Kurds in Van

Today is Sunday..I just learned. You can tell because the streets are empty, devoid of the honking cars and buses and seemingly hundreds of people. Its kind of nice walking around when it is like this. The Internet cafe is quiet as well, except he seems to be playing some kind of pop American country music..some girl..which I find odd...then again Turkish Pop is really annoying after awhile, so Ill take it!

Still pretty hot, even out here in the elevation of the mountains. It rains a little every night after the sunsets with the same cold rain that falls in the southwest. Actually, most everything here reminds me of the southwest...mountains, gorges, the smell of the rain, the blue skies and the adobe style villages. Even the people that reside here, predominately Kurds, have a similar attitude as that of the people of New Mexico..they consider themselves the -native people- of Turkey. I have learned, and even lived first hand some of the Kurdish culture, which was oddly my goal when I chose to come here. They are an interesting, passionate, aggressive and demonstrative people with many issues and ideals...some are very progressive and forward thinking, but there seems to be issues on the execution of these ideals that has grown a little worrisome on my part.

After the last entry, I actually met a group of university students on the street on the way back from registering my stay in Van. Being one of the only foreigners, actually, THE ONLY foreigner in Van right now, I seem to stand out even more than in Konya and Istanbul. Turks wear white, you are either English, or American. When I say that I am an American, everything seems to change. They invite me for tea, dinner or late supper, and we sit and converse about Turkey and America. This group was probably the best reprieve I could have had this trip. They are all students preparing for the Teachers exams to be teachers of either music, athletics or botany. The women made an amazing feast for dinner, and the guys and I talked about our cultures. I have spent time with older Turks, mainly men, as well as Kurdish people, so I have learned a lot about their perspective. It was amazing and refreshing to sit and learn about the younger generation, at least this one group of 20 something’s. They follow no strict religion or belief, other than equality and respect. They love music and singing, as well as literature and art. We actually had discussions about our Native Americans and how they wish to model themselves and their lives after the Native American beliefs of Earth and honor. They believe in love, the true concept, not sex and -partner hopping-. They believe in love of friends and family as all-important. They are savvy about money and economics, and very much about foreign policies and the war in Iraq. They were curious about America and our real perspective and the general stance on the war, especially on Bush. It is safe to say that there is no love for George out here, nor anywhere I have found across Turkey. It will be very interesting to see how Bush handles the Kurdish issue in Iraq as well as trying to get their own government body stabilized so we can pull out. We talked a lot of fear and travel and the future of Turkey and its culture, its people in the forward push to be apart of the EU. I think, like our own culture, or any culture for that matter, there are a set of ideals and concepts that we hold onto and carry that define us. They are beliefs and possibly idealistic values even, but we all hold onto them. These students want to incorporate more of a global awareness of cultures and lifestyles, more of their own cultural awareness, less politics and less preoccupation on money and purchasing. Yet they still wish to retain their old ways of family, respect and hospitality, rituals and holidays. These ideals are even more intensified by the Kurdish people in Turkey. These are admirable ideals for the young, but as devils advocate, I have reservations.

On the flip side, I went on a trip up into the mountains that over look Van, with an older Kurdish man and a local carpet sales man/guide. These mountains were the destination of thousands of Kurds that fled during the Armenian War, First World War, and again during the first Gulf conflict. These mountains are hellish in the summer, and brutal in the winter. They were left denude of the amazing trees that once grew there after the government burned them all down during the war to drive the Kurds out. I could still make out the paths and walkways up the side of the mountain, sometimes even old rock foundations that the Kurds had laid decades ago. These older men are part of a so-called -tribe- or association of Kurdish men that get together and revel in the old Kurdish ways. They sing old traditional Kurdish songs, they talk about the old life and discuss ways in which the Kurds will rise up slowly, but powerfully against all of the governing bodies within each of the Middle Eastern countries, similar to what the Kurds are doing now in Iraq. I am unsure how they are regrouping or uniting as of now, but there is a rise in awareness of the Kurdish culture and nationality here in Turkey. I can only liken i, as they do, to the Native Americans, or even the African Americans. They seem to associate with them in the sense of having this one whole country broken and divided, and being forced to encampments in other countries. The Kurdish were then forced to assimilate into the respective countries that were then formed, and Kurdistan was no more. They no longer had a country or nation to call their own and continue their own culture. So they are bounced around, sometimes driven out of the countries they were originally forced into, and tragically sometimes boldly attacked for no reason and euthanized, like in the first Gulf War. It is a quagmire of an issue that many nations and many cultures face. Some may even say a root cause of Americas own issues of gluttony and over consumption and waste; our own loss of who we are, since we are ourselves an amalgamation of so many other cultures. Again it’s an amazing ideal but not without its own pitfalls. When is enough, enough? What is enough?

