Been there, done that

Someone asked me recently why I didn't bother to write more about our trip to Turkey. Truth is, there wasn't much to say. While the surrounding areas of Ankara had much to offer in the way of ancient cities and beautiful mosques we were, unfortunately, relegated to Ankara for the extent of our stay simply because 1) Hamid wasn't feeling well; likely with a nervous affliction that understandably invades the body of anyone waiting on line for a visa to the States for months on end and 2) Once we knew we had the visa, we had to wait around in our hotel room for it's delivery.
By the time all was said and done there just wasn't any time to go anywhere - so we experienced downtown Ankara to the fullest and I will say of all the cities I've ever been in in the world it was the most boring, but was still a worthy adventure.

The people of Ankara were some of the sweetest I've ever met; shopkeepers and fruit-stall owners alike plumped us up on our daily visits to the huge local market with tidbits of fresh cherries, strawberries, Turkish delight, and nuts. The taxi drivers were not only honest, when they gave us our change it was always tipped in our favor, rather than that of their meter - the only city in the world I've ever witnessed such a phenomenon.

And there *were* some interesting moments, aside from our now historic visit to the U.S. Embassy. Like the first afternoon we were there, after settling into our hotel room, we'd gone out into the street for a walk. As we were passing one local restaurant a quick movement from across the busy road caught my eye and I turned to see three men holding a large goat down on the sidewalk. The goat struggled and kicked but to no avail, within seconds a sharp knife slid across his throat and blood was whooshing out of his exposed flesh into the gutter as his body convulsed in death throes. Another goat, already dead, lay beside him, still leaking the red stuff onto the street.
I was the only person who seemed shocked by this; everyone else just walked by as if it was the most normal thing in the world to see two animals bleed to death in a busy downtown neighborhood.

Or the time we stepped into the toy store to find that blonde babydolls dressed up like militia, complete with little plastic AK 47 and tiny Turkish flag, are as popular a holiday gift as stuffed teddy bears and leggy Barbie dolls.

There was the endless hunt for vegetarian food; a non-existent concept in Ankara where just about everything comes chock full of either meat or eggs fried, grilled, steamed, or otherwise. Hamid, always a happy carnivore, was content with kebabs of lamb or chicken. We would inquire as to the vegetable dishes at each new establishment and I was fooled the first few times, choosing steamed green beans or tomato and barley soup. "Yes, yes, vegetable..." we were assured with each order only to be presented with a huge steaming pile of meatstuff soaked in an otherwise lovely vegetable medley. I ate toasted pita bread with eggs and cheese for ten days and felt as if I could baste an entire turkey with a touch for all the oil my meals had contained. The word 'tofu' is apprently not part of the local venacular.

On another afternoon we found ourselves caught up in the middle of a large funeral procession, on foot, for a young boy who'd been killed at the border of Turkey in the war with Kurdish rebels in Iraq. His body, elevated by pairs of hairy, stout male arms, was laid out in an open coffin, covered with flowers and surrounded by framed photographs of important moments in his life. His procession was followed by an endless river of loudly wailing women and girls, all clutching desperately at their scarves and breasts with such an intense sadness it brought tears to my own eyes just to see them in such a state.

We realized soon after that the numerous framed pictures of soldiers in nearly every shop window and bus stop were victims of this same war. Some of the faces were of adult men, while others looked to be no more than twelve or thirteen years old. The word 'martyr' was embossed in large, red, Turkish script on every image.

And every morning, the view from our fourth floor balcony onto a nearby highschool provided a glimpse of what it's like to be a teenager in Ankara. Girls arriving early, stepping from their parents' cars only to dart behind a squat nearby building to remove scarves and uniform jackets, then apply makeup and smoke cigarettes. Boys offering their smokes to any female form within hearing range and standing in the attitude of cool with shirts freshly untucked and baseball caps added to the ensemble for good measure.

Ankara was interesting in other ways too; as a Muslim nation not ruled by Islamic law the standards of socially acceptable attire ranged from punk rock funk to the standard hijab and manteau and everything in between. What was most interesting to me though, was the way the girls (who were obviously choosing to dress in whatever way they wanted) combined a sense of their Islamic devotion with a penchant for modern fashion. There were short plaid skirts with white knee socks all topped off with a very proper, but colorful, scarf. Or capri jeans with a deliberately unbuttoned manteau and stilettos, hair flowing wildly. It was like a mashup of Iran and Milan - fascinating to say the least. I spent hours with Hamid having tea outdoors just watching these creatures who live suspended between what was and what will be and making the best of it. Their own sense of style and self peeking through, with or without a scarf.
After my time in Iran I always wondered why anyone would choose to wear a headcovering when it wasn't mandated by law, but after getting a glimpse of what a little bit of freedom brings to the lives of girls and women, even within an Islamic country, I could again see a scarf, casually wrapped over the head and back across the shoulders, as something stylish, almost glamorous.

Truthfully though, as we flew out of Turkey via Istanbul we peered out the window wistfully at the short white and blue houses, looking something like Greece, and were oh so jealous we hadn't had an opportunity to discover more of Turkey.

Ankara is now one of those been-there-done-that destinations, but Turkey as a whole is most definitely still on the list.