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| Mt. Ararat from Doğubeyazıt |
I spent my time there hanging out in the
city, wandering the palace of Işak Paşa and befriending some chatty military
personnel on the street. While I was having lunch, I met an officer who was
stationed in the town and he sneaked me on to the base to have tea and baklava
with him and his fellow officers late one night. It was not long after the
third or fourth tea where they willing to tell me how much of a living hell
their year-long conscription into the Turkish military truly was. We talked
late into the night until their shift was about to change and then, fearing
punishment from anyone who had seen me on base without proper permission, they
showed me the door and bid me safe travels for the rest of my trip. This was
just another occasion in an ever growing list of examples of mind-bogglingly
kind hospitality and altruism that I had no way of reciprocating-- a specific
kind of uniqueness never to be duplicated.
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| Işak Paşa Palace |
So right about the time that a Kurdish
family dropped me off in Van, Ramadan was starting in Turkey and in other
Muslim countries around the world. Ramadan is a Muslim holiday in which all
Muslims abstain from food, drink, and any other *ahem* physical need during the
time between sunrise and sunset. All of this is done to practice restraint in
an attempt to purify and cleanse their mind, body, and soul and refocus
themselves on their commitment to god. During Ramadan, Turks get up before sunrise to break their fast and
then proceed to work the entire day until they are allowed to break fast after
sunset.
This was a truly interesting time to be
traveling the east of Turkey. I found that the Turks here were a lot more
pious than in the Black Sea, and definitely more pious than in Istanbul. Although
I was, and am not, a pious person myself, I derived a great deal of pleasure
out of walking around the city and listening to the melodic, high energy clamor
of people in the streets at the end of a hot day as they broke their fast amongst
family and friends. Everyone was in good moods and high spirits-- excited about
their month of purification.
Van, one of the bigger cities of the east,
is butted right up against a massive lake. As I traveled out to the lake, I saw
the massive silhouette of a fortress sidled up against the lake; I approached
and saw that others were climbing up on it and I did the same. I met a couple
of beautiful Kurdish girls who were in town visiting some family and when I
told them I was from California, they could not fathom a guess as to why I
would come all the way out to Van if I lived in California; a question to which
an answer was never understood, no matter how many times I tried to express it
in my broken Turkish.
I spent my time in Van traipsing through
old, ruinous buildings, sampling the delicious and special herb cheeses from
Van's famous breakfast spreads, and even spent an afternoon on a Kurdish boat
party that took us to and from the island of Akdamar. A very fun experience indeed.
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| View of Van Lake from the fortress |
Van marked about week 3 in my 5 week trip and it also marked the turn I would make back towards the West coast and to Cesme. Needing to budget my money as well as time a little better, I jumped on an overnight bus to Diyarbakkir and then on to the city of Mardin. I arrived in Mardin just a couple of days into Ramadan expecting to witness the same charming demeanor of the people in Van. Well, I guess it doesn't take too many days of this holy time for people to traverse from the pleasantries and mild-temperaments of rational people to everyone pretty much being a massive dickhead to any and everyone around them.
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| Atop the fortress |
As you could imagine, due to the scorching
heat, dehydration and Turks' debilitating nicotine addictions, tempers were
running high during the day. Tensions were short, nicotine-deprived bodies were
shaky, hunger was rife, and I had learned the hard way that if I could somehow
go about my day with as few interactions with others as possible, I would have
a better chance of not being dismembered by hungry and foul-mooded Turks.
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| Van city center |
I had been told in Van that there would be
at least a restaurant open during the day to accommodate children, elderly
people, and (and apparently) menstruating women who could not endure the
hardships of the fast. Me, not needing to adhere to this, or any other of the 4
pillars of Islam, would not be fasting during the day. But finding this elusive restaurant seemed to
be more difficult than I thought. Dehydrated, tired, and incredibly hungry, I
was reduced to (very creepily) waiting outside of a school, hoping that when
school ended, I could follow the students and one of them would lead me to the one
restaurant open in the entire city. Desperate times called for desperate and
creepy measures. School was let out and the children were off into town. I
thought that I was walking after them with a competent and masterful surreptitiousness
but it turned out I was some creepy foreigner that they all noticed right away.
Apparently I didn't look very menacing because they proceeded on unperturbed
and for once, a brilliant plan of mine worked! I walked into the culinary
heaven of some greasy, dirty ev yemekleri (handmade food served cafeteria style) surrounded by
children, elderly people, and women. Whether they were menstruating or not
remained to unclear and
unverifiable.
Once I got something to eat, I walked the
gorgeous city with a new perspective. Admiring the old and narrow streets with
donkey carts traveling up and down them, sitting at a restaurant drinking a tea
(after sunset of course), looking over
into the massively large and flat area that was Syria, and observing other
people around me breaking their fast which whisked the charm and positive
attitudes back to them; eating bread, smoking cigarettes and enjoying other
people's company with satiated stomachs.
