istanbul, not constantinople

finally getting around to posting about the last leg of our trip - istanbul. what an amazing city. "where east meets west" is istanbul's slogan, and it's very true. even geographically, the bosphorous river splits the city between two continents: an asian side and a european side. a little mix of ancient history with chic cosmopolitan. historical castles next to towering skyscrapers. muslims in traditional headdresses mingling with girls in miniskirts. loved it. the miniskirts...no, i mean the whole vibe of the city.

what made the istanbul experience that much better was that siva's friend from undergrad, sina, hosted us for the three days we were there. sina has spent most of his life in istanbul, and he took us far beyond the tourist hotspots...

sure, we spent an afternoon checking out the magnificient architecture of the blue mosque and hagia sofia museum, and the bustling grand bazaar (we bought a hookah) and spice market, but for the rest of the time we lived like locals. albeit young, hipster locals.

straight up, sina is a baller. we got a taste of his life for a few days. we stayed at his high rise apartment overlooking the river, we dined at trendy restaurants, walked/stumbled though istiklal caddesi, a street dedicated to shops, restaurant, bars, and clubs that thousands of istanbulites flood every night, hung out with his beautiful friends, the works.

the highlight was dropping ridiculous amounts of loot at this megaclub called sorti. we had a four-course meal at one of sorti's four posh restraunts, supper club (check out the website photos and you'll understand). the restraunts then close late-night to make this amazing open-air club right on the river. yachts even pull up to get into the club. we mingled with pro soccer players and turkish movie stars. ridiculous. it was such a good night that we partied all the way up to our 5am red-eye flight back to chicago. it's fun to throw money (that i really don't have) around somtimes.

maybe when i'm thirty-something and finally making money, i'll be able to live like sina. until then, i'm back to making kraft macaroni and cheese. bummer. i should have gone into business...

our experience would have been completely different without sina. we would have gotten lost in the eighth largest city in the world, and most likely gotten suckered into all the tourist traps. we lived like true istanbulites, except for the fact that we ran out of money and couldn't afford the russian prostitutes that is apparently a popular nightcap in istanbul...ha!

even old new york, was once new amsterdam

the american dream? dream on?

i'm (free!) reading this great little book nickel and dimed - on (not) getting by in america by barbara ehrenreich (thanks, melissa. i know you told me to read this years ago). anyway, this lady decided to do some investigative journalism in its purist form - she quit her job as an essayist and became part of the "unskilled" working class that millions of americans are a part of. she wanted to find out if she could work a low paying job, such as waitressing or housekeeping, find a cheap place to live and make ends meet. obviously, if you've ever worked a shit job in high school or college (i worked plenty, including time as an oil sample tester - long story), you know that it would be nearly impossible.

what i find interesting about this book is that ehrenreich challenges the myth of the american dream. some of the co-workers she meets have this blinding optimism that if they work hard enough, they'll make it big. in reality, she believes, most, if not all, will never break through.

until now, i've subscribed to the idea of the american dream. my parents and extended family are living examples: refugees from Vietnam, working jobs, getting through school, and eventually becoming successful.

but with a massive flood of immigrants in recent years, the support they recieve when starting off isn't as good as thirty years ago. it's true that my family had american sponsors who helped them get settled.

i guess what i'm trying to get at is, this book reminded me of an iranian family siva and i met on a bus from cappadocia to istanbul. a group of 10-15 of them had been traveling by bus all the way from iran though turkey to reach istanbul and fly to the united states. suprisingly (or not), some of the family members approached us at a rest stop and asked if we were americans. we said yes. then the questions came pouring out: what is california like? what is oregon like? jobs good in los angeles? jobs good in portland?

from how they were dressed and the sheer number of them flying to the u.s., i assumed that this was a prominent family in iran, or at least part of the educated class there. aside from asylum or the fear of war, the american dream still drives families like this from around the world to come to the states. but what will they do when they get there? their english is sparse. their nationality will probably create some tension. the only jobs they'll get will be the jobs ehrenreich got. in no way, will they have the same affluent life as they did back in iran. is it really worth it to come here?

