First reactions after re-entry into Philadelphia (Dad)



Sunday

 1. It's cold in Philadelphia like the Aegean coast has never been (we're snowed in)

2. We have so very much in this country and we or at least I need to remember to be thankful everyday.





Monday

 3. No minarets and no azan, the Islamic call to worship which are conspicuous by their absence

4. The US should come out in support of democracy in the Middle East (e.g. Egypt) and stop supporting authoritarian bad guys. That day is past and our reputation abroad severely tarnished.

5.  I'm newly suspicious of grocery store employees who say "hello" and wish me a "nice day" (what exactly are they after?)

6.  Our 10 year old clunker SUV is a sleek machine that could drive in the fast lane in Turkey (we've been driving a 1300 cc Fiat)

7.  People generally seem either much slimmer or much heavier and in this land of extremes I saw at least one middle-aged man who thought it made sense to wear his hair in a mohawk

8.  The parking spaces in the US are huge (after Turkey I could park with my eyes closed)

9.  Does all the food need to have some sort of sauce on it?

10.  Cheesesteaks are still pretty tasty

11. Returning an item here takes about 15 seconds, requires no rubber stamps, no invoice in triplicate and no zeroing out of the entire transaction 

12. I've been crammed into Turkish elevators and buses so crowded that people are touching on all sides but in six months I've had no physical contact as rude or jarring as the "thump" on the shoulder from the US Airways flight attendant who asked if I wanted a sandwich (back off dude!)

13. Tell me again why we need 6 varieties of onions and ten flavors of bagels?

It's great to be back but I can feel my heart rate picking up as I re-enter the machine that is America.

Leaving Turkey

Zach writing.

So 2 days ago we left Turkey forever (probably 2 or 3 years) and it was one of the saddest things I've ever done. It was kind of like a very long dream and now I'm being woke up and sent to Iran. Me and Sam have so many good memories in the house for just 6 months. My bed where me and Sam have wrestled for hours, the kitchen where we've eaten about 1000 ekmeks, and of course the balcony for throwing paper planes off countless times. When we were leaving the house and saying good bye to the furniture I felt like crying because for the first time ever I've been in a real house for less than a year. And when I thought about it, there isn't really anything to look froward to in Iran execept my Grandparents as where in Philly we have our nice big house a large tv with ENGLISH channels (the one in Turkey was ALL in Turkish) and our ping pong table and most of all people understanding us ALL THE TIME 24/7 with out us having to speak some foreign language that we..... sort of know.

All in all Turkey was an awesome experience that I will never forget, I've made friends that I would trust with my life and friends that I can talk for hours with, and a school that I actually look forward to going to everyday. I think these 6 months have been the best ever and Im very sad to go.    ;(.

In other words I DONT WANT TO GO!

K bye now

Dad's Kili journal pix from Rift Valley Children's Village

Careful, Tanzania is pretty easy to fall in love with.

First day of school after a long winter break (girls are in blue skirts).

Lazaro, the secondary school student Jasmine is sponsoring.

Squatters' shacks just outside the gates.

Say hi to Janie, the primary school student Jasmine is sponsoring.

Dad's Kilimanjaro diary, summit day

GREAT NEWS!! Jasmine made it to the summit this morning although I wasn't there to share the moment. She is exhausted and euphoric and I'm thrilled for her. 


My experience was slightly different. I haven't felt well for the last few days (fluid in my lungs) but kept thinking I could get rid of it with Diamox and aclimatization walks. Today at 1 am after about an hour of hiking what seemed to be straight up I felt like I was drowning in midair and I lost the group. Assistant guide Matthew stayed behind with me and we pressed on for two more hours but at 3 am I was disoriented and gasping for air and hadn't reached 5,000 meters (summit is 5,895). On the way down my constant thought, other than trying not to fall off the mountain, was that I was trying to breathe underwater with an arrow through my head. Ugh. Legs felt great too which was where I focused all my training. 

BUT...Jasmine is smiling in her sleep and I am so very happy for her. Not to mention that I've been able to spend eight days on the mountain with her and in two days we leave for the Rift Valley Childrens' Village.


Life is good and we are so very thankful.

