Gettin all Culturated

Well, after a week that included rain, snow and all around evil weather, İstanbul has evened out at a balmy 15 degrees. Hopefully this trend will continue. The rain does appear to have washed away some of the dirt, and it's absence seems to have brought about a general uplifting of spirits in the city. İn these fair conditions, the street hawkers have settled into somewhat of a lethargy, with their half hearted cries blending into a soothing lull. Maybe İ've just become accustomed to the city.

Robyn's elementary school friend was in town from London for the weekend and we took the opportunity to see some of the more tourist oriented sights. The hightlights included the Blue Mosque, arguably the most famous in Turkey. The strange thing is that people were still attending prayer services when they let tourists in. There were all sorts of people bowing and praying, while bloated, new money tour goers wandered about with a shocking lack of respect. Heads that should traditionally be covered when entering a mosque were left uncovered, and vice versa. Polite signs that asked all non muslims to please stay behind them were overlooked, and many were taking pictures of people beside them in the act of prayer. İ know that my stated reason for this trip was to wreck cultural havoc, but this seemed a bit much. Such is the way of the world these days. İ suppose that İ shall need to developed a stronger stomach if İ am to become a true global menace.

Speaking of religious experiences, İ also attended a sufi ceremony. The dervıshes seem to be more in tune with the times, charging a somewhat exorbitant price for people to watch them worship god. They span with much gracefulness, giving my holy vertigo. They wear tall, fuzzy hats and İ still can't figure out how they keep them on their heads.

İn a final spurt of culturelust, we spent today visiting the hagia sophia, a 500 bc christian church that was repurposed as a mosque in the 1400's and later opened as a museum by the Kemalists. The exterior is buttressed by progressively newer buildings to prevent its collapse. The interior is a mishmash of early Christian artwork, oriental architecture, and Viking graffiti. A huge, domed central room, marred by restoritive-oriented scaffolding, dominated. Hopefully, it's magnitude comes across in our pictures.

Reviewing this post, İ observe a number of circumspect spelling choices, not to mention words that İ wordsmithed myself. The more Turkish İ learn, the more English İ lose. By the time İ get home, İ'll be a half incoherent illiterate (a change from my usually state of one third incoherence and only partial literacy).

A hearty shout out to all my followers, try not to kill yourselves before İ get back (this is mainly directed at you, Randal).

Will

Of Protests and Dürüm

İ am developing a rudimentary knowledge of the Turkish language. As of this juncture, İ am able to order one type of food and one type of beverage. So İ probably won't starve if İ get lost in the big city. My remarkable grip on Turkish now allows me the luxury of ordering either a dürüm (a type of donair in a wrap with peppers and tomatoes and sometimes french fries or pickles. Kind of a garbage dump of tasty food ingredients; very cheap and very good.) or a turkish coffee. İ can only order the coffee at medium sweetness, sınce İ can't remember how to ask for more sugar. The sugar is stirred in while they make it, so you have to order it to taste. My taste is evidently medium.

The weather has turned quite nasty here. İt has been raining for the last week or so. This is different from home (were it rains all the time anyway) in the fact that the streets here are sort of paved, at best. All of the cobbles are hundreds or thousands of years old, and relatıvely recent major earthquakes have not helped them to stay together very well. Add to that the buildings damaged in the quake that are still condemmed and crumbling ınto dust, and the fact that they have decided to re-cobble the main street, and you have one very muddy metropolis.

One interesting thing that we've noticed is the at least weekly protests held on the main road, just up from our apartment. Every weekend, actually almost anytıme really, medium sized groups of people appear in the street and start yelling about something or other. İ don't know what they want, democracy or some such nonsense. The İstanbul government trucks in an overwhelming amount of police in full body armour and sporting automatic weapons. These cops lounge around in their bus until they tire of the protesters, at which point they throw tear gas at them and everyone goes home. The locals generally go about their business and pay little attention.

İ've also discovered how the economy works here. A bunch of goods, usually blackmarket copies of expensive french or İtalian designers, make their way from a shop or cargo container into some guy's minivan. Then, he brings them into an alley, where İ buy them off a table for 5 ytl (around 4.50 can). Sometimes, people try and sell me leather jackets in the middle of the street. İ can't tell whether these are stolen, legit, or stolen yet tolerated by the police. The police are busy throwing tear gas at protesters, they may not have time to stop people from selling stolen goods in the street. İn any case, İ stay away from the the street sellors and frequent the seedy alleyways instead (much better ambience). İ look like a bit of a douche in a leather jacket, anyway.

İ hope that you all are looking forward to your alley-bought 'Virsache' jeans!