Again, I am not posing any solutions or severe criticisms, just observations and possibly even more questions. There are still issues with all of the Middle Eastern Nations that need to be altered and advanced for anything to work. The government needs to follow some strict guidelines to be a part of the EU, removal of corruption, more accountability and ımplımentaıon of certain human rights as well as other polices. There are still concerns and a need for equal rights for woman in these nations, there are no programs or facilitation of resource recycling, little to no practice of alternative energy resources, no land conservation or more importantly management, the land is deforested and covered in rubbish and junk. There is a sense, despite limited income, rampant wastefulness. Luckily, they have very good water (lucky for me since I had to drink it on the mountain!). But we in the South West as well as Mexico know the limits of the availability and ease of contamination of our water..the Turkish people do not. One of the many benefits here is they do not use hormones or fertilizers on their land...they cant afford them! So there is a good chance that their water will remain good for quite some more time. As a result the food actually tastes like, well, FOOD! I do mean taste too, its weird. Tomatoes are everywhere and cucumbers, as well as eggplant-which I never thought really had a taste! So hooray for Turkish farming!


It is a continuing experiment as we grow in numbers, but smaller as a world, how do we remain who we were/are, and yet incorporate and accept everyone else’s ways and cultures. Maybe, over time and as necessity, we will just become a world of people..which is all we really are. We will learn as much as we can, incorporate what works, assimilate what we like and need individually, and make our bonds and groups as we may through who we meet and who we resonate the most with, as well as who we share blood with. I don’t know, but ‘it does make me wonder, but I think maybe I wonder too much...at least today!

I’m off now for lunch and then to photograph in a Kurdish village up in the mountains. I hope to have images soon for you all!


Alan

Van

Finally made it to Van after probably one of the worst travel days in my history. I think Mercury is in retrograde or some crap like that. Just not a fun adventure, which is to be expected from time to time I think. Seemed pretty odd though that it all happens at one time. I woke up that day to a screaming kid at 1:30am, then again at 3:30am for morning prayers, then again when the kid woke up at 6:30am. So I went down for breakfast at 7:30, and proceeded to WACK my head on the doorway, (sucks to be tall at times). At that one moment in time I actually uttered the words out loud- that is not a good omen-, and I was right. It took three hours and two different Internet cafes to upload one image and blog entry! Now I hate self-fulfilling prophecies, and try not to buy into them, but this is extreme. The whole day just kept saying- it will be a bad day, stay at the air conditioned hotel, go in two days!- But there are times I just have to plow ahead and learn from the experience...and if I really don’t have to go, then I have learned not to go. Trust your instincts and follow them if you can, if not do your best.

So the bus was late, but that happens. It was also packed, which was a surprise to me when several people mentioned how quiet and remote Van was. The first omen was the cracked windscreen...that grew and grew as the trip went on.

Next was the attendant that removed his tie and shirt as soon as we left the station. The amazing service and assistance you receive on busses only happens from major city to major city. The bus from Konya to Van...yeah, one cup of tea.....uhhhh..thats it! He removed his shirt because the AC would only work once in a while, and was turned off when there was a hill. So a 14-hour bus ride with 28 Turkish men would prove to be interesting I thought. But hey, that’s the joys and price for international travel.