for my journalism minor in college, i did similar research about the current situation of new immigrants. i even helped sudanese refugees get settled in colorado springs. and my only positive take on the american dream is that it still exists, but in a different form now...

the modern american dream exists mostly for the next generation.

it is the immigrant parents who work 2 or 3 low income, "unskilled" jobs, that still make time to push their children to excel in school, who have the best chance of seeing the rewards of the new american dream. the parents may never have an easy life, but their kids have a shot.

no doubt. my life has been much easier compared to my parents' humble beginnings in america. shit, i just traveled around europe for a month, something my parents would never have considered when they were my age...they were too busy trying to get by.

so here's to the iranian family. best of luck. i hope they achieve some variation of the american dream.

schoolgirl crush

the saying "a way to a man's heart is through his stomach" is completely true. for me at least...
sundays slow way down in turkey for some reason, even though the islamic holy day is friday. so sundays means slow bus service. this left siva and i in a jam. we wanted to explore more of the cities in cappadocia, but there were few buses and money was getting tight. in the end, over much debate, we rented a moped. one moped.

if siva and i hadn't bonded over the past 3 weeks, then sharing a moped did.

we clumsily cruised around and took in the sights. i was feeling a little "brokeback" as manu would call it.

towards sunset, we stopped at a "park" entrance to look around. while siva went off to take more pictures, i stood around in a daze. randomly, three turkish girls walked up to me. one of the girls, funda, approached me with two big pieces of cake. in broken english, she offered me cake. i gladly accepted. we conversed as best we could. she really wanted to get to know me. a few awkward, language-barrier pauses later, she invited me (and siva) over to her family's picnic. i was flattered. i liked her initiative.

we drank lots of tea as i observed the family dynamics, particularly the dad who seemed a little suspicious of us. i don't blame him. randomly (again), funda blurts out "you should come and stay at my home tonight." *snap!* any "brokeback" feelings had now subsided.

that would be one helluva "homestay."

unfortunately, her mom understood her enough to say the turkish word for hotel. i picked up on the body language. it was not going to happen. diyassed. by the mom.

we politely exchanged info and parted ways. i hopped back on the moped with siva, feeling "brokeback" once again.

istanblur

ended the tour of turkey with a bang. a three-day bender in istanbul.

just got back into chicago. i'm exhausted. i need a vacation from my vacation.

more stories to come...once i remember what i did exactly.

by land, by sea, by (hot) air

i splurged. again.

my credit card company is in love with me right now.

siva and i decided that we couldn't pass up a chance to view the strange valleys of cappadocia (see previous post) by hot air balloon. no matter the debt that keeps piling up.

i've always wanted to ride in a hot air balloon, but never really had the opportunity. and this was the perfect scenery to lose my ballooning virginity.

before sunrise, we got our asses out of bed and soon floated around the area for an hour. the only way to describe the ride is with a marshallese "wwoooooww!" an amazing experience. such a different visual perspective.

plus, the balloon company gave me an official certificate, stating that i completed my flight. i think i'll frame it. heh.

in the land of a thousand (rock) penises

or is it penii?!?

the region of cappadocia is one of the strangest, most fascinating landscapes on earth. no joke.

located in central turkey, centuries of volcanic activity, plus wind and water erosion sculpted the land into a scenery that looks like it should be in super mario world. there are literally thousands of these towering phallic symbols that sprout from the ground. the picture up top doesn't do this place justice.

for centuries, people hand-carved out rock churches, monastaries, and homes in these rock formations. some of the townspeople still live in "caves" today. of course, we bought into the hype and slept in a cave dorm. we hiked through the various valleys, mountain biked through the terrain, toured underground cities and rock churches, and rode camels (another tourist splurge).

goreme, the town in cappadocia we set up shop in, is my favorite spot in turkey so far (only istanbul is left). it has a great mix of small town, rural turkey in the outskirts with a bustling, modern main centre. although tourism is huge here, it still somehow maintains its genuine turkish charm.

