The Bizarreness Continues

It's been a long time since I've written.

Today I'm inspired.

Jena and I returned to school this afternoon to an onslaught of "Hayır olsun's" and "Güle güle kullanın's" from our coworkers. The phrases more or less mean "Congratulations" and "Use it well," though the second one has a literal translation of "Use it while laughing."

While we were gone from work for the afternoon, it seems, the news had spread that we had gone off to buy a car.

My officemate Salim said to me, "That was fast. You just started talking about getting a car two days ago." I agreed. I told him that Jena and I were having trouble following through with our plans. First, we wanted a new apartment, and although we looked at one at one point, we didn't like it and gave up our search soon thereafter. Our next half developed plan was to find out whether we could rent a car every other weekend for six months for a good price. After looking into that, we realized it wasn't particularly cost effective. Our most recent plan to spice up our rather dull lives--a dullness that set in quickly after we returned from a refreshing trip to Germany during our week off--was to buy a bunny. Technically we aren't allowed to have dogs and cats in our apartment, but we thought we could get away with a rodent. We debated this idea for at least a week, and even though we couldn't come up with a good exit plan for the bunny when we move, we still thought it would be a good idea. We made a list of things that we would need--a pen, a bunny rug, a litter box, hay, leafy vegetables. We sat there on the couch, waiting for one of us to make the first move to take the bus downtown to the pet shop. We stared at the list again. We decided, actually, maybe it wasn't a great idea.

A day after we had gone an a great day hike and to lunch with some friends, we decided that buying a car might be the way to go. While Jena was doing the dishes, I pointed out that we hadn't followed through with any of our life-improvement plans thus far. I suggested, "We need to be more strategic."

Jena said, "What does that mean?"

"We need to have concrete steps to follow and a deadline. I'm thinking the end of February. By the end of February we should have a car."

That was three days ago. Now we have a car.

If there's something Jena and I are good at, it's working ahead on projects that motivate us. You should have seen how early we completed assignments in graduate school.


Our car is dark red. It is a Hyundai, which I always considered a poor man's Honda. I think I developed this notion because we always had Honda's growing up, and the prices of Hyundais advertised on television were relatively low. In any case, I'm happy it's a Korean car because of it's potential longevity.

The thing about a car here in Turkey is that it's like driving a chunk of very, very slowly depreciating gold. We put a lot of money into it because used cars here aren't cheap they way they are in the US. But everyone you ask says that you can expect to sell it for nearly the same price that you bought it for. Some people say you might be able to get more. This sounds good, but it also makes me paranoid because my money has been converted into a big metal shape that could easily get smacked around in an accident. Banks are more secure parking lots. But in the end, I guess you have to live a little sometimes and take a risk.

I plan to go hiking this weekend. I don't care where we go, whether it's to Cappadocia or to one of the canyons around Talas. I'm just psyched to be able to get into a vehicle and get out past these apartment buildings quickly and efficiently, instead of doing it laboriously with a 45 minute walk.

My dad used to drive to trailheads to go running. On some level I never understood that. Why not run to the trailhead to get more exercise? As a runner, I know now how it feels to be wasting away on sidewalks and at intersections when the only place you want to be is in the mountains. Running is more than the sum of the exercise that you put in. It's a peaceful feeling of being alone in a setting that you enjoy.

The year of our new car is 2007. Jena pointed out that it's significantly newer than either of the cars that we had back in America. Mine a 1998 and her's a 2000. 2007. Was it a good year for cars?


In 2007, I drove my mom's white minivan back to college during the middle of our winter break. I drove through a snowstorm. When I got to my house in Colorado, I got snowed in and only braved the road once to pick up a friend at the airport. He bought me dinner and suggested that I get out of the house more.

During the second half of my senior year of college (2007), I used the car to drive to Classic literature readings at a professor's house. I drove to concerts in Denver. I eventually packed up everything and set up a bed in the back. My plan was to drive back home to Utah overnight. I would pull to the side of the road and sleep in the back when I got tired. I never got tired. (Well, actually, I did, but I didn't stop driving.)

Toward the end of senior year, when all of us were talking in uncertain tones about their future plans, I decided to throw my plan to move to Denver into the wind. I would live in my minivan instead. I dropped my things at home, worked for a month, and on the Fourth of July, I took off on a road trip that involved touring through the West, eating canned vegetables straight from the can (my vegetable-hating father donated these foodstuffs to my cause), staying overnight at rest areas where I could find free electricity for my computer and free light to read by, and a visit to a sparsely attended family reunion Nantucket where I wondered what the hell I was doing and why I had left my only means of escape, my car, on the mainland, twenty-five miles away.