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| Mardin |
Well, now my trip was really coming to an
end. I was running out of time and I still had Nemrut Mountain and Cappadocia
to see before I made my way to Cesme. I took another night bus to a village on
the slopes of the mountain and spent the day wandering around the hillsides and
stopping off at little eateries selling their homegrown food. Nemrut Mountain
is the site of a massive sanctuary and tomb for a king called Antiochus I Theos
of Commagene. The Commagene kingdom was a small kingdom in present day Armenia
and central Turkey and Antiochus, who reigned until 38 BC, was the most famous
of this kingdom. The thing to do in Nemrut is get up before dawn, drive to the
top of the mountain, hike out to the peak, watch the sun rise over the beautifully vast area of Central Turkey, and
watch the sun glisten off the giant 30 foot sunrise facing statues of
Antiochus, eagles, lions, and various Greek, Armenian, and Iranian gods of the
time. Despite the over-abundance of people there, it was a morning of quiet,
stillness, and peace that I remember fondly.
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| Crossing the Euphrates |
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| Sunrise facing statues |
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| Nemrut Dağı at sunrise |
I had made my way several hundred kilometers and was now closing in on one of the tourism highlights in Turkey: Cappadocia. The ancient area of Cappadocia is famous as a modern day tourist destination for it's gorgeous aerial views from hot air balloons, it's wonderful trekking trails through valleys and their dry river bed valley floors as well as its geological features; namely the fairy chimneys.
Fairy chimneys are tall, thin spires of
sedimentary or volcanic rocks that have been shaped by the elements over
thousands of years. The chimneys are made when softer rocks are topped with
harder rocks prohibiting erosion to the lower areas. These tall and skinny rock
formations often resemble totem poles or pinnacles and they are everywhere in
Cappadocia. Also famous about Cappadocia is that because the rocks are so soft,
early Christians in the area were able to carve several underground cities into
the rocks and fairy chimneys and to this day, there still exists a vast,
underground system of churches, houses, and various defense systems that
protected them against invaders and religious persecution.
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| Hiking through Cappidocia |
Cappidocia was also a welcome respite from
the rigors and conservativeness of the east. As there were more tourists here,
I was able to find food and drink at all hours of the day despite it still
being Ramadan. I arrived from Nemrut late in the night and completely exhausted
from my day of hitch-hiking. I went to bed early, wanting to make the most of
the short, 2 day stint I would be confined to before I made my way to Cesme. I
was up early, bought provisions and food for a day of walking, a map, inquiries
into the general direction I should be walking in, and I was off. My haste
proved to be something I would be kicking myself over later in the day in the
sweltering sun of an incredibly hot afternoon.
The morning was cool, the sun was barely up,
and I was charged with the enthusiasm of 5 weeks culminating in being in this
place. Every traveler I had met coming from this direction told me how much I
was going to love it here, especially if I like hiking, so I was excited and I
turned out to be anything but disappointed. I explored every valley I could get
to. Every fairy chimney was a new discovery, begging to be climbed in and explored.
I would sit inside this massive rock and wonder at the history of its former
inhabitants; their lives, trials, tribulations, and the things that brought
happiness to their lives. I explored underground cities and churches with
intricate well water systems that still worked to this day. I went from valley
peak to valley floor, everything being slightly different from the previous but
invariably slightly different. A different fascination in everything I looked
at. This place was absolutely magical. But, as it happened, the euphoria of the
place (and possibly the heat) voided me of my better judgment later in the
day.
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| Cave Church |
I was walking on this ridge line, making my
way down the soft, sandy, white dunes of the area. I didn't know where I was
exactly, but I knew I was making my way back in the general direction of town.
As I walked along this ridge, I noticed a set of fairy chimneys on the valley
floor to my right. This would be a bit of a detour but I thought it would be
worth checking out because it seemed so remote down at the bottom. I assessed
the area from the ridge line and saw a trail that seemed to snake down the side
of this peak to the valley below. I started walking down this trail and then realized that this trail was less a trail, and
more an eroded, rain run off chute. It was doing a lot less snaking, and a lot
more going straight downhill. No matter, it wasn't very steep and it was easily
negotiable. The trail continued down and down, offering me absolutely no shade
from the directly overhead sun beating down on me. The rain run off trail was
getting incrementally more annoying too; I was having to climb over and under
rocks, down sandy embankments and worst of all were these more than occasional
2 foot drop offs made higher from dried up pond beds where water, cascading
over the side, would puddle up.
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| Rock Castle |
The further and further I made my way down
the valley wall, the deeper and deeper this rain trench became and the higher
and higher the drop offs were becoming. Nearing the valley floor, I approached
this one drop off that had something about it that made me exude caution. It
seemed to be a bit taller than normal. I inched toward the slanted drop off,
deciding if it was worth going down when all of a sudden, I slipped on my ass, smashed
my hip and slid off the side. Before I had a chance to register anything else,
I was standing safely below the drop off on my own two feet. My heart was
pumping and I was a little startled but I landed softly on the sand. I was
almost there, I had to be. I had been walking for about 30 minutes now. I was
hot, sweaty, and tired. I came around another corner to another drop off that,
like the previous one, made me be a little bit more cautious. This time being
very careful not to slip on the slant right before the drop off, I peered over
the edge to see how best to get down.
I swore aloud.