the scenery doesn't hurt either.

camel jockeys

put us in a nissan xterra commercial!

the outdoor, adventurous side of me has been unleashed. after the sail boat dropped us off in the modern, fishing village of kaş, we sea kayaked the mediterranean, paddling over kekova, "the sunken city." since it is prohibited to swim in these ancient ruins, the best way to get up close and personal is by kayaking. the waves were a little choppy, but we saw how two massive earthquakes destroyed and plunged the city underwater.

hopped on a bus to olympos, but spontaneously decided we were done with the backpackers scene (olympos is a haven for them/us) for a while, and hiked along the beach to the sleepy beachtown, çirali. got a "treehouse" - more like a shack on stilts - on the beach. but before we let ourselves pass out, we trekked a couple kilometers at nightfall to chimaera, the eternal flames. a strange, jaw dropping phenomenom.

called in turkish yanartas (flaming rock), chimaera consists of some two dozen permanent gas vents in the ground, grouped in two patches in the lycian mountains. for centuries, these vents have been spitting out fire 24/7. a bunch of myths were made from these flames, of course, and it has baffled geologist somewhat. the trail sign claimed it was the inspiration for the olympic torch/flame that burns during the olympic games, but i don't buy it.

anyway, it was a sight to see. using my trusty, little headlamp to guide the way, we headed toward the bright flames randomly glowing on the side of the mountain. the place reeked of methane. i was curious to see what would happen if i farted near the flame, but i was afraid i'd set my ass on fire...so i held it in.

off to a region called cappadocia that is supposed to have even more amazing outdoor excursions.

is this burning, an eternal flame?

the pros and cons of backpacking

backpacking this extensively has been an experience in itself. most of my previous abroad experiences have been settling in one place. i can't decide which i like better...

on one hand, this constant traveling is exciting. always in new places, seeing and experiencing new things in rapid succession. i mean to see three countries in about a month is ridiculous!

being part of the backpacker scene also means meeting a lot of other backpackers from around the world. for the most part, we've met some great people and have made friends along the way. sharing traveling stories, learning about other cultures, new drinking/dancing buddies. my favorite conversation is trying to explain what a fraternity is and how it's not like the "revenge of the nerds" and in the end agreeing that it's kind of a weird (borderline stupid) concept.

of course, there are always a few bad apples. particularly the pretentious backpacker who has travelled everywhere and makes it quite clear to everyone, rattling off countries in every topic of conversation (ie "when i was in ______ i wiped my ass this way - i kid, i kid). it just irks me when they talk shit about other travelers who party or don't do things their way. hey, if someone wants to spend their money to party in turkey, then so be it. as long as they're enjoying themselves. sure, they miss out on some great sites and experiences, but that's their prerogative. i'm just glad they travelled in the first place.

*start sympathetic side note* - i hope i don't come off like one of these people in my blog. sure, i've traveled a lot, but that's just my thing. it makes me happy. if you want to prioritize eating corndogs, more power to you. i want this to be a way for you to come along for the ride, while i pile up the debt! *end sympathetic side note*

on the other hand, what backpacking lacks is sense of community. when you travel so fast, you forget to slow down and take it all in.

some of the most memerable times in turkey has been not what i've seen. it's been:

• sitting outside in small town turkey with siva drinking beers, playing chess, and smoking apple tobacco out of a sheesha (hookah) while old men walk by and try to give us tips in turkish.
• abruptly waking up at 4 am to the islamic "call to prayer" that is blasted across every city, every morning.
• briefly talking to a turkish tv news reporter on "holiday" about his experiences in eastern turkey and how slanted the u.s. media is.
• drinking raki (turkish black licorice hard alcohol) with aytu, a young turkish student, about his mandatory service in the turkish military.
• hanging out with the cabin boy of our sailing trip, both ogling at one of the hot, MARRIED australian passengers, and realizing that hormones are hormones no matter the nationality and language difference (and also learning later that "finike" is a port town in turkey, not the turkish word for "sex." whoops.).

