room and saw about a hundred people crowding around little snipits of info pasted on the wall about Salvador. At the end of the very crowded area was a lovely photograph of him. Seen here. What a dashing fellow humm? As I took this photograph a woman bumped into to me. Why? because she was attempting to video tape the entirety of the gallery, every photo, every word. My "tacky" meter went off, and it just went downhill from there.

As Rana and I walked to the first room of paintings we became acutely aware that we were less important than all of the other people there. As we were admiring a lovely piece entitled, "Two Pieces of Bread Expressing the Sentiment of Love," shown here, we were shoved aside by a woman using one those obnoxious little cell phone talky wands that tell you information completely unrelated to the painting when you punch in the numbers. We gave her the evil eye but she seemed in no way perturbed that she had walked right in front of us. Apparently the talky wand had told her that museum etiquette was passe.

Ok Ok we thought, calm yourselves, it's just one lady I'm sure the other people here has some respect for art. Wrong again. We walked to another painting, one of my personal favorites (well now it is), The Grape Pickers: Bacchus's Chariot.As we were admiring it a man stepped in front of us and took a FLASH photograph of the painting. Now look I understand that the people don't feel the need to follow all of the rules. I've seen how they drive but for gods sake this is a rule I can't believe anyone who cares about art would break. (Therein lies the rub as they say) Flash photography causes great damage to paintings. It only takes a few times. ERRRR.

We then made our way into a small hallway that had a video playing at the far end. It was a previously unfinished animated short by Salvador Dali and Walt Disney, Cool! It was called Destino. It was by far the coolest thing I had ever seen by Disney. As we watched it, a Turkish woman videotaped the whole thing on her camera. Tacky alert at dangerous levels! If you want check Destino out here. (Yes I do realize the irony of posting a camcorder version of the video but go with it)

We then went to the sketch area which really turned out to be our favorite because it contained most of the work we had not seen before. Rana and I exchanged pained glances as a girl barged her way in front of us and proceeded to take a picture of each and every one but never stopped long enough to look at one. I guess she was saving them for later. Here are a few of our favorites, taken without flash.



I particularly like the dresses! So swoopy and angular respectively. We also looked at a bunch of pieces he did for New York magazines and Newspapers during is 8 years in the US. My favorite was this high society piece for The American Weekly. Dead and drunk aristocrats enjoy a field of burning giraffes. How cool would it have been to see Dali's work in your local newspaper? Right after I took this a woman who had decided to take a video of all of the newspaper clippings backed right into Rana. I gave her an "Excuse me!" in Turkish but just as the others, she did not acknowledge that she had done anything wrong.

As we approached the water color section a elementary school class entered the exhibit with their teachers. They quickly raised the volume level about ten times and proceeded to smash kick and push eachout around each painting only to take a quick picture with they cell phones (yes they had them) and push and fight to get to the next painting.

All the while the "guards" stood by.

I found this amazing booty playfully painted by a master over 50 years prior. I loved it in the rising din. We envisioned her luxurious posterior as a kind of port in the storm of uncouth museum goers. We stayed a little while longer but we'd kind of had it at this point.

On our way out we got in line to get our coats from the check. A line as clear as day mind you. This woman walked in front of all of us and gave the valet her ticket. She and her two umbrellas were apparently more important than the 12 people in line.

THIS shit happens all the time and I'm tired of it.

We finally made it out feeling relieved to exit an exhibit of my favorite artist. There's something wrong with that. Rana remarked later how she wasn't sure if we were in a museum or at a football match.

Look I'm the last person to be culturally insensitive but WTF Turks? I thought museum culture was UNIVERSAL. I felt as if no one in there had ever before been to a museum. Art isn't an amusement park or local celebrity, it is beauty. It seemed that someone had put all this time and resource into bring a famous exhibition to Istanbul but the patrons did not have the cultural awareness, sensitivity or courtesy to appreciate it.

...