Dad's Kilimanjaro diary, Part 1

Dec. 29 - Jasmine and I flew to Istanbul on Wednesday morning and checked our bags at the Nippon Hotel in Taksim Square right away. We took the Metro to Kabatash and walked to Dolmabahche to squeeze in a little site seeing. While it was in some respects impressive the tour was sort of a rambling monologue highlighting the weight (in tons) of the crystal chandeliers and size of the carpets. As they hustled us through room after room I couldn't help but think of how many short cuts they had taken and how this must have bankrupted the country. It was freezing cold and trying to rain so instead of racing to Topkapi Palace Jasmine suggested we go someplace for lunch and get warmed up.  

The Bosphorous and Jasmine from Dolmabahce.

After lunch and coffee we looked for shoe inserts and hand warmers, two things that don't seem to have hit mainstream Turkey. We probably visited a dozen ski/sports shorts making hand motions as if we were sticking a very small pillow into Jasmine's gloves. The search took on the flavor of a mission as we explored every little store in every little alley that looked like it might have some potential. We basically admitted defeat but just as we rolled into Tophane our hopes went up again as the train passed two ski stores. Sure enough, the second shop sold us 10 for 45 TL or about $30. Pricey, but worth it if it keeps Jasmine from freezing her toes and fingertips.


Jasmine is excited and nervous about the climb but in a way the orphanage has become almost as important as Kili and has turned into a great experience already. She's writing personal notes to friends of mine with jokes about having to haul the old man up the hill which is a nice way for her to enter the community of adults who care about each others' kids. Personally I can't wait to visit the orphanage which has sort of stolen the show at least in my own mind.


Dec 30 & 31 - We woke up at 3 a.m. this morning to catch our KLM flight from Ataturk airport to Amsterdam and for much of the day Jasmine and I were both in a daze. We had nearly five hours of delay in Amsterdam's Schiphol airport to read, look at chocolates, sample cheese and then chocolate and then more cheese. The flight itself was fairly uneventful but landing in Kilimanjaro was sort of everything we had been looking forward to. A strong tropical breeze was blowing and at 10:30p it was still 26 degrees Celsius. The airport was tiny but had great looking mahogany floors and ceiling fans churning away. Visas cost $100 each but I guess we knew that and outside we found our driver, william, who was just great. I wish he was leading our guide but he told us he had been promoted (after climbing Kili 128 times) and is in charge of organizing things now from HQ. The Ilboru Lodge is spartan but nice and I'm on the patio of our room writing while Jasmine answers sponsor emails and eats mangos that we bought at the market in Arusha.

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Turkey sort of snuck up on us (Dad's thoughts about leaving)

When we first arrived in Turkey we came with a sense of enthusiasm and momentum (most of us anyway) that allowed us to plow into almost anything Turkish and make the best of it. Intensive Turkish lessons? Sure. Drive across the country in week two and visit Cappadocia? No problem. With our American eyes and stomachs however, it wasn't necessarily love at first sight. The food was pretty bland, folks seemed eager to overcharge and we had almost no ability to make ourselves understood. Thankfully over time we found our way to good people who weren't interested only in the quick score and with whom we slowly built a relationship as non-cruise ship Americans. 

The owner/manager of our building for example was super professional, fair and incredibly helpful with his one sentence phrases explaining the unexplainable to us about Turkish culture. Eating out was another example. Our dinners were not Applebees events where the food and the experience is templatized and has nothing to do with a personal relationship. Instead, and I'm guessing the US was more like this 50 years ago, we had our favorite shops and cafes and that really meant that we had our favorite shopkeepers and cafe owners who got to know us and who remembered things like "no parsley" for Zach or balsamic vinegar for Ladan. The experience started with the food but had a lot more to do with the people than it typically does in the US.