those times are too far and few between for my liking. that's where the advantage of living in a community comes in. you get to rid yourself of the tourist stigma...plus the fact, you learn more of the language. i feel like such a jackass knowing only how to say "hello" and "thank you" in each country. it's pitiful.

so what does this all mean? not sure. but it may mean i'll come back to turkey some day and stay put...for more than a couple days at least. you can't just scratch the surface with this intriguing blend of islamic culture shaken and stirred with a modern and westernized twist.

shooting the shit at a hookah lounge with joe, a british backpacker, in kaş.

turkish delight

there's something about the water that invigorates me. from booze cruising around the world on semester at sea to riding on a homemade outrigger canoe in the middle of the pacific ocean in search of coconut crabs, water and i have always seemed to click.

it's no different here in turkey. after ephesus, we headed to the sea town of fethiye. spent the night at a great hostel where the owner made us one of her famous turkish "sexy dinners." we partied with a couple of their young turkish workers, drinking and dancing to turkish pop. the next morning, we got on a turkish gület, a wooden sailing ship. along with some other travelers, we sailed along the turkish mediterranean coast line and stopped at some beautiful spots along the way for two days and one night. the turquoise waters, the crashing waves, the endless blue horizon...it doesn't get anybetter.

but it can.

it so happened that it was a full moon the one night on the ship. siva and i slept on the deck of the boat under the full moon and stars. it was so romantic, i almost spooned with him...just kidding. no, really. kidding.

we're back on land and planning some more outdoor adventures in turkey. we are going non-stop here!

at butterfly valley, a little cove where thousands of monarch butterflies gather (in august - got here a little too early) to mate.

pondering my love of street food

i love street food. all around the world, i crave vendors on the side of the road selling random cuisines. my salivary glands tingled with delight every time i bought a currywurst in germany, a pork gyro pita in greece, and meat kababs and döners in turkey. don't know why though...is it because i feel more part of the community eating what the locals eat? is it because it's so cheap? or is it because i'm a gambling man and love the suspense of whether the food will come out solid at the other end? ha!

but i've always wondered, what is the equivalent of street food in the u.s.? is it the shriveled up hot dog you see at your local 7/11? if that's the case, maybe i should reconsider my love for street food. maybe all the locals snicker when i eagerly eat it up. they're probably thinking "that dumbass is eating shit i'd never touch in a million years!"

your thoughts?

living like kings

after draining my bank account (more like loan money) with the euro, the turkish lira was heaven sent. finally, a currency that was weaker than the stuggling dollar! boo yah!

from here on out, this is going to be a whirlwind tour of turkey, traveling almost the entire western coast and then some. usually only staying a day or two in each city. putting our backpacks and sandals to use, for sure.

so with what seems like more money, we can eat a little less street food, drink a little more beer, and splurge on random "needs".

for example, today i was just walking down the street, saw a local barber shop, and thought to myself "i haven't shaved in a while" (yeah, i'm a freak asian that actually grows more facıal hair than just a dirty stash)...so with some extra lira in my pocket, i went in and got a professional shave. seems quite excessive, but man it felt good. old school-style. brush-on shaving cream, single blade, aftershave lotion, the works. for a couple u.s. dollars! it's good to be kıng.

speaking of royalty, our first stop in turkey was ephesus, the best preserved ancient city in the mediteranean. one of the seven wonders of the ancıent world. above is a pick of the library. cool columns, statues, ampitheaters, and such. kind of strange to be able to walk around in the ruins like that. should be in a museum or something.

not being much of a history buff, and reading all the background about this place made me realize that i know nothing about the greek/roman/ottoman empires. but since i'm kind of shallow, all i could think about was how sweet it would be to throw a toga party there...heh.

