Going Out The Door...: Turkey: Antalya

When I was 17 I went with my mom, who worked at a salon, so I could get my hair done. I finished long before she did, so I decided to walk down the street to get a snack. Her salon was near a busy street corner which had to be crossed in order to get to the food stores. I remember being surprised by the noise of the traffic; cars whizzed by, and horns honked. I approached the main intersection with caution and stood there; I stood for a long time. The light flashed and changed but I waited on the street corner like I was waiting for a bus. The waiting made me anxious, and I felt like every driver who went past was staring. Finally a man came to cross and I scurried behind him when he received the secret signal. At seventeen, I knew how to drive, but I didn't know how to cross a busy city street. I think that experience is indicative of my sheltered country upbringing.

This trip has brought me back to that street corner many times. With a new language to learn almost every other week, it's been a shock to my system. Currency, bus schedules, street names and sign posts are an effort to process, and I often feel like I stick out more than the other travelers, who seem like naturals. However, there is almost always a new lesson to be learned by sitting back with patience and giving yourself time. I expected traveling to cure me of my shyness and my awkward conversation skills, but I am still the same and have learned that I will just have to continue to work at it. When I finally get the courage to "cross the street" there is always something interesting and new waiting.

I guess it's no small miracle (providential, you might say) that Steve is my exact opposite. Although he too was born in the stix, he has the gift of conversation and confidence that I lack. He has a humble spirit and he is comfortable in his own skin; people are drawn to him. When it comes to finding our way, he has the true brain of an engineer: organized, prepared and logical. He is a master navigator; he has always led us to to our destination and we haven't gotten lost once! I am always amazed when our local bus pulls out and Steve knows how many landmarks we need to hit until its time to get out. I'm sure he'd say it's google maps that deserves the credit, but as my mom has always said, I could get lost in a paper bag-- no map is a match for my bad sense of direction, and so I give him five gold stars.

Turkey is a huge place, so all that talking and map reading and planning finally landed us on an overnight bus to Antalya; a place we visited and left before I really had anything to report. Our ten hour bus ride from Cappadocia made me sick again, the lack of sleep and the air conditioning was a bad combination for a sinus infection, so when we finally arrived at the hotel all I could do was sleep. We did manage to explore a little, and visited the old town portion of the city, a preserved roman-ottoman quarter, which was beautiful.

Antalya is a sea side city in the western Mediterranean. It is a blend of ancient and modern; small cobble stone streets wound around the dark blue Mediterranean Sea, and we explored the old Roman marina and some ancient stones that were the last remains of mosques and churches.

The day we chose to explore was a balmy 35 degrees, so after walking in the heat we hopped on a bus to Lara beach, a beautiful golden strip along azure waters. It was packed to the gills with locals and tourists, so we found a patch of unoccupied space, dumped our bags and jumped into the inviting waters; water so clear and still it looked more like a lake than a sea. As the sea met my skin, I gasped. I sucked in the warm air as if it would heat me up again from the inside. The water was freezing! I had expected the sea here to be like the bath-water green of the Indian Ocean, but it was not. Neither of us lasted long in the water--just long enough to get wet so we could stand the heat of the sun and the noise and cloud of cigarette smoke from the people around us.

After an hour of juggling the hot and cold extremes (and annoying little sand flies), we decided to head in to the small park beside the beach to sit under a tree and enjoy some shade. We had just settled on our beach mat for some relaxation when we heard a yell.

"Hey! Come come!"

We looked over. A group of Turkish guys were sitting at a picnic table. At one end of the table was a brick stove, fired up and smelling delicious. Steve waved, and they invited us to come and eat.

"Too much food" one of them said.

We sat at their table and attempted conversation, which was more like charades. They spoke little English, but the conversation stayed lively. We slowly worked out that they were a group of young police officers from Istanbul, enjoying a weekend off. They proudly flashed their police identification cards around and motioned to the spread of food on the table. Roasted chicken, fresh bread, peppers, tomatoes and onion. And a large bottle of vodka. They were all set!

Steve filled up on chicken, and I picked at some until one of the men across from me insisted I eat a sandwich. I tried politely to decline, which did nothing against their inebriated determination. Collectively, they piled food high on a hunk of bread. By the time they were done, the sandwich was as large as my head. I wondered how on earth I was going to eat that thing. Seeing my hesitation, the guy across from me held the sandwich up to my mouth. There was no getting out of it; I closed my eyes and took a bite. They all cheered.

As they talked with Steve, I was tackling the sandwich, absorbed with eating. It took me a few moments to realize that every time I looked up, the guy across from me winked (It took a few times for me to clue in, I've been out of the game for a while now and at first I thought he just had something in his eye). Antalya was the city I realized my powers: I'm a Turkish man magnet. Maybe it's the hair, or the fact that I smile too much at people, but that day at the picnic table it was clear: This guy dug me. Steve and I exchanged glances and we decided it was time to say thanks and leave before their drink gave them any more ideas. We were, after all, foreigners with a group of Turkish police. We gracefully told them it was time for us to get back.

"Picture picture!!" They cried.

Cell phones came out, and Steve pulled out the camera. Other than my admirer, we had had an interesting time and wanted to capture our new friends. My new friend was first in line to get a picture with me. How nice. You can see from our group photo he was feeling pretty serious about the whole thing. I'm quite sure he was trying to cop a feel, but rather than a breast he got armpit. As awkward as it was, Steve and I busted a gut laughing when the picture proved my experience. The picture is quite hilarious!

With full stomachs it was back to hotel to get organized. The next day we were leaving for Fethiye and we needed our energy. Traveling is tough business! Despite being sick, we managed to see the city and laugh a lot. I am grateful for such a fun traveling partner; someone who balances me out and encourages me to cross out of my comfort zone, but doesn't push me to be someone I'm not. It makes for wonderful memories.

More to be made! Next stop: Fethiye!

Preserved Roman Gate: