The Turkish Boyfriend Story

(aka Turkish Men LOVE Me)

So I arrive in Cappadocia which is this weird lunar landscape type place where people have built their houses into these basalt/volcanic rock caves and you kinda expect ewoks or smurfs to come out of them at any moment. (Seriously. One of the more recent star wars movies was filmed near here) It was 8 am after an overnight bus and I mercifully had a free day in which to amuse myself and rest up before I jumped on a tour the next day. I slept for about 4 hours (bliss) and then got up and REALLY needed to do laundry. Really, really needed to do laundry.

Walking back from the village to the hotel with detergent and a desperately needed bottle of water in hand prepared for a sink wash (ugh), the manager of the hotel drives by on his scooter and gives a wave. He stops and then pulls over and says "why aren't you on a tour today?" I explained I had the day off and the tour started tomorrow. "What are you doing today then?" "Well...laundry..." "no, no, no you're coming horseback riding with me" "errrr...but i do really need to do laundry" "'c'mon you can use my washing machine when we get back, jump on." And we drop my detergent/water back at the hotel quickly.

So this is how I end up on the back of a Turkish man's scooter with no helmet en route to his farm. (I am tentatively holding onto his waist in a balancing act between not wanting to fall off and not wanting to hug him close, at the same time thinking "please don't kill me, please don't kill me")

Halfway to the farm he asked if I had ever driven a scooter before "Nope" - so he stops and we swap places and I'm learning how to drive this scooter for 5-10 minutes. We swap back again because the terrain gets a bit more dicey nearer the horses. I meet 4-5 of his mates that were hanging out near the horses and here I am jumping in a saddle thinking "this is NOT what I expected to be doing today when I woke up this morning!" We slowly head off, as I have not been on a horse since YMCA camp in about 1987, and have a bit of a chat. Part of the way through he asked if I remembered his name, which of course I did not because unless his name was Ali, Ahmed, or Fatimah, Turkish names are very unfamiliar and very difficult and I have a hard time remembering them. He told me again and I repeated it to myself several times but of course 10 minutes later couldn't remember it again.

(It's Fatih, by the way - as in FAHH-tee - which I got around my 2nd memory lapse by asking him how he spelled it 2 days later)

At the end of the horseback ride, about 45 minutes or so, he says "where to now??" to which I reply...errr...I was just really needing to do laundry..."No, no I will show you this Rose Valley, where there is a man that sells juice, are you thirsty?" Which of course I was because my desperately needed water was back with my dirty clothes and laundry detergent.

We get back on the scooter and head through town and into the valley, which involved travelling on the main road and of course zipping in and out of traffic like a madman. By this point he's had me lock my arms around him instead of the tentative waist hold I had previously employed. But all the same I'm thinking "please don't kill me, please don't kill me".

We get off the main road and down this ravine (I think the ravine was more dangerous to be honest) where there is indeed a man that sells fresh squeezed orange or grapefruit juice. At the same time that we arrived a group of 20-30 french hikers ruck up, all needing juice and wanting to buy the postcards & souvenir books the man had for sale.

And this is how I ended up selling postcards to french tourists in turkey, with my present-tense 12 year old french vocabulary ('c'est combien?' 'quatre euro ou huit lira s'il vous plait' ).

After the crowd headed off we had our juice and Fatih (whose name at this point I couldn't remember) asks "where to now?" and i say "well...er....I don't know, I was really just planning to do some laundry today" and he says "no, no, first I show you [unintelligible word] valley" "But, isn't it about to rain?" "No, it will be fine"

Halfway to the [unintelligible word] valley, thinking "please don't kill me, please don't kill me" of course it started to rain. I was in a short sleeved t-shirt and freezing in the weather.

We pull into a nearby village where he knew the owner of the tea house there (Because everyone knows everyone in this town) and have tea with the owner. The rain stops a bit and I'm still cold. We pause under a canopy and suddenly Fatih dashes across the street.I figured he needed to chat to someone he saw over there. A few minutes later he beckons to me to join him in the souvenir shop and puts a large red & black shawl around me. "Do you like the colour?" "Yes, it's very nice, how much is it?" "No, no, no I've already paid for it, for insisting on taking you in the rain"

So this is how I ended up owning a red Turkish wool shawl

Back on the bike - at this point I'm trying to work out if this was that Turkish hospitality you hear about or if he was trying to pick me up

(ok i'm a bit dumb about these things you know)

We get to our destination - turns out [unintelligible word] valley = LOVE valley. So named, I guess, because ALL of the rock formations look like giant penises (refer photo at top, me in my new Turkish shawl). So I'm in the valley of the penises, he takes my picture, and it starts to rain again. "here, get on the bike" thinking we're heading back to town. He drives a very short distance and parks near one of the giant penises where there is a cave formation and we take shelter in there. He starts shivering a bit, as he too was in a short sleeve shirt. I offer him my new wool shawl - as I was quite warm and dry in it - "No, we can share, let's sit over here" I was thinking "ohhhhh MAAAN! come on!"

So this is how I end up in a penis-shaped giant rock cave with a Turkish man's arm around me.

Thankfully the rain is short-lived, sowe head back to the hotel and put the laundry in. He asks me if I know how to play backgammon (hence the FB comment) and so we start to play a few games. By now it's about 6pm and I'm keen to free myself of this situation. We play a few and then of course we have to play for something so it becomes sharing a bottle of wine (I don't exactly agree to this but it's very hard to say no to Turks whether in this situation or if they're trying to show you their carpet selection). I start to make excuses about catching up with friends that I met on the bus - which wasn't quite a fabrication as we had tentatively made plans to catch up - and finally we kind of agree to postpone the wine to the next night (see previous comment about saying no to Turks in general / carpet salesmen). He gave me a ride to the pub even (me on the back with my arms around his waist, no helmet, thinking "please don't kill me, please don't kill me")

The next night I exaggerate a stomach ache I was feeling and was kind of hiding from him a bit but then decide to face the music. He wanted to take a bottle to the top of some hill at dark (very 1950s American teenager make out scene!) but I talked him out of it and we negotiated down to a glass of wine on the top of the terrace of the hotel. We had quite a nice chat over what was kind of crap wine (have had 2 turkish wines, one ok the other not so much) and I made the 'I have to get up early to go hot air ballooning' noises.

After the balloon tour I had 3 other turkish men flirting situations which made this one seem a bit more...er...normal
- guy from whom I bought an evil-eye bracelet (all over turkey - relates back to medusa and is supposed to ward of evil spirits or people or something) gave me his business card and asked me to take a photo with him (sadly it didn't turn out) and also told me I could come to work with him and stay with him
- at the ceramics demonstration the old craftsman who looked like Turkish Einstein (very cute 60 or 70 yo man) took a liking to me and gave me a little ceramic dish
- the tour guide in the middle of the afternoon started hitting on me and telling me I needed a huge evil eye to wear around to protect me because i'm so beautiful and would I like to come and be a tour guide in cappadocia I can stay with him

HILARIOUS

In Istanbul it was all a bit dodgy/ulterior motive but in Cappadocia it seemed strangely geniune - even the job offers - and not at all sleezy or uncomfortable, amusing as it was!