Out side men who peacefully fished in the Bosporus were probably oblivious to the very existence of Salvador Dali. Indeed a great portion of the people in the museum seemed to suffer from the same oblivity.

A Turkey in Turkey

Yeah you guessed it.
I know it's a bit late but this is the first of my holiday posts from outside the US :( so it took a while. It has been quite a while since I have been out of the US for Thanksgiving, in fact I may never have missed one with the family. This year the comical situation was not wasted on me. A Turkey in Turkey was I.

Rana's friend Brian arrived on Thanksgiving proper and we showed him around the city. It was a kick to have another American around. We decided to have a bit o ye olde feast at our house the next day so that working folk could come. On Friday I got up at around 9 and started cooking. I made stuffing and and prepared dough for my mother's famous parkerhouse rolls. Butter was my friend.

Rana showed Brian around the city while I slaved away. We had really hard time actually locating a turkey, the IRONY! The night before Özgür, Rana Cousin, saved the day by finding one. It was about 12 lbs and when I asked my mom about cooking instructions for such a beast she replied, "Well I've never made one that small before." Ha! I was lucky to get one at all.

So undaunted I went it alone. Funny thing is in Turkey they don't mess around. You know when you get a frozen turkey in the US all the bits are nicely packaged in side in a plastic bag. Not here. All they did was snip off the head. I had to wrestle with that bad boy for 10 minutes to cut off the neck. Thing was 8 inches long. When Rana got home she couldn't bear the site of the disembodied neck so Brian and I took care of it. I know the video is kinda dark but enjoy.

Finally we stuffed it and popped it in the oven. Then Kim and Ali arrived and the potato making commenced. There are few people funnier or more fun to cook with than my lovely girlfriend and Mrs. Kimberly Öztürk (That's the first time I called her that. You may remember a certain post at her wedding.)

Kim making the best mashed potatoes!!!

Anyway mashed potatoes flavored with Parmesan and garlic graced the tabled along with stuffing, the bird, we even made our own gravy. It was great. Much was drunk and we all seemed to have a wee of a time. Check out the happy faces below.

Me carving my first Bird!!!

The Whole Crew!

Republic Day in Turkey

And we're back...
I write quickly as I have no idea when my blog will again be blocked, but for today we are live!

Today we'll be discussing Turkish 4th of July! So there we were hoping to go see our friend last night when out of the blue Turkish 4th of July fell on us like a cart fully of disgruntled chickens.

They closed roads leading everywhere in every direction. Immediately we were stranded. So when in Rome...but we weren't in Rome we were in Istanbul, we did our best to blend in but failed miserably. It's hard to look like you belong when you don't know the patriotic songs and such. I tried to sing along with the American national anthem, no dice. The streets were completely flooded with excited revelers. It was literally difficult to walk 10 feet without being whacked with a Turkish flag.

As with any holiday the occasion brought out the entrepreneur in everyone. There were almost more places to buy paraphernalia than there were people. It was like seething sea of red and commerce that lapped upon the sidewalks and culminated at the main park near our house.
As we walked every 500 meters there was a huge television screen blaring patriotic music. Unfortunately for us they had the volume turned up loud enough for those to hear who were actually around for the founding of the Republic (1923). Sadly there are only 3 patriotic songs so we had to listen to them ad nauseum as we walked. At one point everyone stopped to recite what seemed like a pledge of allegiance: shown below.
We waded through the crowds until we finally emerged at the park. There was a bus decorated with lights and banners. On top there was a man chanting patriotic rhetoric into a microphone. The crowd became as thick as 3-day-old oatmeal as they chanted along in a kind of call-and-answer style. We had think pretty thin to push through.

Finally we emerged into the park where the fireworks show began. There in the middle of the park not 20 feet from passers by they launched the fireworks. All that separated us from the launch site was a flimsy plastic police line. This would not happen in the US.

We watched, as you can see below, for a few minutes but the sound grew deafening so we headed (finally) back home.


