CAPITALISM SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO TAKE OVER THE NATURAL TREASURES OF TURKEY
8.2.2013
I woke up well rested after 7 hours of sleep. The lake is in my mind; they call the waterway "the lake" around here. How is visiting the lake going to feel early in the morning when hopefully most everybody else is asleep? Yesterday, after we returned from the beach covered with a thick layer of salt (I don't necessarily need to take a shower right after swimming in salt water, I enjoy that crisp tension, the salt deposited on my skin exerts on my body and face after rapid evaporation of all the juices of the sea), I had jumped in the lake to "rinse" and refresh... Sakir, who, I will learn later is also our cook, was busying himself with fishing off, what I will also find out, later, to be Kaya's boat for blue crabs. The boats were returning with loads of people from the beach, the mini hotels lining up the eastern shore of the lake (the west shore is left to the king tombs) were busy with preparations for dinner. All were part of the scene yesterday evening. What about this morning?
I have to find out: I put on my swimming suit and sneak out of the room without waking up my brother, still asleep. As soon as I step out, the deadly sweet scent of the jasmine blossoms covering the entire outer face of the wall of the balcony/terrace onto which the doors of all of the rooms at the hotel open fill my nostrils, taking me all the way to my childhood, to the jasmine and honey-suckle plants covering the facade of the fence separating our apartment building from the street in Bornova, where I grew up. Early in the spring, they would both start blooming, the branches of both plants entangled with each other's. An ignorant person could easily believe there was just one plant flowering with two kinds of flowers. They would both continue blooming until late into the fall. Mornings and evenings they would especially get excited, they would almost reach out to passersby to fill each nostril with their intense fragrance. My father would pick jasmine flowers and put them in a bowl of water. The white angels swimming on the surface of water would fill our kitchen with a refreshing pure scent. I, on the other hand continued sucking the syrup out of honey-suckle blossoms until adolescence.
Sakir, our cook at the hotel, fishing off Kaya's boat for blue crabs
Sure enough, the scenery by the lake is totally different at this hour of the day. There is one single couple up and awake along with Kaya Bey. The boats of the town must also be all asleep. Except for almost invisible ripples over the water created with the similar, barely visible sway of Kaya's boat, there is nothing in sight that is moving. I can't bring myself to jumping in the water in this serene, quiet scene where one can almost hear the sound of silence. I climb down the ladder hanging off the deck in front of the hotel, into the water as quietly as I can. The water is cooler than yesterday. As I start swimming, my entire body immersed into the water except for my nose and up, the first boats announce themselves with their distant "patapata" (puhtuh-puhtuh) as my dad would call them when I was a child, imitating the sound of their tiny engines. I look up, these early tours bring visitors to the west shore, where the hills on which the king tombs have been carved rise high up to the sky. Once they approach the shore, the engines are shut down, as if to salute the kings of old. After a half hour visit, during which their tour guide will tell them all about Lcyian history, the visit will be completed and they will turn around and head upstream to the mud-baths. I swim up and down in the "elbow groove" the "lake" creates in front of a line of 5-6 mini-hotels, otherwise my head could easily get chopped off by one of the shuttle boats!
King tombs in the early morning sun
When I go up to take a shower, my brother is up and awake, too. We enjoy our breakfast at one of the tables-for-two right on the deck a few feet away from the water. It is such a pleasant feeling to be so close to what is most precious in this town. As we have our breakfast we start discussing what we want to do today. We resolve Saklikent (hidden town), which is a beautiful canyon, 18 km long past Fethiye is too far away for this trip, which will take 4 hours of driving. Gocek, on the other hand is a small, pleasant coastal town, which we both know from our youth but neither has spent any significant time there. It is lovely to observe that my brother is very relaxed about our travel/vacation plans, tolerates and welcomes any idea that comes with the spur of the moment. I ask myself why in the world I never did this with him before. It is very pleasant to vacation with him. As much as I try to make him feel comfortable and well taken care of as an able (big sister), he does the same for me that leads to a great harmony, which I anticipated would be the case, but I am still pleasantly surprised. The verification is still welcome since this is our first trip together, after all.