being a frat boy doesn't mean i'm greek

*updated/edited* - mykonos island, greece was definitely the "holiday" portion of our trip. for those of you not down with the snotty euro lingo, "holiday" means "vacation" to us plain ammerricans. and what does one do on "holiday" on mykonos? you party. period. besides the beautiful, white architecture and decent beaches, the rest of the island is filled with posh bars, clubs, more clubs, and fast-food drunken munchies stands.

greece can best be described by the characters we met....

mike - first night. just got ınto town. siva and i went to a bar to watch one of the world cup games. siva decided to go find cigars for us, leaving me alone at the bar table. a couple minutes later, a white guy comes up to me and asks if he can sit down. i say it's taken. relieved i spoke english, he introduced himself. because mykonos is also known to be a gay party island, i was sizing mike up in my head. was he gay? was he hitting on me? shhaatt! it didn't take long to realize that he was straight...

when siva came back, one of the first things that came out of his mouth was "so you guys like pussy, right?" a self-proclaimed "fucking dirty sailor," mike, a private in the navy, proceeded to tell us stories of the prostitutes that he was slept with all over the world. he was on military leave for a week on the island by himself. kind of strange, but he knew all the hot spots. we cruised for chicks. drank a lot. mike made a fool of himself most of the time. my brutal italian game spitting did not work. we lost mike as he tried to hit on these 40-something year old swedish women. ate late night gyros and passed out.

liam and samantha - great older, solo backpackers we met at our hostel. we ate a great dinner, wıth the famous, local pelican waddling past our table. discussed how insane ıt is for americans to only get two weeks of vacation time. liam from england gets 4 weeks. samantha from australia is traveling around the world until september. america does suck in that aspect. live to work instead of work to live. quite sad, actually. we drank at some bars by the coast, then strapped on our dancing shoes/sandals (great beach parties as well!). i love seeing white people dance.

sara and chantelle - met these canadıan sisters (!) on the ferry to the island of samos (our drop-off island to turkey) after our stay ın mykonos was complete. we hung out with them for the rest of the time on samos. we drank ouzo, the greek black-licorice hard alcohol of choice and swapped traveling stories until we parted ways in turkey the next day -- they headed north to istanbul, we headed south. what does "hung out" mean for you siva euro-booty watchers? i'll let you decide...heh.

of course, siva has the all pictures. i rarely pull out my huge camera. so you only get a nice, scenic shot of a church. sorry.

thanks to PY and someone else who decided to remain anonymous for the comments. everyone else, let me know you're alive! stories of turkey coming soon. peace.

typınğ şuçkş h€r€

safely made it to turkey this morning. now, i just have to figure out this turkish keyboard...i feel like one of my marshallese students hunting and pecking wıth my index fingers.

danke, deutschland

one country down, two more to go. i'm actually wasting an hour sitting in an internet cafe in the picturesque island of mykonos, greece typing this, so i hope some of you are actually reading this!

germany was a good warmup for the rest of our backpacking experience. at least for siva, it gave him a chance to see a part of europe that has a more familiar feel to it. now on to more exotic locales...here are the highlights besides all the world cup festivities:

reeperbahn, hamburg - also known as the "genital-zone." the famous red-light district. sex shops and strip clubs to your left, posh clubs and restaurants to your right. a crazy blend of visual stimulation. AND oh yes, the prostitutes. it's very legal here. let's just say there is an actual pecking order amongst the hookers...the all-stars strut their stuff in the most exclusive and expensive street called Herbertstrasse, where plate-glass windows allow the women to display their "charms" to window shoppers. this street is only open to men over the age of 18. the sausage fest was truly a sight. since siva, matt, and i are such gentleman, we tried to be generous with our euros and buy a girl for this old man on crutches who seemed to need some more than us...but the girls waved their fingers at us and told us they still have STANDARDS! ha! unbelieveble. the bench warmers work outside that street. apparently, a girl wearing a fanny pack meant they were working. hot. the line of the night from one these girls to me: "you want to have sex with me? --no. --why not?!?" i must still have standards. heh.