Anyone that has traveled anywhere outside the US, especially to Italy and Mexico know how frightening the drivers can be. Turkey is no exception to this rule. Several times in my journeys I have felt like -this is the point where I die in a STUPID taxi/truck/bus accident-. They do go fast, they do like to pass everyone, but they also like to just drive on the left side of the road...at night...when the freight trucks can travel the easiest and fastest. This coupled with very narrow, very old, and very rough secondary roads provide great material for -Worst Bus Crashes- videos back in the States. Well, lets just say that from now on, I will be listening to my instincts.

The freight trucks generally travel average speed, but in very long caravans like in Australia. It sort of looked like Mad Max with 10-20 trucks with a dozen lights on each winding around the hill side and crosscut passes. Buses seem to hate these because they go slower than us...and we were already late for our other pickups. So a few blasts of the horn and we would pick our way forward. Keep in mind that there is a line of trucks in front of us as well, coming AT spatial navigation, and us, so timing is very critical in this game. I’ve driven a couple of racecars and a few sports cars in my days, and I know this is a higher brain function. Now, I’m not exactly sure what or how it happened since I had a very bad seat in the middle of the bus and it was late at night, but all I know is that we were performing one of our many passing maneuvers and, well, law of averages would have it..we clipped an oncoming truck and put him into the ditch alongside the road. He was carrying rebar. There is a careful ballet that they perform when they drive, flashing of lights to signify passing, move over, slow down, go faster, fuck you..etc. There is also the famous tooting of the horn for the same purpose. After 3-5 hours of this maneuvering and horns and flashing lights I think I actually grew accustomed to it..sort of like mortar fire. He hit the horn and lights, but I think we had no room to swing back over, so the oncoming truck had no choice and no shoulder to ride into. His load shifted and down he went. He was injured; some of the rebar came through his rear window. After an hour or so, the cops and the Gendarme worked everything out and we were sent on our way..again this felt like everyday events. So the men were all chattering and tsking like women. I just wanted to throw up.

Now at 2:00am we are heading towards Siva’s. We have made no stops, no food, no drinks, and the occasional blast of AC to cool things off. Again, not sure how it happened, but I am sure why... we ran out of gas. Yeah...gas...ran out....empty..no fumes..no reserve....yeah..in the middle of nowhere...don’t even mention cell service. So, an hour and half later, a policeman took one of the THREE drivers to a gas station and we got 5 liters of gas. This act of running out of gas is a quintessential male function, we have all done it once or three times...so I can almost understand...almost. Now the story could have ended there, we fill up, head to a gas station fill up etc etc. No. We had to continue to be, well, MEN! The driver forgot to get a funnel. You kind of have to have one. So another 30 minutes and 3 drivers later, they figured out how to cut a 2 liter coke bottle into a funnel, filled most of it and decided to wear the rest of it. They got the bus cranked up and off we go! An hour later, and around 10 gas stations later, we ran out.... again. Why didn’t he stop? Because we were already late for our next pick up, and he thought we could hold out, and he was a MAN! Just cant admit defeat can we. So, needless to say, we did stop finally and got gas, and we all ate and stretched, and we made the rest of our normal stops, with a little more AC.

The drive through the country itself was amazing and a great way to experience more of the rural aspects of Turkey. The landscape itself is remarkably similar to New Mexico around the Grants area and parts of Taos. Its desert like, but with more grasses and a few more trees randomly spread throughout the long sloping hillsides. Most of Turkey is volcanically formed and not the best to grow things in. Turkey seems to have one big advantage of large aquifers that they can pump and irrigate from. There were spots on the way to D?vr?? that looked like the lava fields around Acama Pueblo; very rocky and very rugged, yet they would clear as much as they could and farm it as pastures for their goats. Let me tell you, as a goat lover, you can definitely get your fix on goats out here!