We get on the road and enjoy all the vistas on the way to Gocek. Gocek turns out to be mainly a yacht harbor and refuge. It has a deep and very well protected bay with lots of twists and turns of the peninsulas and islands blocking the way to the surf of the Mediterranean to enter into the bay. As we stroll along the shore, we come across a shuttle boat with a dozen of people, clearly ready to take off, to where, we don't quite know, we just hear "to the beach". We are in, my brother rushes back to the car to get our swimming gear, I stop at a nearby market and get couple of peaches and a big bottle of water and in a few minutes we are aboard and on the way to open sea. We pass multiple little coves, each one of which houses for the moment a yacht, or a boat, or a blue voyage team, or, who knows what else... It looks like everybody has their own private beach, it is wonderful to know that it is only temporary and in the afternoon, some other group from the world's citizenry may enjoy each of these unique and beautiful beaches and coves.
Gocek, a haven for yachts
Our captain Bulent finally delivers us to a distant cove as wild as can be, with pine trees coming down to a few feet of the water. There appears to be a make-shift facility to serve the visitors with sunbathing chairs, umbrellas, tables for lunch, etc. My brother and I move away from the small crowd and head toward the woods. The pine trees are leaning toward the sea, the branches are almost touching the water. Yes, we are in the woods, but the woods is in the sea. Where else can one find this? This is our kind of place. We spread our beach mat and get ready to enjoy the beautiful day. I jump in the water right away of course. In just about 10 feet, the under-footing drops into a hole, which I discover later on as I explore the underwater near the shore that the bottom of the sea drops like a wall at some point into that hole. Who knows what kind of story it has.
We do learn the story of the make-shift facility, though. The man, who runs this facility tells us he "bought" this cove from the government in the context of a very controversial law the savage, neo-capitalist parliament and government of Turkey litigated and has been executing recently. Until recently, all shores and forests of the country belonged to all people; no more.... All of the most precious lands, islands, peninsulas, and forests are now for sale! Our shuttle boat captain Bulent and his friend Ahmet will later tell us that two of the many beautiful islands around Gocek have been sold to two very rich entrepreneurs in the near past and the fishermen cannot fish in the most productive waters anymore, around those islands. “Money doesn't respect any religion other than profit” is verified once more, hence, why even the non-fundamentalist wealthy have been supporting the fundamentalist AKP, in power in Turkey for the last ten years.
The make-shift cafe on the beach, privatized by the Turkish government exchanign environment for profit
I ask them why the people of Gocek couldn't rise up against these sales, knowing he answer all too well... What could they do with only 4000 population? Instead of answering the question they give me even worse news of what is happening in the coastal line of Turkey: AKP is eliminating the municipalities of the coastal lands since none of the coastal towns votes for AKP. This is the beauty of coming from the coasts of Turkey. On the coast, faces are turned toward the horizon, to new lands, to new comers… We all agree that that is why coastal people have always been open minded, tolerant, welcoming and eager to intermingle with different cultures, ethnicities, and ideologies. Fundamentalism, on the other hand dictates intolerance, othering, rejection and encourages bad-mouthing among other malicious methods of dividing and conquering. How can coastal people vote for AKP and how can one expect AKP to do what is best for the coasts and coastal people of the country? It was sweet to feel I could discuss all these political issues with the simple but extraordinary men, the captain of our tiny boat and his friend as well as with Ayse, a 20 year old female college student we will pick up at a bus stop on the way to Ortaca, who also happens to be from Ortaca, returning home. My brother will make fun of me after we return to Izmir: Sister says “Hi” to somebody, poor guy responds to her not knowing he will have to tell her his life story in the next 10-15 minutes. This is new to Turkish people, I know, but that is what being from one land and taking root in a totally different one did to me. I am delighted that I became a landless woman with two lands to claim.
Gocek offers a beach per yacht, almost...
As soon as we resolve that the owner of this facility was one of the opportunists, most likely with close ties to AKP, we feel good about not giving any business to him! I bet he is dreaming of making a lot of money and chopping the pine trees reaching out to the sea to put up a small hotel first, then a larger one, he clearly doesn’t look like he would worry about the environment. Our corner of the woods is a paradise. However, the most impressive experience of my day will come from underwater: As I am swimming toward the exit of the cove, I see through my goggles, something shimmering in the water. When I pay more attention to what is ahead of me, I am stunned with the breathtaking visual. Think of a D shaped "frame" extending from the surface of the water all the way to the bottom of that hole with the straight line of the D was aligned with the surface of the water, and its curved belly filling the distance between the surface all the way to the bottom of the hole. This is not just a frame, though, it is a solid D about 5 feet long and 6-7 feet deep formed and filled with a school of fish! Hundreds, no most likely thousands of small (3x1/2 inch sized) silver fish swimming side by side with such artistic elegance is what fills the frame of D that I immediately get fixated on. I can’t move any more, I am hypnotized; I just lay on top of the water that is on top of the D, with minimal effort to move my head sideways occasionally to take a breath. I just sway along with the school of fish as I recall a similar memory from the Madeira island (Portuguese territory, off African shore in Atlantic).