It was during this time that I spoke to a friend and decided to move to Portland, Oregon as soon as possible.

Then, before the year ended, I decided to move from Portland, down to the sunnier climes of Arizona. I met up with my parents in Utah, and I happily volunteered to transport our family dog Walter to Arizona where he and I would live together in Flagstaff.

While driving through the winter barrenness of Utah, an hour or two or three south of Provo, I looked into the sky and saw a metallic object. I fixed my eyes on it as I drove. It remained stationary in the sky. Slowing from 75 miles per hour, I pulled over on the highway and stopped. I pushed past Walter who was copiloting my minivan, and when I looked into the sky again the object was gone.

I almost swore it was a UFO. Then I called my father. He said that it wasn't unusual for the military to potentially fly experimental aircraft over that part of the country. And besides, B2s can do crazy things like like practically hover in the sky. My UFO became a possible IFO. Not nearly as interesting.


So yes, 2007 was a good year for cars. It was a good year for my minivan, anyway. My minivan kept running until 2014 when I sold for 800 dollars to a solid guy in Flagstaff who promised that he'd try to keep it running until it reached three hundred thousand miles. Now that's a car. (It needed about twelve hundred dollars of repairs, but I think they guy actually did them.)

All of this has very little bearing, I realize, on my new car, but we will take it on new adventures. Our adventures may not be as reckless as running around the US from coast to coast while sleeping in the back (I want to keep my money in better shape than that). But I'll be happy if once in a while the car gets us out into the world where we can feel that 1950s sense of freedom, empowerment, and wind-blowing-in-your-hair mobility.

My Newest Song

I'm proud to present the song that I made for Jena for Christmas. Of all the songs I've made recently, I've spent the most time on this one, and I think it's the best one yet. There are musical references to Explosions in the Sky as they are one of my main sources of inspiration for this type of music along with El Ten Eleven, the new Pink Floyd album, Godspeed You Black Emperor, and Tokyo by the Books.

You can listen to the song here.

More Music

For Christmas, I made my family some songs. I want to share them here as well.
Song 1
Song 2
Song 3

Happy New Year

Hmm. It seems my last post detailed a trip to Cappadocia. This one will as well. In the words of Justyna, "I think this one was one of my favorite New Years celebration."

After three days of intense brainstorming about how to celebrate on New Year's Eve here in Kayseri, a place where there's not a whole lot going on to celebrate the beginning of the New Year, we finally decided to go to Ürgüp, a city in Cappadocia.

Right after work, five of us packed into a car--Paul, Cece, Justyna, Jena, and I--and headed to Cappadocia. In two other cars, a six other friends from work came along as well.

We cruised out to Ürgüp, which is more charming than Göreme in my opinion. There's a main square, and although it's very touristy, the buildings around the square create more of a small town feel than the small splatter of civilization that is Göreme. (This opinion was not shared by all of us, though. In truth, both Göreme and Ürgüp have their appealing attributes.)

We got a hotel for a reasonable price. It was half-cave, half-brick. The rooms had these pretty arched ceilings, and each room had a nice sitting area where we shared a few beers before heading out to find a place to eat.

Because our group was rather large, it was difficult to find a place that appeased everyone, but when we did, we had a nice Turkish dinner. A few people ordered Testi Kebab, which despite the hilarious name is an interesting dish. They bake meat and veggies inside a sealed clay pot. When it's served, it's brought to your table, and the pot is broken open with a knife.

With filled bellies, next we went looking for a place to ring in the New Year. Some of the members of the group were looking for a club-atmosphere. I was not among the people interested in this setting. As it turned out, I guess they gave up their hopes, and we wandered back to one of our hotels where half the group was staying. In the parking lot, we shared some beers and I danced to keep warm while we counted down the end of 2014.

As anti-climatic as it was, I found it splendid. From where we were were--up on a hill--we watched fireworks explode, and we saw candle lanterns float up into the sky. I tried to run after one after it burned out and fell, but it landed on the roof of a nearby mosque.

I might add here that I am not a huge fan of quick getaway trips with large groups of people because the task of making little decisions about what to eat and what to do involves a lot of negotiation to take everyone's interests into account. Fortuitously, when Paul and I surveyed everyone to see who was interested in night hiking, only five out of the eleven were. Two of those who weren't headed back to Kayseri; four others went to their hotel rooms. This left Paul, Justyna, Jackie, Salem and I to head to my favorite part of Cappadocia (close to Göreme) where there is a 1-2 km tunnel carved into the trough of a valley. This time our goal was to explore the entirety of the tunnel.