We went south through the mountain and river passes into Elaz?? down to D?yarbak?r. Again with features and landmasses like the Taos gorge and the drive up along the Rio Grande in New México, the drive was amazing to watch. They get snow in the winter and heavy rains in the spring, making a lot of the roads just dirt washboards. The good news if I come back for the same trip in 3 years they will have completed the construction on they were doing. I wash I had a better seat to photograph from, even if it was just bleak canyons and rock walls. The rest of the trip was around D?yarbak?r and up to A?r? and then down to Lake Van. It was probably the most circuitous way to have gone to Van, as well as one of the most grueling and unnerving, but there were beautiful aspects as well. Tons of Sheppard’s and goats feeding on the countryside, the amazing canyon and pine tree hills in the river passes, and the drive around lake Van. Lake Van is outstanding, and sort of plain. There were no boats on it; there are no real beach or lake front resorts or houses, no docks and very little lakeside life. Its not really a lake, but more an an alkaline inland sea with the best cobalt and turquoise colored water. You would see from time to time naked kids running in and out of the water, with their fully over coated and scarved mothers and sisters watching them. There looked like places where villagers would take horse drawn cartloads of sheered wool to be washed at the lakeside.

We finally arrived in Van around 5:00pm....nearly 24 hours after leaving Konya...it was to take 15 hours. All I could think of was taking a tax? to the hotel, taking a shower and laying down for a long air conditioned nap. I think I have sort of hit that point that my buddy Tim mentioned of fatigue and overload on long trips. I just needed to go easy. But not yet. I got into the city of Van, which is much more modern and metropolitan than I anticipated. Got to the hotel, and the tax? driver took off with my bag in his trunk. I know this has happened to a few of you, so I didn’t panic. I thought maybe, since he dropped me of across the street, he would loop around to drop off the heavy bag. Yeah.......no. SO I told the desk clerk, and he said it happens a lot, not to worry. Checked into the NON air-conditioned hotel. only the 4and 5 star have a/c, took a cold shower and laid on the hot bed listening to the amazingly LOUD sounds of remote little Van. I think I did sleep for a half hour. Decided I got myself into this mess, I better try and do what I can. Went to the front desk; no bag. Now the desk clerk is kind of young and speaks pretty okay English, but thankfully he does not know the word -asshole-. He stared to accuse me of forgetting the bag, being careless and lazy. I explained that I just wanted another tax? to go to the bus station to find the driver and get the bag..Im sure it was a misunderstanding..no accusations..just want my damn bag! The manager came out; the kid explains the situation, and the manager replies- you need to take a tax? back to the bus station and look for the driver and ask for your bag-, uhhh.....yeah..thats what I said. I swear, I know this shit happened to everyone, but this was getting extreme. So after I laugh, say a few choice words in Spanish,(just in case) and the manager gives me the hotel security guard to go to the Ottogar, where as soon as I walk over, 5 guys start yelling Hasims name..who just left. They have me sit down, I go through the mime routine of what happened..we all have a laugh, and Hasim shows... with the bag intact. I say thank you, and go back to the hotel-not sure what the hell happened, why, or what I did to deserve all of this...all I know is that I was treating myself to chocolate ice cream for dinner, and I did!

Today is a new day, and everyday always brings something amazing, I believe that. I received a letter today from a friend that I bumped into in Istanbul. He came to Van last week ahead of me, and climbed My Ararat! He made it back safe, and had a great time. The bad news he told me that kidnappings are on the upswing the past few weeks,(sorry mom). So today I am taking it easy, writing, looking at plane ticket changes and making sure that I am still registered with the Consulate here in Van. I may go back to Konya and explore an archeological site I heard about on my way out. It is being dug by the Germans and English in the countryside outside of Konya. Then again, I may just be a typical man, buckle down and come up with a new plan for Van. I would like to do a side story on the carpet makers in the villages around Van, as well as see Ararat. There are a lot of great photos to be made there! Or I may bail and go to Oregon...who knows!

Enough for now, more soon.