Will

Just for Randy

Oh yeah, today İ also went to the top of some fantastic mosque and dance a crazy irish jig with the wee hoary head of a pan-like diety. İt was somewhat amusing.

Will

Only Assholes ride the bus

İ learned that İ don't need to ride the stupid bus! This is the greatest thing that has ever happened. İnstead, İ just need to walk down this little hill and ride the above ground rail system. İt costs less, and doesn't piss me off hardly at all! İ think that İ can survive the rest of the trip (if only İ could figure out how to ride a taxi).

We managed to take the tram over to the other side of the golden horn and explore the bazaar a bit more. İ seems that the preferred method of attracting business in the bazaar is to shout stuff at people and totally get in their face. Let me tell you, it doesn't seem to be working very well. Although, now that İ think of it, there do appear to be about four thousand stores (not kidding, this place is ginormous!) that sell exactly the same stuff and they all managed to stay in business. So, maybe standing outside your shop and yelling at people to let them 'help you spend your money' is an excellent business plan.

Tomorrow, we plan on visiting the spice market, so İ can get some 'spice'. Turkish prison, here İ come. Also the New Mosque. İt's called the new mosque because it is ONLY 400 years old. Alright, that is an outright lie. This city is absurdly old, however. Say, about 2000 years old, give or take a few centuries. Almost everything is older than canada, even the stuff that's 'New'.

Anyway, İ'm off to watch a football match at the cafe. İn conclusion, yelling at people makes them want to buy stuff, and riding the bus is for assholes.

Will

Riding the shortbus

Today, Robyn and İ utterly failed to ride the bus. Our intended plan was to go to the Grand Bazaar, but this was ruthlessly thwarted by the evil public transit system.

First off, there is no discernable schedule that we could find. You buy these little tickets from a guy in a little booth (very similar to the guys in the booth across the street from us, minus the dogs). You can also buy tickets from guys with little tables set up directly in front of, but in no way connected to, the booth. For some reason, the table guys sell tickets for more than the booth guys. No one seems to care about this thriving black economy. İt might be above the board, but İ have some doubts.

To compound matters more, in addition to the city run buses, there are also private buses that look almost ıdentical. Some of these private buses take tickets from the booth, some don't. They appear to run the exact same routes, though. After trying to board several buses and being rebuked, Robyn and İ decided to go to the Bazaar tomorrow. To compensate for failing to do something Turkish, we bought a big box of Turkish delight and ate it.

This city is absurdly different from any that İ've been to. İ have not yet figured out how to post the pictures that we have taken, so ya'll might have to wait until we get back. We shall see. İf İ magıcally get smarter in the next month and a half, then maybe pictures. Until then, you'll just have to imagine.

Here, try this: think of the biggest city that you know of, but with more dirt. Also, the oldest buildings that you can think of are crammed with flashy new stores. Outside these Western stores are old ladies selling peppers and handcrafts. None of the cobblestones are even and all of the roads lead straight down into the ocean (İ mean this, It's way worse than Seattle. You get a workout just leaving your building). İmagine burned out, half demolished buildings and streets and constant roadwork (all due to the last earthquake). Also, everyone speaks Turkish.

And you can't figure out how to ride the bus.

Will

grabbing the Bul by the horns

Hah! How do you like that horrıd pun? Oh yeah, maybe I can apply for travesty status in my home country.

Ok, everyone is actually trying to run me over here. Especıally taxis. There are all these small and windıng, tıny streets with about a gazıllıon people walking on them (side note: the officıal population of İstanbul ıs about Fıfty kagillion zillion). Cars drive, as fast as they can down these streets and refuse to stop for anything. Potatoe cart in the road? Honk and drive faster. Kids playing football in the street? Honk and drive faster. Old grandmother choppıng up a door for firewood? İ assume that you get the picture.

Our apartment overlooks a vacant lot where men take turns sitting in a little booth and falling asleep. As far as İ can tell, thier only function is to collect stray dogs and garbage. Apparently, they are paid to do this. İn my opinion, they are doing a very good job of it.

So far, İ have spent my days hiding in my apartment, with short adventure filled visits outside. Robyn and İ spent three days trying to find the grocery store! Luckily, our wealthy patron has supplied us with a supermarket's worth of food products. Also, bread costs nothing, so we could live forever. We finally did untangle our map and reach the market. Beer here only costs about a dollar fıfty for a lıtre or so. Guess what everyone is getting for Christmas?

Oh yeah, our bathroom is small and set up in such a way that İ cannot tell if İ am taking a shower in the toilet or taking a dump in the shower. Not much different from my normal life, İ suppose.