And speaking of food, remember the meat that we found so bland in the beginning? Over time we discovered red meat isn't necessarily at the center of a great Turkish meal and we began to put a lot more emphasis on the subtle flavor of smoked eggplant, the taste of first press olive oil from a friend's orchard and the freshness of the grilled calamari. I'll also miss buying 10 lbs of mandarin oranges for $2 only a few feet from where they were grown after sailing lessons Sunday mornings on the bay. I really looked forward to the weekly adrenaline rush as we plowed through super clear blue water with our 10 meter boat and high-fived each other as if we were sailing by ourselves. Our instructor meanwhile was never far from the tiller and with unfailing Turkish hospitality would somewhere in the middle of the four hour class offer us tea. No matter how rough the seas were or how hard the boat was keeling somewhere around 11a it was "one lump or two?" Afterwards, newly charged up with some sort of special sea power we helped ourselves to fresh produce, honey and home canned goods at the nearby farmers market. Turkey's bounty took awhile to discover and access was often inconvenient but I will miss the quality of the experience once we found what we wanted.

There is a lot to be said for the efficiency of the US, and goodness knows there were times we really craved some efficiency, but where Americans often seem to be in an endless hurry the hardworking Turks always seem to have time to offer you tea or to show off their futbol (soccer) skills even if it's in the middle of the street. Even the aggressive driving that shocked us when we first arrived became more about give-and-take and no one seemed too upset when we too learned how to wedge our little car into an already jammed street. Slowly but surely we were invited into the conversation and into the hearts and minds of the folks we got to know. Turkey snuck up on us and I sure hope we make it back.

Last night in Izmir (Ladan)

(Ladan writing) Yesterday I drove Warren and Jasmine to the airport in the early morning dark-dusk. The city was eerily still and deserted at 5:00 a.m. ...... a light fog was rising off the sea and climbing into the hills. It occurred to me that this would possibly be the 2nd to last time to drive to Gaziemir/airport; a drive that we'd done twice a day for the last 5 months. The day I'd  looked forward to since the beginning of our arrival in Turkey was almost here. But I was not relieved!!

In fact I was sad to be leaving our little cocoon. I'd woken up at 3:00 a.m and hadn't been able to go back to sleep, so I'd walked into the living room where I could hear the kid's sleepy breath down the hall. Here I was confronted with the simplicity of our lives.

For the last 5 months we've been enwrapped in a 3 bedroom apartment on the 15th floor, within ear shot of  each other and surrounded by a beautiful view (of a not so beautiful city). On this night, the view had taken on the form of a celestial sky as the hills that gradually rise above Izmir  encroached one side of our apartment and sparkled with bright, speckled lights that mimicked a starry night. In that moment of silence I had to admit that I had really enjoyed our little break from reality and was sorry that it's coming to an end.

Today as we said our last goodbyes to new friends it cemented for me that I will definitely miss our time in Izmir.

"Home" (Sam)

You know when you are going to miss a place when you begin to refer to it as home. It is a shame that we have to leave now, because we are just settling into our little nitch. Mom and Dad finally made friends, whom happen to have children we enjoy greatly. I have a fairly good command of Alsancak, so much so that momma actually lets me walk from one end to another :0 (that is most certainly necessary). I have actually begun to refer to our apartment as home instead of "the apartment" which i so endearingly referred to it as just after we moved in. And to think that we are leaving in less than 24 hours is simply a shame, and there is no way to describe how much I will miss Izmir.

-Sam

Internal Conflict

On a slightly more serious note. My feelings about leaving Turkey are much like those about when we left Philadelphia in September. I spoke about it, I knew it was coming, I was on the rail of how much I wanted it to happen, but the reality never hit me. Jasmine and Dad leaving this morning (literally minutes before I am writing this) helped to make the reality hit home.

This morning I woke up at 4 am, I don't know how, but somehow my body must have known that that was the time that my dad was getting up to get ready. In the time between waking up and actually getting up I simply thought. To be thoroughly honest there is no word in my vocabulary to describe my thoughts, bittersweet could be used but something more powerful is necessary. Now that we are close to the end, I can't wait to go home, I miss Philadelphia, I miss the U.S., I miss Diesel, I miss my friends, and I want to go back. The conflict is that I always knew, and know now that I am going to go back and live that life again, I am never, going to get to live in Turkey again. And for all our complaining and whining, I love Turkey, but another thing that Turkey has taught me is that I love Philadelphia too. 

I can't find a fitting analogy for the conflict I feel. I never actually visualized going back to Philadelphia, but this morning I did, and I want to go back. I want to go lie down on our nice big couch in front of our nice big T.V. with our nice big dog right next to me. At the same time I just don't want to leave, I want to stay right here in the nice big apartment, in our little and not so nice (but still comforting) kitchen, with a nice big loaf of fresh bread we get every morning. 