New images from Konya

Tuesday, July 26

Okay, so picked up the mood a bit after the last entry. Went to see my friends Fatih and Arif in the market next to Mevlana yesterday afternoon. Fatih has been teaching me about Turkish traditions and culture as well as the language, and I have been teaching him about our traditions and language. We are having a blast. His younger cousin, Ali, is studying English from Fatih and at school as well. He is one of the funniest kids I have met. He thinks my photography is amazing, so I have been teaching to use the camera. Lets just say he can hold the thing! Fatıh seems to be a very responsible older brother to everyone in his family, it’s interesting. He runs the kilim shop like a seasoned businessman, and always takes time to teach his brother or cousin about the carpets, people, business and language. He tells Alı to listen to what I tell him, that I am a much better teacher than his school prof. Can’t seem to escape this teaching thing! We had a fun afternoon making portraits and talking about girls. A few other shopkeepers came over for a while to sit and practice their English, even get a portrait made. Funny how I seem to be teaching more English than I am learning Turkish! I translated an application for one gentleman that is applying for a government grant to be a computer engineer through the E.U. Honestly, Turkish people are amazingly friendly. The one down side: they LOVE to talk, especially the carpet salesmen. Actually, in Konya, the only people that have talked to me are carpet salesmen...its kind of tiresome. Fatih sells as well, but is much more gentle about it. He feels these men are bad for business, as well as Turkey.

İ also met the mayor of Konya yesterday, a wicked cute old guy about 5 feet tall, Kurdish. He spoke English fairly well. He was eager to talk about current affairs and political positions of Konya/Turkey. He was very curious to know about how we handle our government and issues, even simple infrastructure. The economic stuff I went sailing off on, but we had a very interesting talk. The upside to all of these meetings and talks with all these people...lots of tea and snacks and Turkish coffee! They are VERY well known for their hospitality!

So some other travel advice for you all:

1) What the hell is with the letter İ,i,ı,I on this freaking keyboard!?!?!?.

2) Do NOT think that when someone talks to you in English that they are interested in just talking...they are trying to sell you a kilim or carpet...or they are trying to sell for their brother/uncle/father/friend/grandfather/cousin/brother in law/nephew.

3) No matter how much they say there is no obligation, trust me, there is.

4) If you find yourself somewhat trapped, tell them that you have already bought your carpets. They will ask what you paid; tell them you bought two big ones for 200.00 US dollars. They will say -is good price! - And leave you alone, for you are shrewd!

5) Do NOT let them get you into the shop! Once you are there and have a glass of tea, you’re sunk!

6) If you do get suckered into their shop, immediately feign that you are nauseous from the smoke and heat.

7) The best defense is to ignore them, or speak in Spanish, they hate that! People from Spain RARELY travel to Turkey, so they do not know that language yet. But let me tell you, they know all others!

8) If anyone offers you tea, accept it, and the second one as well, they like to think you like them and they are acceptable to you as well. Hell, I went all day a couple of times just accepting food and drink from people I met on the street.

9) No matter how tempting it is to photograph older women here, just don’t bother. You think you can get an ear full from the African American women in the south, man look out!

10) Looking Turkish men in the eye, good: looking Turkish women in the eye, BAD! Got one in trouble last night with her mother...man can they be strict!

I think that is all for now. I will be traveling to Van tonight, and arrive in the later morning. Lets hope there are no kids barfing this time; it’s a long bus ride!

More soon

New day ın Konya

Wish I could post new images, but unable today. Had an interesting day yesterday, went on a moped ride with a guy up to the countryside overlooking Konya. It was very hot and dusty, couldn’t see much, but it was good to get out of the city, get fresh air and be on a bike for a while. Konya has a number of sımılarıtıes to New México in landscape, so I like it here just fine!