After a ten-minute drive, the five of us stormed into the valley and down into the tunnel, at times ducking below the shrinking ceiling and at other times reaching out to the narrow walls to keep our balance through the twists and turns. Throughout the tunnel there are sky-lights so at times we looked up to see the moon-lit sky. Salem had brought a tiny portable speaker into which he plugged a flashdrive. With this he was able to play old American blues songs. As strange as it sounds, I think the music kept everyone calmer during the more harrowing portions of the hike. After the 1-2 km of tunnel, the trail dumped us into a slot canyon where the walls reached heights of 100 feet. Scattered across the walls were entrances to carved-out rooms. While leading the group, I rushed ahead at one point and found myself at the edge of a ten-foot drop. Initially, I thought this would be the end of the hike, but there was a wooden ladder nailed into the rock. It was the first of two similar drops.

The slot canyon finally widened, and we looked up to the rock formations on the ridge where there were windows in the stone. The pale black of the moon-lit sky shone through them. We clambered toward the formations and to the road to begin the long walk to the top of the canyon to return to the car.

The thing I absolutely love about night hiking is that the darkness adds a simple layer of excitement to what would normally be a standard hike. Everything black spot of the landscape is a bit more frightening, and the ground is just a bit more uneven.

Four of us took the road back to the car, but Paul climbed along the ridge. While I wanted dearly to join him, I felt of pang of responsibility for the other three. I knew the area best as I was the only one who had been there during the day, and based on my friends' reactions to the difficult parts of the tunnel, I'm not sure they were ready to follow Paul and me on the narrow, ledge-laden trails simply in order to get back to the car.

Once we were back at the top, in the car, and safely on our way home, we decided to stop off for a night cap at the Ramada. The bar was still open at 2:30 in the morning--it never closes, they said--so most of us had a drink and relaxed before completing the journey back to the hotel.

The next day, the first of the new year, we had breakfast and explored Ürgüp. Our group diminished to the original five who had ridden in the car together, and we set out to explore Red/Rose Valley. It had the familiar feel of Southern Utah and Sedona, Arizona. We explored valleys and climbed fairy chimneys until a rainstorm set and we headed back to the car. We took back roads as we returned to Kayseri, enjoying the hilly pastoral landscape of the heartland of Turkey.

In the end I, for one, thought this was an excellent way to celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of the next. It was both adventurous and relaxing, and we spent it with people whose company we really enjoy. Similarly to our last trip, we arrived home and looked at the clock, realizing we had only been away for twenty-four hours. Still in that amount of time we packed in most of the great things that Cappadocia has to offer.

Cappadocia Round Four

Six-thirty on a Saturday night. Jena and I had had a glass of wine. Then, thanks to a last minute idea and a phone call, we were in a car, headed to Cappadocia. The idea was to get a couple rooms, watch the meteor shower, and do some hiking the next day. The sky was clear and we could see Orion as we drove.

Other motives for the trip included the possibility of going out for Indian food and going out for some beers at a bar.

We easily found a hotel in the center of Goreme. Since it was the off-season (and possibly because it was nine o'clock at night) our cave rooms were 30-35 dollars. Cave rooms are those which are carved into the rock. Based on our previous experience in a cave hotel, I expected our rooms to be warm, but they were cold. Fortunately, Jena found the hotel cat to help heat our room up.

After Paul (of Paul and Cece, our couple friends and coworkers) took a few photos of the sky, we headed out to find the Indian restaurant.

Upon finding that the restaurant was closed, we had some Gözleme for dinner in a hole-in-the-wall place. Gözleme is a lot like eating a stuffed crepe, though the Turks like to call it a Turkish Pancake. While we waited for our food Jena and Cece left to look at rugs in another store, so when their food arrived before ours, we ate a few pieces of their Gözleme and replaced the pieces with food from our own meals before they returned.

After dinner, we brushed our teeth and headed out to a bar with a dance floor. It was on the second story of a building, and although it was incredibly loud, the overall feeling of the place was a major improvement over the only other bar in town, which we had visited on an earlier trip.

The beer in Turkey is bad. When we entered the bar, we asked them whether they had Bomonti. Unfiltered Bomonti is akin to a light hefeweizen, and it is easily the best beer available in the country, though it's like a bad Blue Moon. We were told it was available when we entered, but when it came to ordering, they said they only had Efes. It was like hearing the bar was out of everything except Keystone Light.

After our beer, which was 7 dollars per small bottle (they have large and small bottles here), we hit up the other bar for a game of Scattergories.

