Guess What I Found?!

This will only be exciting if you spent the summer of 1998 in St. Petersburg, Russia living off an odd kind of cakey cookie. Yes, that's right, I just got back from the grocery store in Barlad where I found--ta da--priyaniki!

Also, babies are nice.

Not to Worry the Parents, but . . .

I've had a rocky start in Romania. I caught a cab at 5:00 this morning to Taksim Square, rode a shuttle to the airport, made it through the very long lines at Ataturk Airport, and arrived safely in Bucharest. And then there was the disaster. I went to the cafe where I was supposed to meet Mihaela, the local team leader for my volunteer group. Mihaela wasn't there, but a woman who is also volunteering was. We didn't know what time the rest of the team was arriving, so we hung out in the cafe for an hour or so until a young Romanian woman with a badge approached us and told us that our bus had already left but that it was coming back to get us, so we had to hurry. I ASKED her if she was with our organization and she said she was and that is why I got on the bus full of international GPs. Soon after we started rolling out of the city, though, I was gripped with a very strong feeling that this was all wrong and that I was still supposed to be in a cafe in the airport. SO, I made my way to the front of the bus and talked to the woman in charge and, sure enough, I was on a bus going to a medical conference in Brasov.

The woman on the bus called our organization for us and explained to Mihaela's husband where we were (about 40 minutes away), while I chatted with some international doctors who found the whole situation hiLARious, and the solution reached was that my volunteer companion and I would hop off the bus right there and Mihaela's husband would come to get us as soon as he could. Which was two hours later. I spent some super quality time sitting on the side of the road watching horse-drawn carts roll by and making friends with a little Romanian boy. Not the worst day I've had on this trip.

I'm now safely in our village. I'm sharing a room with a nice girl from Wisconsin. We have satellite TV and a giant bathtub and a deck and free Internet access. Monday we start work at the hospital.

All's well that ends well.

These Pictures are Lame

I can never see the pictures I upload until they're actually on the blog. I don't like these ones, but it just took me 20 minutes to upload them (delaying Turkish Bath time), so they're staying.

This is a courtyard in Topkapi Palace. The weird spots to the right are water droplets spraying from the fountain in the center.

This is the interior of the Hagia Sophia. It's so huge and stunning. No picture could really do it justice.

This is an area called Pammukale. It's a series of pools created from calcium deposits. Pammukale means cotton castle.


From a Hittite Frieze

Mosaic from Chora Church. This Byzantine church has amazing (I need a thesaurus--everything is amazing, beautiful, stunning) mosaics. When the Ottomans came into power, they transformed the church into a mosque. They simply whitewashed over the mosaics and frescoes, preserving them until the mosque became a museum.

Notes from Turkey

1. I appeared on Turkish television two nights ago. I was interviewed about Ramadan and how I thought it affects the city. I was wearing very unfortunate clothes and sporting very unfortunate hair (not unusual).

My European TV Debut

2. I saw John the Baptist's arm yesterday. It's encased ın hand-shaped metal ın Topkapı Palace and it looks straight up evil.


3. When we were ın Italy, the Coordınatrıx lamented that the Italıan men were not attentive to us. She should have come to Turkey. I've become an excellent lıar ın Turkey. It's absolutely essentıal to extract myself from all the conversatıons ın whıch the men here try to ınvıte themselves back to our hotel room or try to persuade us to come for a drınk wıth them. We almost always get accosted when we're out and the conversation almost always ends with a Turkish man saying, "Where are you going now? I will come with you." This exchange from the Spice Market yesterday is typical (the whole transaction took place as I was walking; I never stopped):

Merchant: I have pashmina inside my shop for your mother-in-law.

Me: No, thank you.

Merchant: Why no? You do not like your mother-in-law or you do not have a mother-in-law?

Me: I do not like my mother-in-law.

Merchant: Wait! I have poison.

4. A speedo swimsuit is never a good idea for a man. Especially for men who come from countries where close-talking is okay. (I'm talking to you, Australia!)

5. How to Cross the Street in Turkey:

1. Stand on the curb and look anxious.
2. Watch taxis drive too fast and consider your own mortality.
3. Wait for locals to reach the curb.
4. Attach yourself to the locals and zip across the street in their wake, using them as human shields.

6. The Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia

• Seeing the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia lit up at night is good.
• Seeing the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia lit up at night during Ramadan with crowds of Muslims picnicking on the lawn is better.
• Seeing the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia lit up at night during Ramadan with crowds of Muslims picknicking on the lawn while prayers are sung out from the mosque and you munch on Turkish Delight is the best.

Crowds around Hagia Sophia

Blue Mosque with Lights Strung for Ramadan

7. I have lots and lots of pictures of gorgeous mosaics and crazy Medusa heads and beautiful sites. One day I will let you look at them.

Cappadocıa

We're ın Cappadocıa (Cap-uh-doke-ee-uh) and ıt's fantastıc! The rock formatıons were used by Chrıstıans as hıdıng places durıng Roman persecutıons and later they were used as monasterıes.

Geometrıc patterns on a cave wall from the 9th century (ıconoclast perıod).

Outsıde of a monastery complex.

Frescoes from a later tıme perıod. On the left you can see some of the older ıconoclast art showıng through.


More rock formatıons.

The Turkısh Language

Words I Can Pronounce ın Turkısh:

yes
no
okay
water
flour
good mornıng


Words I Fınd It Absolutely Impossıble to Pronounce ın Turkısh:

thank you


See how thıs ıs a problem? I need to say thank you far more often than I need to say flour.

No Tıme for Postıng!

Lıbrary ın Ephesus

Spıces ın Istanbul

Sunset over the Aegean Sea (our hotel ıs approxımately 6 feet from the water) ın Kuşadası

Nıce quote from Ataturk at Anzac Cove (Gallıpolı)

Whırlıng Dervıshes

All photos courtesy of AJ, because my camera ıs uncooperatıve.