Turkish Delight!

Over thirty years ago John proposed to me. Knowing nothing of weddings (which is quite ironic since I've been a wedding photographer for the last 22 years) I planned in the space of two months for our nuptials, even choosing our song - Two Tickets to Paradise, by Eddie Money. I think I've cringed every time I've told anyone this. At 19 you don't always have a realistic view of life. I nervously giggled my way down the aisle and we've both laughed since then that John married me for my money. (no pun intended - I really did have a whopping $800 in my savings account! Now you can laugh.) The one thing John promised, although not in our traditional wedding vows, was adventure.

I'd say this whole sabbatical has been something of an adventure for me. That's what happens when you've had relatively nothing to do with the planning. I like plans. Plans are good. Plans provide great security. Adventure is good too, as long as there is a plan relatively close by...

Wanting to visit Chios, Greece to retrace John's grandfather's footsteps and then Ephesus, Turkey to retrace the Apostle Paul's path should have been easy to plan. We were sure of it. Chios sits directly across from Turkey with Ephesus being found slightly south in the modern day town of Selcuk. We'd just hop a ferry, meet with a prearranged guide and be on our merry way.

John emailed several tour agencies announcing our intent and one responded that our plans were indeed possible. Prices were agreed upon and a plan was in the making. Communication was sketchy though, and when we did purchase our tickets for the ferry ride across the Aegean Sea, the plan for the agency to meet us was tentative at best. No problem - if all else failed, we'd rent a car with our international driver's license and head out on our own.

We arrived an hour early at the Greek harbor customs station, but the door for "Non European Union" passport holders was locked. While we waited outside with the growing crowd, a bus tour of 30 or so Koreans pushed their way through to the inside. Ah, this was our express ticket to the inside...jump in behind them; follow them. They must know where to go. And at this point, time was precious. We'd already wasted 20 of our 60 minute early arrival. Sure enough, once inside, a small hallway with a sign above it "Non European Union Passport Holders" declared the way to freedom. Freedom... Freedom to stand in line... inside.

Passing the time, I chatted with some Canadian boys about our tentative plans, how we hoped we'd get to see Ephesus, how we hoped we'd have a guide, how we hoped we wouldn't miss the ferry! All the while a very interesting man ahead in the line kept looking and listening. He had a familiarity about him. It didn't bother me that he was listening; after all, he was probably American! I decided in my mind that he was a biblical archaeologist, probably someone we'd seen in the videos shown at Sunday School.

As the departure time for our boat encroached upon us, the crowd pressed forward too, but not with any progress. We only compressed the line. Time for a plan. I'd go to the front of the line, announce that there were 5 of us (the 3 Canadians, myself and John) behind the big Korean tour group. I was sure they'd hold the boat for 30 in a group, but not so sure they'd hold it for two. Five sounded so much more important!

Feeling more secure with several responses, one of them from the "archeologist", I went back to the Canadians and my very own American...and we waited...and waited some more.

Well beyond the departure time, we were officially released - to run for our boat. Once on board, nothing could stop us! I settled into a seat, took a picture of John and handed the camera over to him. I was ready to just sit quietly, anticipating the gentle rocking motion of sea travel and the events of the day.


"Hello!" It was the archeologist. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, we introduced ourselves. The archeologist was....a licensed tour guide from Turkey. He had, of course, heard my conversations and was making his professional services available. He presented his card and I looked back for John, who was shooting photos. I gave the universal signal of the head-bob, meaning "please come to me now", but he missed it. I was feeling a little vulnerable. I couldn't really accept his offer. I really wasn't sure I could trust his offer. Even though he'd done absolutely nothing to invite distrust, my thoughts couldn't help but go to: "anybody can have a business card made." He told me about taking a 3 day holiday to visit Chios to explore the island so that he could lead future tours there. He had a comforting presence and although he didn't look the type, I still was sure, since he was foreign, that he could easily kidnap, rob, and leave us, perhaps dead, somewhere during the course of the day and no one would ever know.

I sent Bulent to John. Bulent Yurttas, licensed tour guide. I watched them talk (John was remembering God's earlier word to him: "Don't trust man; trust Me!") and it was decided. We would wait to see if the other tour company showed up at the port in Cesme. If not, we'd away with Bulent.

An hour and (another) long line at the customs house in Turkey later, we rejoined Bulent, as the other agency's representative was nowhere to be found.

"This is the happiest day for me!" Bulent kept saying over and over. For him, to lead a tour with no time restrictions, on his day off was a great joy. His laugh is infectious. He looks for something, then jokes he was looking for his glasses and he's wearing them. I immediately like him.

We have a guide!

I follow Bulent and John down the street as Bulent searches for transportation. We arrive at Blue Car Rental agency. Bulent speaks Turkish to the man while John and I watch a lady climb into her rented, manual transmission (almost every car is manual in Europe) vehicle. Bulent brings us the bad news. Everything is done by reservation. It is the height of their holiday season and nothing is available. This lady has taken the last vehicle.

Shreeech! The car barely stops in time. The lady customer had been trying to back out of the agency's lot but was now struggling to control the clutch on the hill. More Turkish conversations. She climbs out of the car in surrender, declaring it is too much for her to handle.

We have a car!

"This is the happiest day for me!" Bulent says again with enthusiasm. "This never happens!"

But John and I knew...God was in control.

I would say "let the adventure begin" but it already had. We hopped in the car, Bulent pulled out his official license and our trip to Ephesus began.

First stop: a roadside rest stop for a bathroom break and a spot of Turkish Tea, complete with a side of delightful conversation. John tells of his quest for his grandfather's village while Bulent listens intently.


Refreshed and ebullient with experiencing the tea (chai, just as we Americans call it) that Bulent says Turks are crazy for, we climb back into our car and head south.