One more cultural experience in the bank. Hope you all are well.

The Death of the Joof?

"How can it be?" say I listlessly as I type to myself. Can this really be happening? Yes it is happening. So some of you may know that youtube.com is banned in Turkey. No one has a good explanation why but rest assured it does not work here. I have stood by using proxy sites to view youtube. I was annoyed yes but it didn't affect me directly.

Now here I sit typing to you through a proxy server. Yes that's right blogger.com joins the ranks of the censored many here in Turkey. "Justice" here comes swiftly with IP blocker written on it's lapel. Not 2 days after the decision are we blocked and censored. Here is the official notice: (Oh I can't upload it because I'm writing to you through a proxy...Damn)

Censorship of the internet is easy in Turkey because ONE COMPANY controls all access. Once the small Right Wing court located in the distant southwest corner of Turkey in a town called Diyarbakir, decides to ban something they can instantly with one phone call (or email assuming that it hasn't been banned as well).

Things are getting worse here. Once a secularized Republic, Turkey is quickly slipping into a dangerous oligarchy. As an American, I hold freedom of speech as one of man's most sacred rights. Apparently Turks don't share this sentiment. I don't need to mention (but I'm going to) the parallels with Iraq war propaganda in the US or the stifling of German media during WWII.

Now we get to the meat. This is religiously based. A GOVERNMENT ORDER IN THIS COUNTRY IS RELIGIOUSLY BASED. Now if you know anything about Turkey you know that it is unique in the world being a country that primarily practices Islam but does not allow it in Politics. Secular government. Religious public. That used to be the story. Not anymore.

"It is suspected that the reason for this has something to do with Adnan Oktar, by some considered the leading Muslim advocate for creationism, who has in the past managed to get Wordpress, Google Groups, as well as Richard Dawkins’ website."
-source http://advocacy.globalvoicesonline.org/2008/10/25/bloggercom-banned-in-turkey/

For more about Adnan Oktar
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harun_Yahya

So this is the new state of affairs here in Turkey. Kinda crazy. So for now I will try to write what I can and hold on. I no longer will be able to add photographs or videos though I may find a way around this. Until then. It's been quite fun blogging with you all. Please let me know how you are.
D

Kim and Ali's Wedding

After a rousing night of face paint fun, exfoliating creme I'm told. We started getting ready for the wedding.

It was a fun day for all except, which is often the case, the bride and groom. Kim and Ali were bustled this way and that to perform various rituals and tasks. First stop, the hair dresser. Everyone was getting there hair done...like it or not. There was choice of Ringlets or Ringlets. There girl next to Kim looked like she's having a wee of time...getting her RINGLETS. I'm no hair guru but I've been told there's more to hair than a hot iron and spring loaded curls. Here's Kim doing an impression of girls getting ringlets:
After some sweet glamor shots by Deb, at the local studio we all headed to the little bungalow by the beach to enjoy a traditional Turkish Wedding.

There we are getting ready in our room and the band strikes up an hour before the wedding is even supposed to start. There was sum suspicion as to whether or not they drunk and only got more so through the night. Here they are escorting the bride from the stockade...I mean "bungalow" to her wedding table. There Kim and Ali were forced for several hours to sit wave, dance, banter and pretty much do anything else you can think of BUT were not allow to eat or drink a thing.

Cruel an unusually punishment, I say. A wedding is a hard thing to handle in your native language, with alcohol. Without and in a foreign language, Kim you're a braver man than I. This from a guy who asks whether or not there will be alcohol at a wedding the moment I'm invited to one. "Oh no alcohol, pity. I've got to steam clean the lampshades that day. Oh yes, I've had it planed for months."
As the bride and groom sat and waited the DJ played some contemporary hits from his no-words, Karaoke collection. Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You," and Phil Collins, "Just Another Day in Paradise," were among the instrumental ballads we heard as we waited.