a downright crazy night. staying up til 5AM, stumbling over to the "fischmarkt" the famous fishmarket that opens every sunday morning by the harbor. very seattle, fish-tossing, like. a memorable night/morning to say the least. what about siva's euro-booty watch you ask? let's just say, we haven't stooped to paying for euro-booty. yet. heh.

bremen - a storybook quality town near hamburg. siva and i daytripped it and hopped on a train and took in the sights. old-school buildings, mixed with new, modern structures.

berlin - we borrowed matt's landlord's old bmw convertible and road-tripped it on the autobahn to berlin. autobahn in a convertible. my hair was out-of-control. we flew down the autobahn. caught some sights: the berlin wall (see pic below), the jewish memorial. and one more "fan fest" watching germany lose to italy. thousands more gathered in berlin watch this game. literally a sea of red, yellow, and black. now that everyone in germany is depressed, the decision is clear. go italy - "forza azzurri!"

now, we are chilling in mykonos, greece. i'll hopefully be able to post pics soon. beautiful white-washed buildings, beaches, and crazy nightlife. we've already got stories...more to come...

deutschland mannschaft

to translate:

deutschland = germany
mannschaft = team (you guys have dirty minds)

while germany has never been on the top of my list for travel destinations, attending a world cup has. i have not been disappointed. football hysteria is at full force here. although we couldn't afford tickets to the actual game in hamburg, there was a "fan fest" area set up for the rest of us. amazing. literally throngs of people of all cultures gathered at hamburg's largest world cup party. 50,000 people in 80,000 square-meter area (hey i'm in europe now, gotta use the metric sytstem). every country that participated in the world cup each had a food/drink stand giving it a very diverse atmosphere. what was at the american tent you ask? spare ribs, hamburgers, and ben and jerry's. ha! bunch of fat-asses.

what made this more exciting is the fact that germany is still in the world cup. of course, there are a handful of argentinians and british fans hanging around (american fans are m.i.a.--suprised? no.), but you'll mostly see a sea of red, yellow, and black. so siva, matt (siva's friend who is working out here), and i donned our deutschland faux-hawks and joined the party. swilling german beers, eating currywursts (brats withh curry ketchup), and singing chants. the intensity and excitement of the german vs. argentina match we watched came to a climax when germany won the sudden-death, penalty kick overtime. the crowd erupted.

soccer/football brings the world together like nothing i've ever seen. personally, i believe two things can be considered international languages: music and sports. while i've been to international jazz fests and rock concerts where any nationality can appreciate a growling saxophone or air-ripping guitar, there's something about football that everyone can relate to...except us americans. i can't figure it out. is soccer too boring/methodical? not enough stimulation for our ADD society? too much technique and finesse for our brute force mentality?

the oft-mocked slogan of this world cup is "a time to make friends," but it carries an essential truth. we've bonded, we've cheered, we've jokingly talked shit...at least to anyone who can speak a little english.

on tuesday, we're celebrating america's birthday by hopping on a train to berlin and watching germany take on italy at another "fan fest." it's going to be crazy.

my problem is who do i root for? during the last world cup in 2002 (see previous post), i was living in italy for the summer trying to learn italian through my college. this is where my world cup fever first started. i still have an affinity toward italian culture: the food, the wine, the women, the midday nap,

really, you can only scarf so much bockwurst, bratwurst and various other wursts on the run before you realize there's a reason you don't ever go to german restaurants back home.

but do i really want to get my ass-kicked wearing my italia jersey in the middle of berlin? we'll see.

sono americano

world cup 2002 remembered:

italy vs. south korea. quarterfinals. everyone leaves work/school to watch the match. i'm at a bar in orvieto, italy with some of my classmates. the game goes into overtime. everyone is nervous. italy scores three times, but each one gets called back for offsides (that year, world cup was in korea and japan...rigged? maybe). everyone is pissed. somehow, the south koreans finally score a goal and the game is over. everyone is furious. AT ME. I scream, "sono americano, sono americano!"

even italians think we all look the same. heh.