FAMILY STORIES UNFOLDING
8.3.2013
After going to bed past midnight again, last night, I slept in.... Opened my eyes to check my cell phone, couldn't believe it was 9:30 already, a first since I arrived in Turkey; jet lag is finally over. No wonder I feel so rested. I sneak out of the room again and take a seat at one of the tables close to the water. As I sip my tea while waiting for my brother to come down to the patio to have our breakfast, Kaya Bey approaches me asking whether we would be interested in joining the European team of six, we have been seeing on the deck since we arrived here, in their excursion upstream toward Koycegiz Lake. Both Mehmet and I enjoying such spontaneous plans (it became clear throughout this trip), we run to our room after a quick breakfast and get on the boat along with the rest.
Exit from Dalyan toward Lake Koycegiz
Our companions are an interesting team. I have been seeing them on the patio and on the deck since we arrived, but haven't seen them allow any eye contact to initiate a conversation. I wondered, whether they were shy, or uninterested with their surroundings, or simply respectful of personal space as is the case for many Americans and Europeans. As we are boarding the boat, I introduce myself to the young woman, whose name is Karina, who then introduces me to the rest. I discover very quickly that they were just considerate in their attitude of what turns out to be leaving us alone for three days now. Karina tells me they are all from Netherlands, one of my favorite countries to visit. Karina and her husband live in The Hague, her parents live in a village on the east border of Netherlands (her father works in Germany), and his parents live in Rotterdam. Karina is an architect by training but is working at a construction firm, currently, a beautiful, very personable, and sweet woman. Her husband Brat turns out to be a second year orthopedics resident, who is a brilliant man. I am surprised to learn that this young couple is vacationing with two sets of parents.
Brat and Karina, the younger couple of the three-couple Dutch voyagers
Brat recognizes this unspoken slight astonishment, he elaborates. "We have two weeks of vacation, only one week of which is with parents. He doesn't have to explain that, in fact, since the young people are so comfortable with each other even around their parents, it is heart-warming to see them being so playful and affectionate to one another in public with such ease. Frank (Brat's father) apparently is an expert in boating. In fact, Kaya, who is just learning how to use his boat, might have agreed to this tour because of Frank's encouragement. Frank proves to be a very understanding and competent instructor especially around the times of take-off and parking. Isn't beginning something new or taking the first step of a process is as challenging as ending something old or bringing a process to a stop? That's when true skill and talent are required. After Kaya and Frank do a trial ride, they pick us all up and we are on our way toward Koycegiz.
Frank standing on the pier waiting for Kaya
Frank is married to Lillian, who are both teachers. Frank grew up in Indonesia from birth to 8 years of age when his parents worked for an oil company. What is more exciting is that Frank and Lillian have a house in Urla, half an hour from my house in Izmir. As soon as he discloses this, we start an animated conversation. They chose Urla, which is not a touristic place at all, for this very reason. Urla in fact is a coastal town, which used to be the summer "resort" for Izmirites, when Izmir was one third its current size. Wealthy Izmirites would have a summer house in Urla, which allowed easy access to the city. With the sprawling expansion of Izmir's boroughs, Urla has been swallowed into the city proper and is now a peripheral suburb of Izmir, which fortunately has preserved its authentic character.
wonderful pictures of authentic and modest urla
I feel close to Frank and Lillian, already, who have chosen to buy a house in Urla in 1996 and made themselves a neighbor to an all-Turkish neighborhood. They still can't speak any Turkish beyond couple of words, but their neighbors like them anyway, they report. After all, you don't need any words to share food with your neighbors, sign language and body language would do just fine to let them know you've made something special and you want your neighbor to taste it. Such a Turkish thing to do, which I introduced to my neighborhood in Iowa City, following my mother's communal role in our neighborhood when I was growing up. It took root, too! My neighbors, an Irish decent American born and bred woman, a second generation Italian woman, a first generation Hungarian woman, who reminds me very much of my mother and others, all have started sharing food with me, sometimes in response to my sharing with them, sometimes, on their own. I feel so much more at home when I can transform my surrounding as much as it transforms me...
Kaya Bey gets pulled over by the river patrol!
Frank and Lillian tell me they spend considerable time in the summer in Urla, but when they can't come to Turkey, they send their friends and relatives to enjoy what fun they have found in Urla. As much as I dislike economic aspect of globalization due to how it helps the "haves" exploit everything the entire world has by providing the smallest fraction of their profit to "have-nots", I can't help appreciating the fact that, the extent with which peoples of the world are intermingling with one another like this is an unanticipated but welcome side gain of it. I sometimes even wonder, whether, wars may come to an end eventually, just because of this, when everybody on earth comes to learn about every other culture and people and how they live their lives, why they do what they do; the level of understanding everybody reaches about one another may prohibit regular people to take up to arms anymore. who knows, perhaps wishful thinking on my part... who knows...
Frank is happy to hear the river patrol has approved all the paperwork
Just as we are enjoying ourselves aboard with the breeze, the vistas, and conversation, we hear somebody calling "Idil 96, come ashore..." on a megaphone; that is us.... the coast guard off the shore is motioning to us. it is only 9 people aboard, 5 of whom are on the deck, what could be the problem? i wish it were only the fact that Idil 96 was bought just 8 months ago and has not been used on the lake that much, yet. Kaya Bey has to get off to show his papers to the guard. After couple more trips back to the boat to produce more documents that were requested of Kaya, he finally returns with a clearance. It was indeed an attempt for the guard to familiarize himself with this new boat and its owner. I hope there was no need for any bribing, we don't ask, Kaya doesn't say anything.
caretta carettas, remarkable and adorable animals
After this last snag, we are free as a bird heading toward Koycegiz Lake, 30-40 km north of Dalyan, draining the lake waters to the Mediterranean. the waterway gets larger and larger as we head forward or upstream. At some point, we see a turtle in front of us, which quickly disappears. These sea turtles are such intriguing creatures, having survived through 110 million years of earth's history. However, all turtle species are also in danger of extinction, thus, it is extremely important to protect shores like Dalyan's, rare breeding grounds for a variety of sea turtles. as I am writing these lines, I look up to see if there are any environmental efforts of Turkish origin to preserve Dalyan and its surroundings. Sure enough: I am delighted to find out that http://www.ekad.org.tr/index.htm outlines everything one such group is doing in Turkey. The videoclip on the main page is an unbelievably humane one on the story of sea turtles that makes one want to do everything to save them.