As the night drug on we did our best to sneak the poor couple a few drinks surreptitiously hidden in juice glasses, snifters, pie tins and a teddy bear. Then for our amusement Kim was made to dance, and surprised as they tried to light her dress on fire. Ahhh! Then the cake came out to a rousing Techno remix of the famous Mamas and the Papas Song "California Dreamin'". That part is not a joke, that happened.

After that the real fireworks began and I'm talking about that lounge singer lets-get-the-fireworks-started-between-this-happy-couple kinda fireworks. Real, honest to God explosions. It was quite a lot of fun. Then the lightning began and Rana was able to catch some on her camera. Check it out. The DJ had to put his equipment undercover so the music stopped for a bit. Did it stop the Turks from dancing, NO! They clapped in a circle and continued to dance well into the night.

Kim and Ali took a little rest from the action in the Wedding Loft that was provided near the bungalows. Rana and I had some drinks. Then they came back as many people were leaving and we caught some nice pics of them. It was really a great time. We talked with them late into the night and stumbled into bed unceremoniously. Thank god we had the next day to hang on the beach. Check out me in the background, the Buddha of rock tower building. The next morning we caught a flight from the brand spankin' new Sinop airport back to civilization. Whew! What a wonderful time. Congratulations Kim and Ali. We love you and really couldn't be any happier for you.

The Evil Bus Ride

The rest of our time in Bodrum was relatively uneventful. It was full of wistful looks into each other's eyes, sweet nothings and lazy afternoons. But that's none of your damn business so you'll hear nothing further about it from me!

Alas our time in Bodrum went far too quickly and we were once again forced to head north. However we were only in Istanbul for about 8 hours before we headed out again for our friends Kim and Ali's wedding. Our friends decided to have their wedding in a small town on the Black Sea coast that no offense sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball, Ayancik. (almost as far from Bodrum as you can get without leaving the country.)

This is the chronicle of that voyage. It is not for the faint of heart and it is long but hopefully you will be rewarded with a laugh at our expense.


It is almost too much to take in at once. Small Turkish towns, loud children, and and uncomfortable bus make for quite the night. There are two ways to get to this quaint little berg, well three if you count in the bed of truck load of goats but Rana has an acute Carpine allergy so we had to stick to either Bus or plane. Pain of Pains the flight schedule was not in our favor and thus the bus was our only way. Probably crop dusting season or something and they couldn't spare the planes.
The next task was to find the Bus company, "online," which to them meant that they we're hooked up to the sewer system. After a good long search we called the number which we got by bribing a blind hobo. We got there early and found that the word "office," is bandied about rather liberally in Turkey. It was a stool and an adding machine. We bought our tickets and found the bus.
One either side of our bus were brand new Mercedes coaches, newly painted and gleaming in the setting sun. And then there was our bus...When this puppy was rolled off of the assembly line Led Zeppelin was huge, bell bottoms were in and neon orange was an acceptable color to wear in public. It is unfortunate that the latter thought was the only trend incorporated into this baby.
It looked like it had been designed by a crazy Bulgarian scientist with nothing more than a protractor whilst he was locked in a broom cupboard. The color scheme screamed as Rana put it "Sick baby Cheetah." The curtains were and eye burning gold and the seat covers looked like a zoo exploded. You can see a little bit in the picture below.


Reluctantly we handed our bags to the attendant who stowed them underneath and walked around front of the "bus." Rana looked at me and said, "Was that there just a minute ago?" I looked to where she pointed.
The windshield was spider cracked along it's whole length as if God himself had smote the bus for being so hideous.

The fairly empty bus rumbled to a start a few moments later and we were off. At the first stop we picked up, how can I say this in a nice way and still deliver my point? I can't. They were country bumpkins. One women who sat near us kept hitting the recline button on her seat accidentally with her leg and she would flop wildly backwards calling the attendant saying her seat was broken. This happened three times before she mastered the use of said button.