I’m kind of left a little numb, and disheartened from all of the news I have been catching in local newspapers and conversations with local people about the attempted bombings in London and the attacks in Egypt. It has been difficult to attain info, thank god for Internet. The people here are very concerned and upset at the terrorists, and what it is doing to their country. Turks cannot attain a passport to the states due to terrorism; homeland security and patriot act enforce. They are struggling to become a member of the E.U., which will take a few more years, but will aid in their stability and economic growth. These attacks and growing fears among the other countries towards Muslim nations seems to be having a much greater affect FOR Osama, not in favor for Bush and not living in fear. Consuming does not seem to be a very good long-term solution to -not living in fear-, or worse ignorance. It seems to me that one of the facets to true freedom is the ability to move, to travel, to come and go as you please where you please. We removed the Berlin wall, and are now building walls in Israel. I can pose no solutions myself, but it angers me that these amazing, family oriented and very hard working people are not allowed one of our greatest freedoms, to travel.

It’s been interesting to see how well they function and live. They all have cell phones, most have computers, some internet access, families, small gardens, a TV, typical amenities. The thing I see the most need for is dentists, (man they love sweets!), and sustainable development programs that will protect and improve some of their farm lands and select out lying forests and natural resources, possibly water and refuse recycling and some solar power, then they are good to go. Their water is still pretty amazingly clean, I drink it, and I am sure the lesions will go away soon! They consume very little in comparison to the US. They ride bicycles everywhere and motor bikes. Bus travel is very well controlled and subsıdısed, and very well used. What I appreciate the most is their devout love for family. Granted, there are a number of issues with the position of women in this culture, or more importantly lack of position of power and responcıbılıty for women here. In regard to the men, however, they are very expressive, loving, giving and always hospitable. They seem to do everything, and love to work. The women simply, well, run the household. Some have jobs, go to school and work for their families. I have only seen ONE waitress, a few women working in cell phone stores, and one carpet saleslady. Not my idea of free and equal society, but that is changing.

They seem to want to become a little more modern, but hey still seem to be fairly happy and very functional with buying fresh fruits and vegetables off of horse drawn carts in town, their meat from a local butchers, and their bread from hundreds of bakeries in town. There are a couple of super markets, but only two, maybe three at most. Everything else they need they get in the Bazaars, like they do in México. Let me tell you, I would take a bazarre over Wal-mart any day! They are amazing and more entertainment than TV anyway.

I guess maybe the American dream isn’t all its cracked up to be. There are pitfalls and large difficulties to living this way as well...so maybe there is a way we can learn from each other, incorporate some of the benefits from each of our cultures. Maybe a joint Amerı-Euro Dream. As long as it incorporates a siesta and some of these great bazarres I am a happy man!

Okay, enough soap box for thıs city. Today I photograph Fatıh and his younger brother Mehment at their small carpet shop next to the Mevlana Mosque. Fatıh is my age and speaks perfect English, Italian and some German, and is learning French. We met about a half hour after I got into Konya and was trying to write out ın front of the Mosque. He is a very well read guy, and a pretty good philosopher. We have been hanıng out and exploring together with Mehemet and talking about travel, religion, commerce and family. He is a pretty responsible guy, and loves his kid brother very much. He has become a good friend and taught me a lot about Turkey and the different cultures here. So the next entry should have an image or two of them.

More soon, leaving for Van along the southern route Tuesday night.

Alan

Fınally from Konya!!!

AGHHHHHHH! Finally able to sıt down and actually create an entry on the blog. I have to apologıze for the typing which maybe pretty hard to read at times due to the international keyboard ıssue..whıch means there are and are not certain letters, or letters are switched...which is a BLAST!

So...what’s up? Well, the best and smartest thing I can do as go backwards, and from there you can piece things together. First, I am fine and very healthy and very happy, if not a little tired and a little leaner than when I left. I have no idea what today as, Friday or Saturday or what...and I like that! There have been a few glitches and the international travel, getting around, local attitudes and getting bumped my mopeds and cars, but hell you get more than that and NYC. So all in all, I am just fine...now for the good stuff!

I’m an Konya, which is in the South Western part of the country, near a very New Mexico looking place of Cappıdocıa. Konya has no real draw other than the setting of the mystic teacher, Mevlanı Rumı, the founder of the Sufi Mystics and the Whirling Dervishes, who are on vacation right now. Konya is pretty generic all in all, just thousands of concrete buildings and storefronts and crıss-crossed streets, some cobble stone, some just dirt. Its not at all a tourist destination other than Mevlanı and the Dervishes in December, so its actually easy going here with no tourists...other than me.....which leads me to...

