On to Ankara

When I went to the bus company to purchase my ticket for Ankara, I attempted to ask for an early bus. The clerk nodded and wrote down 10. That was too late so I went to the next company and they had a bus leaving at 9, but the clerk was rather obnoxious, so I went back to the first place. I asked again; a customer in line also tried to help out with the transaction. Then the clerk called her colleague who got on the phone with me and explained that indeed there was a 9:00 bus and I was being assigned seat #10! I then realized what the other customer was doing- he was crouching down and bouncing - attempting to illustrate a seat! On the ticket your gender is indicated so unaccompanied men and women do not sit together.

I hit the jackpot on Thursday- in seat #9 was a young English teacher. Tuba answered all the stored up questions I had such as- why is that group of people in the bus station throwing that young man up in the air and why does he have 6 pacifiers around his neck? Turns out the extended family was giving their son a grand send-off to the army; the pacifiers were just a joke.

Before we got to the outskirts of town I asked Tuba about the scarf issue. She said that as a public school teacher she cannot wear a scarf. Women who wear scarves must take them off as they enter. When I asked why she did not wear a scarf, she took my dictionary and looked up the word tolerance. "We have a tolerant religion. I can pray and fast, but it is my decision to wear the scarf." She said people just accept the fact that the scarf can't be worn, they play by the rules. I mentioned to her that in Israel there are public religious and public secular schools. She was impressed. But when I mentioned then that the 2 communities lead very separate lives, she did not think that was good. She said her best friend wears a scarf, there is no separation between the groups.

Her school is applying for grants so they can have an exchange program with another school for a few weeks. She thinks it's ımportant that the children learn about another culture. School is compulsory until 8th grade. Students who can afford it pay for heating the school. Money is collected for students who cannot afford the uniforms.

Riding buses is really a trip. Smoking is prohibited, unless the driver is sticking his cigarette out the window. A young man first dispenses water, then your choice of a hot drink, then coffee cake, then handiwıpes, then hand sanitizer. What could be more fun! There's a rest break- really a smoking break.

Like many Turkish people, Tuba hadn't traveled much in her country. During her summer break, they go back to her father's village and help with the cherry harvest. He is there for 2 months, as she explained to me the key to delicious cherries is the timing of the watering.

At the Ankara bus station we exchanged emails and parted. She had come to visit her boyfriend. I was visiting Louise and Steve from Atlanta. Louise is on a Fulbright for 9 mos. at Ankara University hospital. She is a doctor working with the elderly.

They have a big apartment with a great view of the city and its notorious pollution. They could intercept communications from the mammoth 10 story+ green Russian embassy. And of course there is a huge skelton of a massive hotel that has been empty for 18 years. (Half built buildings is a common site all over Turkey.) Louise brought me to the old section of the city. Not much was happening in this sleepy backwater town until Atatürk decided to make it the capital. Now there are lots of government agencies and embassies in this city of 4 million. We climbed around the old Roman walls.

Friday we went with a group of Fulbrighters to Beypazari - just a 1 1/2 hour bus ride from the city. It is a delightful town with some restored Ottoman houses. The lower story is stone and the upper 2 stories are wood-framed filled with mud adobe. It sprawls across a number of hills. Lots of vendors plying their wares. They famous for carrots, weaving and even pasta! Lots of Turks come from Ankara to enjoy the village.

I wandered around up into the neighborhoods to see women roasting animal heads in small courtyard fires. They greet me with "welcome" and willingly consent to photos. Then for some reason they point to their fingers - ınquiring where my wedding ring is. One Ottoman restored mansion is a museum where you can try to art of marbelized painting. You drop paint into rose water- stir it around, like you are making a marble cake, place a sheet of paper on top of the water and then extract it by pulling it over the edge of the pan. My creation wasn't so great so I purchased a picture lying on the shelf. They were also demonstrating the shadow puppets. Louise had molten lead poured on top of her head to extract the evil spirits. When I inquired if anyone spoke English, a woman rushed over to the cupboard and pulled out a script that she read to me about the museum. Turns out she was reading phonectically- the first few sentences made sense. It was heart warming to witness her efforts.

In a linen shop, I asked the proprietor if she was the weaver. This plump woman then rushed over to her loom and demonstrated her craft. When I was ready to buy some pita in the street, the woman motioned me up the alley where I entered a dark hovel to see 2 women baking the pita in a wood oven. I bought fresh pasta and what I thought was tomato sauce for dinner (turns out it was paste.) The town has a lovely mosque with a wooden ceiling- quite unique. The women wear large patterned scarves as shawls. Next post- sights in Ankara.