love to eat turkey cause it’s good, love to eat turkey like a good boy should…
May 27th, 2009 | Written by hurricanic
Before I head to bed at the obnoxious hour of 9 p.m. here in Turkey, I thought I’d tell you all about my first full day here.
We started with a delicious Turkish breakfast, including fresh cucumbers and olives. Yum. (For those of you who don’t know, I hate them both. In order to be a good sport, however, I did indulge in each.) We also dined on fresh honey and cream with simit (pronounced “smeet”). I know, I know…I’m way too culturally advanced for the rest of you, so I’ll dumb it down and we’ll just call it a sesame bagel. After getting ourselves ready, we headed to the university where Curtis and Annie teach. Curtis proctored a test, which proves to be rather complicated in a culture where cheating is the norm. Annie and I were meanwhile eaten alive by flies while we chatted in a forest. Well, they call it the forest…it’s a park with trees.
I’m pretty much a big deal over here in Turkey because everyone who meets me squeals with joy. Apparently Curtis and Annie talk way too much about my photography, and, well, show them some of things I’ve done. I’m sure if the economy continues to tank in the U.S., I could make a decent living over here because just shy of being asked for my autograph today, you’d think I was a modern day Ansel Adams.
We spontaneously decided to head to Tarsus today…because we could. It’s pretty much like driving to Overland Park from downtown Kansas City, only, well, Paul lived and breathed there, the remains of a Roman road have been uncovered there, the prophet Daniel is buried there (supposedly), Cleopatra has a gate there, and everyone wears MC Hammer pants there. So other than the drive time being the same, there’s really nothing the same about it. I know the only comment any of you care about in this paragraph is the one about the Hammer pants. Let me “break it down” for you. Apparently they’re “too legit to quit” wearing them here in Turkey. I wanted to see the tomb of Daniel more up close, but the guard, conveniently wearing said pants, replied, “You can’t touch this.” I was so discouraged, so distraught, Curtis found just the right words. “Kelly,” he said, “you have to pray just to make it today.” I quickly recovered, after realizing he was right. “Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh,” I said, “I’ll stop.” It was, after all, Hammer time. Before I leave I might just have to acquire a pair of what they call şalvar (again, being so culturally advanced, that’s pronounced “shal-var”).
On our way back we stopped at the other university in Adana. I quickly became aware that I was the only blonde around. A nice young man came up to the table in the outdoor cafe where we were having some refreshments and offered to clear the remains of what had been left before us. I made the mistake of smiling at him while making eye contact when he walked away. Apparently, this means something very different culturally here in Turkey. I always manage to learn things the hard way. When you do this to a man you don’t know here, it communicates that you’re interested in him or find him attractive. So when he came back again with a big smile on his face, eager to clear away our water bottles and drink cups, I was quickly instructed by Annie to NOT look at him. I take you back to the statement above. I’m a pretty big deal here.
Our night ended by meeting a few more of their friends while enjoying müzlü süt. Geez. It is SO exhausting having to explain all of this to you people. It’s banana milk. And it’s gooooooooooood. I would tell you more about it, but I’m falling asleep at the keyboard. And, well, without any MC Hammer jokes or cultural quirks, there’s only so much you can say about banana milk.
Tomorrow we’re headed to Cappadocia. Not sure if I’ll have a chance to write until we get back, but man…I’m sure there will be stories.
Excited to hear more…
um, hi. should you decided to buy any souvenirs for friends, like say ones that brought you your toiletries in your time of need, feel free to get a pair of the so called salvar (aka hammer pants) and bring them home so that they can say “uh, oh! uh, oh! uh, oh, uh, oh! uh, oh! uh, oh! here come the hammer”
i like your t-shirts………
kelly, reading your blog is as addicting as wearing MC Hammer pants! keep them coming girl, they make my day!
I had MC Hammer Pants but I don’t know where I put them. I am a big girl size.
Kelly, Remember the taxi driver that brought you out to Grandma & Grandpa’s anniversary/birthday party? Watch out who you smile at and look at with those incredibly big blue eyes! I’m sure they’re more intoxicating than the Tylenol PM and red wine combo. BTW, I have your autograph. Do you think I could sell it over there? xoxo, Aunt Janet
Ooops…meant to write green (eyes), but came out blue and now I’m red (faced). You have the eyes Helena yearns for as she feels her blue-gray eyes are so boring.
Can’t wait to see the photos of the sheep parts and the pants.