TRAVEL TIPS:
1) Don’t think that if your 6 feet, blue eyed and walking around with a huge camera and a bright orange backpack that you don’t stand out. YOU DO!

2) Even though its a world easer to walk in the middle of the street...DONT!

3) No matter how much time you think you have to make a shot from the center of a street, you really have 2 seconds till the next rıckshaw/bus/bıke/moped/horse cart/kid comes barreling out of NO WHERE and clobbers you. (I looked I swear!)

4) If the hotel boasts having a view of the Mosque in town, that’s a BAD thing. Call to prayers happen at around 3am, right when you really want to be asleep.

5) Speaking of hotels...being close to it all and being cheap means no AC, a room right on the main street into the center of the city, honking clanging and yelling people ALL NIGHT and all the heat you can handle. Sweet!

6) Do NOT drink pickle juice. don’t ask

7) Do NOT eat sheep’s head. Again, don’t ask

8) Just because you cant speak the language does not mean that sign language also does not work, cause baby it does!

9) People in Turkey like to do two things, A LOT: honk horns and smoke...both not real good for long term health.

10) Leave any and ALL preconceived notions behind except one...you never know how amazing your day maybe!

So now for the amazing stuff!!


Yesterday, 7/22:

I went back to the Grand Bizarre in the center of town to photograph and spend a little more time with my new friends Musa, Işmaıl, and Mevlüt. They are makers of these cool portable bar-b-ques, hand made. Musa was working on one two days ago as I was working in the bizarre, and he allowed me to stop to photograph him. What shocked me the most was how mush he resembled my Uncle Kevin when he was younger. Probably even more shocking is the fact that he has lost most of his fingers on has right hand, yet he can still work as thought they are there! So I stayed for a few hours and we spoke about everything from building, to America and the War and relıgıon..but mainly we shared about food, travel, fishing and his family. Oh, and we laughed, A LOT! They were the greatest people I have met, making me cups of Caı-tea, and ayran which is a yogurt drink, and then yesterday Mevlüt made this HUGE casserole with 30 eggs and lamb, tomatoes, peppers and onions, with paprika and oregano on top over this crude gas tank with a burner. We ate at a table in the deep recess of his aluminum shop in front of his office with the only single fluorescent light in the shop, other than the dim light that traveled back from the front of the shop. It was like a diesel mechanics shop, oily and dark with centuries of dust and dirt. We ate at a newspaper covered table, all 12 of us, with a huge chunk of bread to break off and dip and scoop up the egg casserole. They gave me a fork, but I threw it behind me and used my hands like they did...everyone laughed and patted me on the back. It was an amazing feast with all of these men, young and old and dirty and really not smelling good, but the food was amazing! They asked all sorts of questions about my family and my home and what I do, and if I was marrıed..a large topic these days with many of my friends..