Koycegiz Lake
Eventually we arrive at Koycegiz Lake, which is one of the relatively larger lakes in the country. We head toward the west coast, where Koycegiz municipality arranged the natural hot springs and mudbaths into a simple but pleasant facility with an old renovated hamam in the middle. Three members of our Dutch team and my brother and I enter the first mud bath and cover our bodies with the mud, which is like a therapeutic cream. It is so sweet to see Kaya Bey smearing the mud on Brat's face with no trace of homophobia, both very comfortable with being as close to one another as the scene calls for. I wonder how a lot of American acquaintances I know would act in a situation like this. The personal space, at a minimum arm's length distance they need would destroy the spirit of the moment: Kaya's motive of trying to be as hospitable to his guests as he could. I was at peace though with the fact that I have many American friends, men and women, who could be as comfortable as Brat is in a situation like this. Those are the Americans I feel most comfortable with, too.
Kaya smearing Brat's face with therapeutic mud with such brotherly warmth
The mudbath is followed with a swim in the lake, natural bath, which helps all the mud to be returned to where it belongs, too. After a refreshing long swim, we all get back on the boat and head toward another secluded cove. This apparently is at the request of our Dutch friends, which is very welcome for me. I swim there for much longer, making multiple circles around the boat along the outer borders of the bend, where we are anchored. Finally, we are on our way back to the hotel, mid afternoon. Mehmet and I decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. We take a nap, swim some by the hotel, write some and wind down throughout the afternoon to get ready for our trip back to Izmir tomorrow morning. As my brother takes a nap, I go downstairs onto the deck to continue enjoying the river/lake both physically and visually. In-between swims, I certainly enjoy one of a number of delicacies; fresh peaches or figs, better yet, the "sarma" version of baklava, the exceptional dessert from Ortaca. Eventually, I decide to go back to our room to take a nap as well. I take a shower, which makes me marvel at how relevant our perception of time is: it hasn't been a week yet, since I took a shower in a different continent, yet it feels like I've had a month's worth of experiences in that short span of time, I smile. I am slightly sad when I rinse my swimming suit, considering it won't be used until perhaps November, when I will return to Turkey.
Resting on the boat after a good swim is so refreshing
After our nap, we treat ourselves to fish, sea bass (levrek) for dinner at the same restaurant where we had dinner the night before. The same musician is playing a soft, touching beautiful music just like last night. The leftover of the flat bread they bring to each table as part of appetizer dish finds its way into the water, which then continuously attracts scores of fish. It is so much fun to watch the fish jumping over one another to get more of the bread. My brother is infatuated with his new I-phone; we laugh quite a bit, when he discloses to me he is having a difficult time believing that what these cell phones and other electronic contraptions can accomplish is mankind's doing. He is a scientific minded man, that is why it is so funny for me to hear of his skepticism. We then chat about what my dad would have thought about all this electronic network invading our daily lives. That is a fertile ground for tons of laughter. Indeed, my dad would have lost his mind seeing an electronic device plugged into all his outlets during our visits, which probably would have pushed all his "environmentalist, energy conservationist" buttons.We recall fondly, the dinner we had together in March, just five months ago, the one that we had dedicated to my dad's memory and had shared with each other his funny stories. That was indeed a lovely night...
the top picture on this page would drive my dad crazy
I also learned something brand new from my brother about my exchange year to Wisconsin in 1976. He was only 10 years old then, when I was heading out to the middle of nowhere as an AFS exchange student to be away from the family for an entire year. He told me my mother had missed me throughout that year to such an extent, she would wait for the mailman's arrival every day and tip him (!) every time he brought a letter from me. I couldn't believe it since this is an unheard of practice for Turkey, especially during those years. He told me, he was curious about why my mother would read my letters over and over again until the next one arrived. Silly boy thought, there was something my mother couldn't understand in the letters; as if she were trying to solve a problem by reading over and over again. My dear mother, I know I've always been very dear to her, just like she to me. But, this new piece of information made me understand better how difficult it must have been for my mother to adjust to my departure from Turkey for good. As Bill would have put it, she must have felt I had stolen myself from her and the family. My intention was certainly not that. But I can see how they might have interpreted my innocent claim to be myself as such.
My dear mother, who aged much earlier than she deserves having dinner with my family
Thus, after another lovely dinner right on the water, we go to bed, with the feeling that our vacation, which was a spectacular one, is over. I wake up around 7:30, my brother is still asleep. Although I had decided last night, before going to bed, I was done swimming, the sky and the shimmering on the surface of the water from our balcony were both so inviting, I change my mind on the spot: I put my swimming suit back on and almost glide down the stairs and find myself back in the water! Since our hotel is in the middle of a bend lined with about a dozen of similar hotels, I swim in a big oval along the shore up and down. As I climb back onto the deck, because my brother is down waiting for me to have our last breakfast on the deck, I look back to the water one more time not knowing when I will be back to this lovely place. I hope I can soon, and perhaps with others, who might appreciate this adorable place.
 |
| Dalyan as perceived at dusk from across Hotel Kano |
No comments:
Post a Comment