Because these are our last couple of days in Turkey I am going to begin a series of goodbye blogs, despite the fact that I don't necessarily want to leave.

-Sam

The Dual for Supremacy (in basketball and other sports)

The last time my dad and I played a game of one-on-one basketball I won, and just about everyone in town heard about it. I even heard he received some hazing from the secretaries at Penn Valley (my old school, and Zach's current school.) He had sworn that he would beat me the next time around, and I simply couldn't wait, but I think he could. He was never fully ready to take on the task of his 14-year-old son due to some weird injury, I might even go so far as to say I think he faked the knee operation he had last year to avoid certain doom. After his trip up Kilamanjaro he said he felt great and with all that uphill walking, he could definitely jump higher (in his mind.)

So two days ago on a fateful Saturday in January, with a slight over cast, the battle began. We got out of the car and walked the way to the courts of a small school nearby, to our dismay the "good" courts had cars parked all over them. So we walked to the back courts, and for those of you who don't know, the rim on most basketball hoops is either straight, or slightly sagging because of people dunking and hanging on them. On these courts however, the rims were pointed at about 10 degrees upward, something that neither my dad nor I had seen in our combined experiences. On top of that there were slippery water and mud splotches which effectively eliminated using a good part of the court. Either way they were all the courts we had and we had to make due. We started and I was up 4-0 in the first game and he came back to make it 5-4 dad, then up to 8-5 me, and finally a finish at 11-7 me. The next game was a little closer, again I came out strong 3-0, but then dad tied it up at 3-3. From there it was neck and neck but I would like to point out that at about 5-5 my dad had a good move under the basket and what looked like an easy bucket until he was thoroughly disgraced being blocked by someone who is 3 inches shorter a.k.a me. Dad actually got a win in game three but by four he was tired and I won in dramatic fashion with an uncontested jumpshot and the words "the finisher" as I put up the shot. Meanwhile I think that our shortage of breath had not been due to the hour of basketball we had played, but the amount of smack we spoke, and this is pretty much just the continuation. There was not a single moment that we were not playing basketball, talking trash, or multi-tasking and doing both at the same time.

-If u haven't guessed...  Sam

Names

During our time in Turkey we have been fortunate to visit two other countries: Greece and Iran. And in every country the reaction to the kid's names is the same. Here is the scenario

In Turkey,
New person:"So what are all of their names"
Mom: "This is Zachariah"
New person: "Ohhhh, Zachariah, this is Turkish name"
Mom: "This is Jasmine"
New person: "Jasmine like Yasmine, this is Turkish name"
Mom: "This is Sam"
New person: "........"

In Greece,
New person: "So what are all of their names"
Mom: "This is Zachariah"
New person: "Like Zechary this is Greek name, it means sugar"
Mom: "This is Jasmine"
New person: "Ohhhh like Yasmine, this is Greek name"
Mom: "This is Sam"
New person: "That is a nice American name"

In Iran,
New person: "So what are all of their names"
Mom: "This is Zachariah"
New person: "Ohhhh this is Farsi name"
Mom: "This is Jasmine"
New person: "Ohhhh Jasmine, like the flower Yaseman, this is Farsi name"
Mom: "This is Saam" (Farsi spelling, because Saam in fact is a Farsi name"
New person: "............."

Best Quotes from Jasmine and Dad's Trip so far

Cab driver: you going on crazy holiday?

Me: what?

Cab driver: where you sleep on de ground on de mountain in de cold and no toilet...dat one crazy holiday

Do you celebrate New Year's here?

Guide: oh yes, plenty champaigning tonight

Driver: dry season come now, plenty of African snow (pointing to a huge dust cloud)

Guide: Swahili is a made up language from 120 tribes so when you try to speak it makes you laugh and when you laugh there is no more fighting. 

Head guide (in response to a question about having to physically force people with altitude sickness to turn around): "Oh no no no no no no no no no...if you die on de mountain it's really a very big problem for me."

Group: How's the weather today?
Guide (every single time): De weather on de mountain is like chameleon...always changing.