Normally in Turkey you get some nice refreshment and a small snack on your travel. Not our bus. At each stop streets vendors got on selling everything from stockings to fresh bread (What a perk?) I guess they felt this made up for it.

Oh I forgot the earlier fun...It turns out that if your kid can sit on your lap in Turkey, you don't have to pay for an extra seat. At the next stop our favorite bumpkins got on with two toddlers in tow. Guess who they sat behind? You guessed it. I didn't know we signed up for "family" bus, yeah! Rana was quite convinced that everyone on the bus were all part of the same family. They really were forgetting the first rule of genetics, spread the genes apart. Why not at least try your cousin in a different village? I just sayin' here.

The two small children were just as uncomfortable as us and they let us know for the 12 hours I'd like to soon forget. They sat on the laps of their extremely responsible parents. Unfortunately in Turkey when you buy the seat on a bus you don't own the back side of it, these two however owned us by kicking the seat backs the whole way.

Then there was the water boy. Normally they give you water as I have said before but on our bus the young boy would periodically raid the cold water supply. I think he was a little gypsy and was selling water to people in the back of the bus after he stole it. I was thirsty but my mother told me never to do business with Gypsies!
Then oh then the TV came on. Yes just one for the whole bus. They played a Turkish Soap Opera for hours and hours.

Oh this is some terrible programing. I think it was filmed by a guy named Steve with a tripod a second have video cam and a dream. The dream is to address the vital Turkish issues., like circumcision, fighting in the street, and falling in love instantly. The main character fell in love like 10 times in one episode. This was denoted by light guitar music and a slow pan toward his face. He looks pensive. Every time the same. Good job Steve. Those night school film courses sure paid off!

We stopped around midnight for a quick bite to eat and the bathroom. After about 5 hours on a bus most of the women (wearing head to toe robes and headscarves) were begining to reek. Rana detected the faint aroma of hot dogs. Neither of us wanted to know why. We jumped from the bus as if it were on fire. We decided to check out the little roadside shop and hit trip-from-hell gold! Check out the below photos of fake celebrity perfumes! Spell in English much?

Also in Turkey it is customary to give you a little perfumed sanitizer in your hands as you get back on a bus. We were foolish enough to accept. Brown liquid was dumped unceremoniously into our hands. I am surprised it didn't eat through. The aroma can only be described as a vivid combination of old lady perfume and grandpa cologne mixed tasteful with yak urine. We couldn't get the smell of for hours. Really, it sucked.

At last my tale of woe climbs to a close but what story would be complete without the arsenic icing on the cyanide cake? Just as how could this trip be complete without a little vomit? In the final hour of the trek the road traversed some windy hills near the coast of the Black Sea. The people behind us having thriftily saved some cash decided they'd give back a little something to all us. The windy road was too much for their little girl who was bouncing uncomfortably on her mother's bony knee.

It is impossible to describe the sinking sickening feeling that dashed our hearts as a tiny gurgling throw-up noise emanated from the seat behind us but I will try. You know that sensation you get when a drop of rain hits your shoulder and you slowly come to realize that there isn't a cloud in the sky? There is nothing, simply nothing, in this world that can get that droplet off of your shoulder fast enough to comfort you. This is the same frantic dance Rana and I did to check our shoulders and hair for baby puke. 5 minutes later the father, from what I thought was an unreasonably high height considering the contents of the bag, dropped a sac of toddler upchuck into the garbage right next to me. The smell was indescribable.
Ick!
Finally the ride was over and we saw the smiling tired faces of our beautiful bride and her groom. I have never in my life been happier to see two people. They drove us to a lovely sea side bungalow where we slept most of the day away falling asleep to lightly crashing waves.

Next instalment: The Wedding.

