Re-thinking

Photos: 3 pillars with volcano in background, Adrienne in potato cave, making shakshuka

Oct. 22, 2022- Chat & a day in the Life: You know what was missing from my email yesterday? Me. My reaction to the caves of Cappadocia. I’ve wanted to see them as soon as I knew they existed. I knew the basic history and was awed by the drone videos of the landscape. In person, the caves were meh. The exterior was spectacular. It was the reason d’etre that stuck in my craw. So monastic Christians were drven to shelter for safety in this Goreme (hidden place). Where did the memories of this suffering on the part of the former minority go? How could they forget their terror and efforts just to survive? Where was their “Rachmanis,” empathy, for the oppressed who followed? How could they become the oppressors? And then there’s Tom whose definitiaon of Christian is limited to those who have accepted Jesus as their savior within the paramters of his denomination’s definition. To him, Catholics would not be Christians. Back to the present. Although charming, our cave-room is dimly lit. At night it is pitch black and, well, cave-like. Getting to the bathroom in the middle of the night is a game of blind man’s bluff. Last night I found the tub, heated towel rack, and shower doors before I could exit and find the bed. We do have a flashlight for such purposes. The batteries died. Not to fear, I packed extras. Problem: I have no idea where they are. Solution: this is pretty much a first world country. Rudy found AA batteries for me. The ballooinists returned in great spirits. They were rewarded with sunrise, perfect winds, and champagne for their early morning wake-up. We met at the dining room at breakfast time having been warned not to eat breakfast. As we sipped the best coffee we’ve had in Turkey (European machine made), we speculated as to what our farm breakfast would be. A Day in the Life is a feature of OAT (Overseas Adventure Travel) trips. Ours started with breakfast with a family who grew grapes and apples on a 12 acre orchard. The father is mayor of the town and works in local industry. Farming ancestral land is a supplement, not his sole income. We met the entire family including his daughter and her fiancée. When asked if the wedding would be at their home in town, we were told it would be at a hotel. We later saw photos of a local wedding, and let me tell you, the professional photo album and festivities are lavish. Mama cooked shakshuka over an open fire. But that was only the beginning. We feasted on homemade everything: honeycomb, bread, pancakes, cheeses, jams, olives. Bees were the uninvited guests. They came to supervise the honeycombs we used on our pancakes and taunt David. The perfect ending was when Rudy serenaded us on his baglama (Turkish stringed instrument) as we sipped tea overlooking yet more rock pinnacles and caves. The youngest daughter, Adrienne, is ten years old. Her English is serviceable and she is adorable. We all wanted to take her home. She wants to be a teacher or tour guide so Rudy enlisted her to ride in the co-pilot seat of the bus and direct us through her village. I’m pleased to report that this village had paved streets. We met her uncle, the diviner. He showed us his two copper divining rods that weren’t used exclusively for water detection. He was able to find hidden sunglasses and do other parlor tricks. I tried using them and failed since I don’t have the “gift.” My father used water witchers with willow rods on his orange grove, and I used one to help me find a well on a property I was selling. I believe. Adrienne directed us to her mosque. It’s modest, dates from 1725, and, of course, is built in a cave. Imams used to have discretion to preach freely, but since Erdogan, the government dictates the weekly topics. We saw the women’s center with full gym and a WESTERN TOILET. Guess what I didn’t know about until we left and I’d crippled myself on a squatter? The WESTERN TOILET. Onward to a bread making “bee,” much like our sewing bees, where women gather to make flatbread to store for the winter. They rolled some around feta, greens and potatoes and offered us samples. Just what we needed after breakfast and on our way to lunch. But our stop to sip apple tea with village men washed it all down. There’s always room for more. It was a surprise too learn that this area is an international potato producer. They can grow anything in this arid soil. To illustrate the scale of that industry, we visited an enormous, cavernous (yes, originally caves) storage warehouse. The natural underground temperature is perfect. Lunch was home hosted on the veranda of quite the modern place. We didn’t see the bedrooms but the main living area had a formal living room plus TV/family room and a modern kitchen. When offered the use of the Eastern “facilities” I opted to challenge my bladder. Travel is not for those with continence issues. Rudy played for us before our meal to give our stomachs time to recover. The food was okay, but dessert was a treat. It was halvah made with flour instead of chick peas. It’s more of a pasty consistency, but equally yummy. We chatted with our hostess and her neighbors about their daily lives and aspirations including regrets of early marriages and careers not pursued. Their daughters will have it differently. Now education for girls is important, marriage is later, and use of birth control is evident. Our agenda included watching a potter at his craft and visiting the shop for an opportunity to buy. We were sorely tempted, but the price of the enormous platter we wanted only dropped from $8,000 to $6,000 (including shipping). We were out of there. A photo op to see the 13,000 foot high snow capped volcano ended our day of touring. A very satisfactory one it was. Dinner was at a restaurant twenty minutes and many switchbacks away. It’s a good thing it was dark so we couldn’t see the ravines unblocked by guardrails. Lamb shanks were the main with ice cream and candied pumpkin and beet dessert. So much better than last night. We did let Rudy know so he could put it in his report. He files one with the regional OAT office every five days so they can make adjustments for future trips. I’m sure the saga of the safe is ongoing, but we’re not involved. Our valuables are still in the office safe and there they will stay until we leave Monday. Tomorrow we tour an underground city. Toby