The other bar was more economical, as we knew it would be. This being my second time there, I can say it's an interesting place with pretty bad service and a horrible atmosphere. It's kind of like a dive bar in a run-down strip mall, and the interior has a bunch of bench tables like, as Jena put it, a crappy Pizza Hut. In it's own way it's kind of a fun place to be.

Feeling warm we headed out into the night to retrieve the car. We hoped to find a place just outside of town where it was dark enough to take pictures of the stars. Unfortunately, clouds had crept across the sky while we were at the bar, so those plans were foiled. Instead, we drove a little ways out of town to go on a couple night hikes. It was about one forty-five a.m.

First we explored a road that seemed to end at a field with white rectangular shapes sticking up at evenly spaced intervals. The light sensor and flash from my camera was my only source of light, so I announced that it was a graveyard. Upon further inspection, however, the shapes were merely sun-shades constructed for tomato or pepper plants.

We then hiked down into a valley that Jena and I had explored before. I led our group to a three-kilometer-long tunnel that dips into the earth for sections of one hundred feet or so at a time. Paul with his headlamp lead the way, and Jena and Cece stayed behind. We didn't go too far for fear that the girls would get cold waiting for us, so we soon headed back. At that point, we decided to call it a night.

After our breakfast the next morning, Paul and I went hiking while Jena and Cece did some shopping. On my way up a steep face, I lost my footing and slid down face first for about ten feet. I felt like Indiana Jones, and I had my wits about me to pull my hands up from the rock so that the forearm of my sleeves took most of the scraping, though I came away with a bloody wrist, elbow, and hip.

Later that day we headed to a new valley to explore, and we found old carved out dwellings that had multiple rooms, a stone door, and two long tunnels leading into and out of a chapel.

After working up an appetite, we headed back to town to try the Indian restaurant again. Finding that it was still closed, we settled for a Turkish lunch of manti (similar to ravioli), durum (similar to a chicken wrap/burrito), kofte (similar to meatballs), ayran (similar to yogurt and saltwater), and French Fries (which are very popular here).

As the day ended, we were back in the car and made it back to Kayseri at about five o'clock. The whole trip had taken less than twenty-four hours.


I can easily say that this was the best outing I've been on here in Turkey. It included good food, good friends (including the dogs and cat we befriended), a little drinking, a little riskiness (night hiking/tunnel exploration), and a little pain (sliding down the rock). I feel incredibly grateful that we have friends here that are willing to explore with us, and I'm lucky that our playground, Cappadocia, is so close by.

We hope to have more adventures in Cappadocia as the winter continues, and I can assure anyone who might visit us that they will be whisked off to help us explore this barren and beautiful landscape.

December Walk

Yesterday was a Saturday in December. I’ve been in Turkey for about five and a half months.

In the afternoon, I was studying Turkish while lying face down on the living room floor. Then I decided to go for a walk.

Ever since some cursory explorations, I wanted to explore further the ruins in the hillside of Old Talas. Old Talas dates back to 1500 BC according to the short, undisputed article about the town on Wikipedia.

I packed up a backpack and headed out on foot to the old city.

The day began with few clouds in sight, but by the time it was afternoon, it was overcast.

The monstrosities that are the apartment buildings still irk me, though now I don’t find them as strange as I once did. I told a friend recently that apartment living reminded me of a lot of little science experiments packed into boxes.

I had forgotten how far the hills behind Old Talas are from my apartment. After I’d been walking for fifteen minutes or so, I approached the Jandarma, which is a small army base that offers a respite of open fields to break up the urban sprawl.

 

Past the Jandarma, I found a pathway that went up the hillside among crumbling stone archways. Here, some young Turks walked together, stopping to take selfies and group photographs. Some people were also using the path to carry groceries from the valley floor to their houses at the top of the ridge. My favorite was an older woman using a cane and carrying her groceries as she went off-trail up the steep hillside.

Partially up the hillside is a mosque that was once a Greek Orthodox church (not the one pictured). The collection of history here, makes you feel as if every step you take has been taken before.

At the top of the hillside, I explored a room carved into the rock. The sandy floor was covered in animal paw prints, although the scattered trash suggested that humans commonly came there as well. I went as deep as I could without light, and eventually used my cellphone to light up the final room, which was strikingly large and cavernous.

The days here end at about four thirty, so I began the trek home as a light rain began to fall. At home Jena asked how the walk went, and as we began to relax into our Saturday night, we received a phone call from our friends. They suggested we go to Cappadocia to watch a meteor shower and to stay the night. In the morning, we would hike one of the valleys. We quickly packed, ready for exploration at another ancient site.

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This new tune was inspired by Ken's encouragement. Listen to it here: HERE.