Next week we plan on setting out on some 'cultural' trips, but we shall see. There is a distinct posability that İ will spend the next six weeks eating bread and seeing how many dogs the lot minders can collect.

İ'll be sure to lift a frosty glass of Cola Turka to all my dead homies. Until next week....

Will

London Eyes and Daliphants

Spent the last couple of days sightseeing around London. Have managed to absorb a modicum of culture by taking a guided tour of the city and visiting a Salvador Dali exhibit. Man, that guy sure liked to paint pictures of penises. Had a fine dinner with a bunch of Canadian expats (haven't actually met any Brits yet, go figure). Today, we plan on visiting the British museum, after which I will be forced to attend the harry potter premier. Yeah! I sure love Harry Potter! (I don't even get to watch the movie, just watch people going to watch the movie). After that, we're going to check out the Vancouver/Calgary game at a "Canadian" bar. Just like me, come to England and go to a Canadian pub. Anyway, I gots to go hit the underground, talk to ya'll later.

Will

Air Travel and London Town

Arrived in Heathrow yesterday after a harrowing nine hour flight. Naturally, I was seated in front of a whiny little kid who slept only when I was awake, and screamed like a banshee only when I was asleep. To top this off, he seemed to know that I was still recovering from injury, as he continually woke me from slumber with a good boot to the kidney. When I turned around to ask him to desist, he grimaced at me like the escaped denizen of some sort of hell. Not the bigtop, center stage Hell; more like a hell populated by snotty, generally annoying demons who natter on about wanted a diaper when they are clearly two or three years old and should be able to use a proper toilet. Not that an airplane restroom can really be classified as "proper".

Anyway. From what I've seem of London so far it is big and filled with tiny vehicles that insist on going in the opposite direction and attempting to run my ass over. Robyn is decidedly jetlagged and is sleeping it off. As soon as I get bored of this exercise in self masturbation and decide to wake her up, we are going downtown to see all the standard London sights. There may be pictures tomorrow, if I can figure out how to upload them to this computer.

Oh yeah, if Marq is reading this, I was unable to find any lucimaid (sp?) at Heathrow, but since we have a four hour layover on the way back, I will definitely hunt some down and drink it in your honor.

Here's hoping I don't get beat up by soccer hooligans before I can write another post.

Will

Use This Finger to Follow the Links

Alright, I'm still here in town. Actually, I'm not really going anywhere, I just need a break from all my hangers on. I'll just hide in my basement for two months, and then go out and buy a lot of Turkish delight.

I've attempted to pretty up this blog using my rudimentary programming skills. (this involves bashing the computer with a brick until it gets the message). Also, there should be some google ads to click if you want (this will provide me with money so I can buy you all bitchin' presents). If I add just the right words to this blog, I'm hoping that I can trick the webcrawler into posting hilarious, non sequitur ads. Here, I'll give it a test run. DEPILLATORY! POPEMOBILE! SALSASHARK! SASQUATCH! Check the ads, and see if they are hilarious yet. It may take a day or two before the start working properly.

I have also added working links. This is a miracle in and of itself. Check out my football club or Robyn's blog (mine is totally awesomer!).


Will

On the Eve of the Leave

Well, this is my first foray into the vast wasteland of self-aggrandizing drivel known as the blogsphere. I have fully prepared myself to describe the minute details of my everyday life in excruciating, unforgivably flowery prose. Be aware that in all probability I will use large words in a gratuitous manner, in order to make myself look more intelligent. In all likelihood, I will misuse these words and drive you crazy with frequent misspellings and a total lack of understanding of the the subtleties of punctuation.

Disclaimers aside, I am preparing to leave this beautiful yet restraining island for the world at large. As of tomorrow, I will no longer be simply a local nuisance. Those wacky Turks better watch out, I am not the greatest ambassador of good taste and manners. I plan on wearing a leather fanny pack and complaining that the daily calls to prayer are disturbing my meal of big macs and coca-cola. I wonder if you can get banned from a country for being a cultural travesty?

Anyway, goodbye to all, I shall return in two months and trade hastily made up tales of adventure for free food and drink from my gullible compatriots. Be prepared to hear many stories about Turkish delight, as I plan on ignoring the bustling city of ancient wonders and sitting in my apartment eating candy for eight weeks.

As I side note to all you F.U.ers that may be reading this, know that I plan on forming an all Turkish team for the express purpose of coming to Victoria to embarrass your asses! (Seriously though, teach the league to fear the mighty FU!)

Looking forward to a ten hour flight in the middle of the night.


Will