I guess it was interesting for me to think
back on my feelings at this point. I remember being incredibly angry that I was
going to have to turn around and go back up because this drop off was well over
ten feet onto jagged rocks but I guess I should have been thinking about what
would have happened to me if I slipped and fell over this ledge instead of the
ledge before. I suppose anger and fatigue were clouding out everything else at
that moment.
In fact, yes, yes it was, because it was
when I got back to the ledge that I had slipped off that I realized I had a bit
of a problem. This ledge was taller than I thought it was when I fell off of
it. I had thought it was just a couple of feet but now that my adrenaline and
pulse were not racing, I could clearly see that this ledge was about an arm’s
length over my head.
I approached the problem calmly at first,
seeing if I could grab onto anything on the sides to hoist myself up. Nope. The
rock was so soft that whenever I tried to grab something, it fell off in my
hand. I tried to run up to it and leap to a stronger looking rock above the
drop off but the sand was so loose, I couldn't jump high enough to reach
anything. I had a problem. 25 minutes passed and I was nothing except a lot
more tired. I took out my phone to see if I had a signal but, of course, I
didn't, - the trench had become too deep to get a signal here.
"Ok, think!" I told myself.
To stave off a major freak out and to ration
any remaining energy, I stopped, tried to find a place with a marginal level of
shade and take stock of the food and water I had.
"Lots of water, that's good," I
was talking aloud now, trying to keep myself calm. "If I need to, I could
spend probably 3 days here. No problem."
3 days and then what? What would having a
problem mean? I saw no one all day walking around. Not one person. Did I see
any foot prints on the rain run off trail? I couldn't remember.
This was bad.
"Ok, conserve energy. Find shade."
I was sitting with my back to the rock wall,
a sheer cliff that was facing the wrong direction in relation to the sun -
offering no shade. I needed to get out of the sun, it had to have been well
over a hundred degrees out here and the cooler I was, the less water I would
drink.
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| I snuck inside the rock castle |
I walked back down the trench towards the death drop, trying to find a place to
sit, escape the sun, and regroup for a second. The best thing I could find was
the low lying rock I could lay next to that provided me a little bit of respite
from the sun.I was hoping that it would lead to a respite from the paralyzing
fear of baking to a crisp and dying of dehydration in the Turkish desert before
anyone found me.
I was lying down in the dirt, trying to
extract any coolness the shady patch I was occupying could emit, when I felt
something dig into my back.
"Ouch," I said out loud, annoyed
that the only place that was tolerably cool was intolerably uncomfortable in
this place that I could very well die in. I rolled over to see what was poking
me in the back. I dug down a little and exposed the root of an old tree. This
gave me an idea, but I would need to wait until after the sun had gone down a
bit when I had more energy.
I lied there until the sun had gone over my
section of trench and then got up on my hands and knees and started digging in
the dirt. At first, I was digging for roots but then really, I realized I was
digging for anything and everything that might help. I collected tiny little
branches, stones, tough clumps of dirt, and the occasional tree root that I
could break off. I went back to the base of ledge and started breaking off
pieces from the drop off to use as well. Once I thought I had enough, I started
to pile it up at the base of the ledge with intermittent layers of sand and
dirt until, when i stood on it, I was about eye level with the edge of the drop
off. I threw my backpack up, then slowly pulled it back down, threw it up, then
slowly pulled in back down until, when I tugged on it, it wouldn't move. I
tested it with incrementally more and more weight until I was satisfied it would
be load bearing. I held my breath, distributed my weight between my makeshift
pedestal and my backpack, hoisted myself
up, clambered on my bloody knees and lay face down on the slope, clutching a
sturdy rock with the lower part of my legs and feet hanging over the edge. I
picked myself up, dusted myself off, looked back at the place I had been
trapped for 4 hours and then unceremoniously turned and headed back up the
hill.
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| I almost died here! |
"Not today," I said as I made my
way back to my hostel, the shower, and a cold beer.
I spent the next day a lot less
adventurously discovering the area before whisking myself away to the beaches
of Cesme. I met up with Lisya and her friends and enjoyed the last of my time
and money sitting on beaches, eating and drinking hedonistically and telling
them of the trip I had just took. It almost seemed surreal to be back, speaking
my language and not living out of a backpack from day to day.
At that point in my life, this had been the
best trip I had ever taken. I loved every bit of it- the indescribably sublime
as well as the incredibly frustrating. To anyone who later asked about the
trip, it proved impossible to explain exactly how I felt at any step along the
way. The feeling I felt when witnessing Turkish hospitality, the overwhelming
awe-struckness of standing in front of ruined cities that had once been
responsible for the formation of the modern world, or the grandeur and beauty I
saw in something right before I took a picture of it. The map falls short in
every banal attempt it makes to embody the territory. This uniqueness was for
me and me alone no matter how many pictures I took or how well I described it.
Anything more would just be a muddled and distorted song in the wind.
Books Read:
Gai-Jin - James Clavell
Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
Mehmet, My Hawk - Yaşar Kemal
The Power of the Dog - Don Winslow
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| Carvings in the rock churches |
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| Doesn't really show how hot it was |
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