The highway is incredibly modern and in excellent repair. The sights fly by as I ask Bulent about his life. He tells his story again of going to Chios to prepare for future outings there, but tells us now about getting lost in the woods due to the road sign being covered in graffiti. He tells of his fear: knowing that the Greeks could pop out of the woods, kidnap, rob and perhaps murder him. I couldn't help but laugh loudly and share my own thoughts about him. He talks about his 22 year old son, his wife, how he met her, his love for music and language, all the while interjecting appropriate narration of the beautiful sites whizzing by us.

We stop to eat at an outdoor cafe. Bulent leads us down a grassy lawn to a picnic table set for three. Lunch would be in the Greek style to which we've become accustomed - the biggest meal of the day. Bulent orders with ease; John and I are happy to simply trust his culinary wisdom.

Two different appetizers are served and Bulent walks us through the proper way to toast one another, clinking lower on your friend's glass in order to esteem him higher. (These are my words, but I think this is true.) The familiar cucumber and tomato salad arrives with slight variation from the Greek style. Also arriving is a delicious green bean concoction, tzatziki, bread, eggplant, meatballs and chicken! We finish with fresh melons and with our bellies filled, we head over to the Turkish Rug Factory to take a tour.

The owner tells the story of the silk harvest and we watch with amazement as the women work their knot tying magic.




The rugs are beautifully presented for purchase over a cup of Turkish coffee (mine with sugar/John's black). Making no inquiries so as to not lead the salesmen to a false confidence (perhaps offending the owner?) I confess sheepishly to Bulent that I shop at thrift stores! But with a new found appreciation for genuine Turkish rugs, we leave empty-handed to board our own flying car-pet.

Ah! Ephesus awaits us.

We've spent our time wisely, riding out the heat of the day eating in the shade and lingering in air conditioning. Now we would feel the 100 degree weather we'd been dodging. The city was huge, sprawling and incredibly ornate.



I knew I had to hand the camera to John or it would be a dangerously long day in the heat. You see, our trip to the ruins at Phillipi was supposed to be a 1 1/2 hour walking tour; with the camera in my hands, it took 3 hours. (I find it extremely difficult to not photograph beauty and Ephesus is filled with beauty, some of it restored, but all of it awe inspiring. ) John will hopefully post a full slide show in the next blog entry.



The day was winding down as we finished with the optional tour of the interior view of the housing of historical Ephesus. Although the dig was covered for shade and ventilated by fan we still emerged covered in sweat, but again, seeing the artistry of the time period was intoxicating.

Into the car and its air conditioned pleasures, we drove to an artisan/pottery factory where once again we were educated and enticed to buy.

Here were purchases that spoke to my heart. I bought a beautiful cup and saucer to go with my tea cup collection. The pattern was a simple white and gold and when I asked what it meant, Bulent and the shop owner both told me it meant "Eternity". How appropriate.

...who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace
which was granted us in Christ Jesus from all eternity...
2Tim 1:9

This would finish our day with Bulent, as John was exhausted and both men were concerned for our securing a hotel for the evening. We dropped our new friend off in his hometown, Ismir (a huge sprawling port city of 4.5 million people situated between Selcuk and Cesme) and with genuine affection, we bid each other farewell.

The story ALMOST ends there...we did secure a hotel room. After following the recommendation of the hotel clerk,we ascended stairs to what we thought was "an authentic Turkish restaurant" only to find they served American-ish food. Too tired to go searching elsewhere, we settled for Nachos.

After our small dinner, we returned to our hotel and turned in for the evening. We would leave early the next day...or so we thought.

Yes, we arose early, eating a Turkish (?) breakfast provided by the hotel then drove to the car rental agency to return the car. Once outside the car, John asked me to double check that we had all our documentation.

We were short a passport - John's! I remembered having to hand over our passports to the hotel clerk upon check in. Perhaps she still had John's. The car rental agency allowed us to jump back in the car, drive furiously to the hotel, where I reviewed video of our check in. Upon first, second and third viewing, we could see only one passport being handed back. A full out search was made, turning over files, keyboards, chair pads, etc. No passport.

I was convinced that God was completely in control. He had brought us this far. If we were to stay in Turkey, awaiting a new passport, it would not be without His sovereign authority and design.

I told the hotel manager we were going to step aside and pray, which we did. I thought the passport would just pop up and God would be glorified that way... John struggled more than me; of course, it would be him unable to leave. He imagined himself being locked up! His job of trusting would require greater faith.

Security was called in. We looked at the video one more time, this time in totality, with no stops and starts and explanations. There it was - the return of the second passport.

Now, the burden was full upon us. We'd retrace our steps from the night before making the climb to the windy rooftop with our hope that the blue jacketed ticket to travel the world freely would itself be trapped by the unseen hand of God. No passport. God must have some kind of plan...could we continue to trust?

We went to the police station, explained our dilemma and we were invited in to give an official statement. As they led us down the hall, I couldn't help but panic inside as the office was right next to an iron door, leading to the lock up. Inside the office John and I spoke to each other. "Are you sure you checked all your pockets?" "Yes, I've checked all the bags, all my pockets, everything." Checking one last time, John's expression froze.

There it was...in his back pocket!

I ran out of the office, making what I thought was a happy exclamation. (Note to self; never do this in a Police Station in ANY country!)

Quickly waving the passport to the Turkish police to alleviate their fears, we all laughed heartily together, but not for long...we had a ferry to catch, if there was still time! We arrived at the posted departure time, easing through Customs with no problem and raced out looking for our boat which would take us back to Greece.

It was not there.

It was ... late.


KK

Bulent Yurttas can be contacted at: yurttas57@yahoo.com
or on the web at: web:tourguideinturkey.weebly.com