I wish I had had a camera to picture what I saw, which was very close to this...
Portuguese invaded this uninhabited island several centuries ago and started bringing their people to inhabit and thus, claim it. However, this volcanic island, despite being surrounded with water, had no beaches. Solution: Bring the sand from Sahara to create beaches. Two problems arose, one soon, the two beaches they created were covered with scorpions, the eggs of which were carried all the way from Sahara! Two, the surf was washing away the sand. For the latter, they put up an underwater divide reaching down to the bottom of the cove to break the force of the surf. Here I am swimming toward the open sea and come across this heavy-duty, thick net rising from the bottom of the seat toward the surface. To explore this structure I start swimming along, when I notice a similar shimmering. As I pay more attention, I discover the shimmering comes from again a school of fish, thousands of them on the outer surface of the net trying to either pulling food that has stuck against the net or simply to get in… I recall spending my entire afternoon swimming along the net and watching these curious creatures.
Most pesants in the farmer's market are women in Ortaca
At 4 pm, Bulent, our captain returns to pick us up. After saying our affectionate good-byes to Gocek and picking up Ayse from the bus top, we head to Ortaca, with two goals in mind. I had worked in Ortaca for one month as a locum tenant 20 years ago. Among other pleasant memories from this town, I had had the best ice cream made with "gum", the extract of the gum tree that grows in these parts. None of the ice cream with gum flavor I had since then came even close to what I had had in Ortaca. I want to find that store and test if the ice cream will taste the same. Ayse is very helpful with that, she tells us, yes indeed the store is still in town, Roma ice cream (Yes, I recall now, it was indeed Roma Dondurma) but it has moved to a larger space. Good news, they must have done well, then. 20 years ago, it was a family with two daughters running the place with no outside help. I know that I will learn much more this time around having become a Turkish-American. As soon as we enter the store, I recognize the store-owner, he verifies that the place I am looking for is indeed his. His wife apparently doesn't need to work in the store any more, the daughters have married and moved away. I notice some nostalgia in his voice and on his face... He is working with "outside help" now. Not having had lunch, we both are all too ready for our treat. I am delighted to discover nothing has changed with his ice cream, it is still the best of its kind. If one has to go to Ortaca, Roma Ice cream is the place to see, even if you have only 15 minutes.
The funniest, self-explanatory picture I took in Turkey was this, a dog looking into a veterinary clinic!
The second goal of my visit to Ortaca is to visit its huge farmer's market held on Fridays (we learned from residents in Dalyan). Sure enough, I find beautiful cotton textile at the market, made by women from the villages as well as copper artifacts for multipurpose use. Knowing that I will have very little time to shop for gifts for my people in the USA, I buy lots of goods to take back home at the market. We also replenish our fruit reserves with more fresh figs and peaches. By the end of my trip, I will have eaten close to 4 kgs (more than 8 pounds) of fresh figs. In August, in Turkey, there is nothing better than fresh figs, at least 2inches in diameter, each, and peaches. I recall affectionately an American family I met on a plane about 5-6 years ago, who were going to Bursa, the home of best peaches in Turkey, just to have peaches there! I am not that foody, but, if I come close to a place where best of something is available, I will take the extra inch to try it. And I did a lot of it during this trip in Turkey. My brother stops by another pastry shop to get a very special dessert, called "sarma", which is the most favorite one for both of us. It is a version of baklava, better known in the west. However, to make sarma, each filo dough is layered with ground pistachio and pistachio oil along with butter and rolled into ½ inch diameter, then cut into 2 inch-long pieces before treating them with syrup. No wonder I will gain three pounds before I leave Turkey and will have to exercise like crazy for a month after I return to Iowa City! All in all, it is another fantastic day that I will top with swimming in the lake in front of the hotel again. Tomorrow will be our last day. We don’t exactly know what we will do, probably will take it easy by taking one of the shuttle boats to Dalyan beach and enjoy both the Mediterranean and the lake alternatingly.
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| Another spectacular sunset before our eyes in Dalyan |
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