Musas grand uncle seemed to be impressed and kept a-calling me a -good man- in Turkish, so he decided to take me to Mosque for afternoon prayers after lunch. Now, this will be explained more later on, but for some reason, either past life or something, but the Call to Prayers seems to affect me. The night before I heard them from on top of a roof over looking the Mevlanı Mosque, watching the blood red full moon rise off to the East. It actually brought tears to me eyes and chills up my spine, and do even now. I thought how amazing it would be to be able to sit and watch it happen; to see them first hand inside the Mosque, bowing and touching the floor with their heads, sitting on their feet, chanting and answering the Imam, how amazing would that be!?!?
Yesterday, I received that wish. He led me to the Mosque and showed me how to wash my hands under the brass water faucets that lined the marble troughs outside the Mosque. I had to wash my hands, and feet, being sure to scrub in-between my toes,(the guy next to me and I were having a competition as to who had cleaner toes) and then my face. Now I was pure and clean enough to be seen in front of Allah. He passed me a pair of flip-flops, being sure not to touch them with my hands and then we walked into the Mosque, barefoot. It was cold on the marble, but the air was very hot and still. We walked upstairs to the balcony so I could see the Imam and the congregation below and see how they did the prayers. There were also less people up there to annoy I think, but that soon changed. He showed me how to sit, and how to move. Soon, a large group of men came up and sat right next to me, and I do mean next to me. This culture fosters very close and dear contact with men, nothing weird or sexual, just close and honest. The man smiled and I think he understood this Anglo was here to learn, and meant no disrespect. Soon the prayers began, and we stood and bowed a lot, touched the floor with our heads and knelt as we listened to the Imam. It was about the most incredible religious experience I have ever seen, aside from a Hindu cremation ceremony. I still get goose bumps as I think about the Imam singing the Koran, and the Mosque reverberated as the group replied. I think most of you know I am not a religious person, but a bit of a spiritual person. I think if at times we could all just see the rituals and the functions we all perform to pay respect and honor to our loved ones, the ones that gave us life, and maybe that one big creator out there somewhere, possibly, maybe we could understand US a little better, not God. I witnessed the same love of humans and of a great entity that I have seen with Hindus, Muslims, Catholics, Protestants, and Jews.... it really is all the same. I know you all know that, but to sit within it anchors it a little firmer.

After prayers were over, we went back to Musa,s shop and had Caı, and then I made images! I finally pulled out the 4x5, and let me tell you, I am WAY out of practice. I had done a few new images before leaving the states to practice, but ı had forgotten how hard it is to photograph people! Musa and his family and friends were amazed at the camera, they all became very excited to see it and how it worked, more so than the digital camera! Musa helped a lot, he seemed to sense my dilemmas with shooting with it, and made a table for me to set the camera to hold still and set the film back and the film on. He even knew that when I was to make the image, to tell him and he would hold perfectly still and looked into the lens. After the first couple, EVRYONE became very excited and wanted me to photograph Musa more, and his little brother Işmaıl. We laughed and make pictures for hours, drank more caı and vışhnı, and ate sweets and told more fishing stories. We had an amazing day all of us, laughing, using bizarre sign language and broken Turkish and English, feasting and praying together. I left late and promised Musa to send the images on a CD once I got to the States. He had a small tear in his eye, as did I when I left. I am a part of their family now. He touched his hand on his heart, as I always did, to show respect and acceptance as well as admiration, we shook hands firmly and I walked away with everyone standing and shaking my hands and thanking me for spending time with them...thanking me for spending time with them.... odd.

The following are the best images from the 4x5 camera that I copied with the 35mm digital, they are rough, but I hope they work. Oh, I usually shoot in a format that I cannot upload from here, so I switched and made a few images so you can see some of what I see everyday. So enjoy, and please post any comment you would like to share with me and our friends, and please pass this onto your own friends and everyone we know: I wish you could all be here and I cant reach all of you, so I rely on you to spread the news with me!

More soon........possibly from Van!

Images from Africa for Live 8-SPEAK UP TO FIGHT POVERTY!!

These are some images from a trip two years ago to Maputo and Namaacha in Mozambique Africa.
The trip was to pay respects to a man that fought and lost his life while working to end poverty in third world countries.
Join his fight and help raise awareness and create government and grassroots programs to combat world hunger,
aids and human rights. The G8 Summit is just one avenue and marker to look up to.
Become involved with your local communities, growers and farms and learn what it means to be a part of your
own societies sustainable development and growth.

I respectfully post these images as a way to show how others live everyday in various parts of the world.
The trip taught me a lot about humanity, life in the 'real world', surviving, thriving, love, and even what
it can mean to want to be a man, or admit to being just a boy.




















live8 summit

live8 phili

Other random images......

The following are some other fine art and random images from around my travels, or even simple quiet times at home. It's amazing how you can find imagery anywhere you go these days. The joy, as always, is sharing it with others. I hope you enjoy and can share with others as well.