Izmir and the Wedding: told with other peoples' pictures

Yesterday Rana and I headed out on an adventure to the south of turkey. Our aim was to make for Bodrum, city of topless old European tourists. What fun? First we had to get there. Before Bodrum we wanted to go to a friend's wedding in Izmir. Rana's cousin Naz and her boyfriend Augusto joined us. We boarded a bus at 11:30 last night and headed over the Sea of Marmara in a ferry. Sorry I have to warn you ahead of time I took not real pictures today so these are filler.

To occupy our time we played telephone in 3 languages between 4 of us.


The simple phrase "I want cheese," came out something like " la petite mort." and so on. We ate muffins we had made and tried to sleep but generally that was impossible. At about 4 in the morning the bus stopped at a restaurant and we got a cup of soup. We sort of lost track of the time and the bus driver found us 45 minutes later saying "the bus is going to leave without you!" At least that is what I think he said but it could have been. "You know that belt really doesn't go with those shoes." The world will never know.


Then the bus bumbled and bumped for 4 more hours until we made it to Izmir. Waiting were Naz's parents with a fantastic breakfast for us! We ate our fill and I fell into one of those knock out slumbers after you're full. You know the kind that hit you like lead frying pan. A awoke an hour or two later and we went for a nice whirl wind tour of Izmir before the wedding. It was cool and we bought candy aphrodisiacs from a man wearing a hat advertising his product.

Turkish weddings are fascinating. I spent about 45 minutes showering, ironing my shirt and pants, and doing my best not to smell like I'd been on a bus for most of the morning. When we got to the public hall and the wedding began about ten minutes later. It was over and people were congratulating the bridal party about 15 minutes later. I'm not exaggerating.

I thought, "I ironed for this?" Shouldn't there be fireworks or and old lady playing a synth organ or something? Nope. Done and Done. My theory is that in a climate so hot you don't need electricity to make toast, one should do one's best to move things along that keep lots of people in heavy wool clothing in a confined space. I am happy to say there was no faintings though some people did come just in time to shake hands and then were gone.

Tomorrow we are headed for Çeşme, a lovely coastal beach town near Izmir and the next day Bodrum. I am not sure about the internet connection there so this may be my last post for a while. Take care.

The is the Errant Particle saying: "Try to break off from the Nucleus for a while."

Dad arrives in the City of Old Cool stuff

Ok so it's not a title that will win me a Pulitzer but it's true. Mom and I had been waiting for my father to arrive for a few days so we had been tactfully avoiding going to the "must see" sites in the city. Once he arrived it was on like Donkey Kong.


Like many tourists we took advantage of the proximity of most of these major attractions. The blue mosque, the Hagia Sofia and Topkapi Palace are all within reasonable walking distance of each other. It really was kind of the ancient Sultans to construct their building in such a way that they now serve my convenience.

Inside Topkapi palace I discovered (discovered meaning I followed the arrows and signs) the biggest most ornate robe I ever seen. I'm too young to have seen Libirachi in concert. Anyway I found out that it belonged to the last "warrior sultan" named Murad the 4th." Check out the wiki on bad boy Murad_IV. He was a giant man who carried a 130 pound hammer that he swung like a baby rattle using only one hand. Kinda has the princess Amadala look to the head dress.

We then we checked out the Blue Mosque which is not called that in Turkish. It's called SultanAhmet named for the sultan (Ahmet I) who built it. Go figure? I always wonder how they know to call him Ahmet the 1st. I mean do they know there are going to more? There's a lot of pressure for Ahmet to have sons then, right? I'm sure he figured it out with a Harem of 30 women. Here's mom outside the Harem (translated conveniently into English for us)

I stayed outside because I'd seen it before but mom and dad traipsed right on through. (It took me a really long time to spell traipsed.) I wish the french would stop giving English words, it is far too confusing.

By the time we'd seen these wonders we were tired and a bit hungry. We walked up to a local simit seller and bought a doughy sesame covered ring of loveliness. Here he is walking away after we patronized his cart. Ok, well that's all for today. Görüşürüz (see you later) as the Turkish say...I know what you are thinking and yes, it is a hard language.