It's a small world...
The driver of our tour bus (Omer, not to be confused with Omer, our tour guide) is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. I don't know what he is doing driving a bus of tourists around Turkey. He should be a movie star. He smokes, like most Turks and I guess he doesn't want anyone to know. He is hiding his cigarette behind his back.
I want to go on record as saying I will never do another group tour like this again. If one more person asks me why I haven't met the right girl I really may lose my mind. It's not like home where I can just tell someone I'm a fag and be done with it. These people exist on a very delicate surface called "travel," so nothing real is discussed. The other day everyone was talking about the wonder of grandparents and the love of children. I wanted to set myself on fire. I kept praying that no one would ask me about my family. I didn't think I wanted to be that guy who tells the truth at a cocktail party when everyone has agreed to lie to each other. I hate being that guy.
Because children are the most important people in the world, my group has indulged the two children in our group. They were playing a game on the bus (during our 7 hour drive from Ürgüp to Pamukkale) that spewed the song "It's a Small World" all over the bus. There was no escaping it, so I put on my noise canceling
Skullcandy headphones and listened to Branca Parlic and the
Cowboy Junkies first album. It matched the Turkish landscape perfectly and gave me a reprieve from the family hour on the bus.
Here are some questions that have come up:
Do you have grandchildren?
Are you married? Why not?
Don't you agree with the church that Hillary Clinton would be a terrible President?
Why is your hair like that?
Were YOU a slave?
Did you hear the one about the Polish guy who wanted a burial at sea?
Really, you cannot make this shit up. I am traveling with 8 people from India (two older couples and a family of four) a couple from north of Toronto, a really delightful couple from Australia (she's a teacher, go figure) and two women who are traveling together; one from Santa Fe and the other Puerto Rico. These are the people on the english speaking tour. The rest of the bus is about 16 people from Italy. We are in the back with our guide Omer, who has really been a love. When the polish joke was told, he quickly stood up and talked about how men along the Black Sea area were thought to have little intelligence and were often mocked in jokes. He said that the people along the Black Sea say that "We are so smart that we make up those jokes about ourselves." He really did cool things down a bit.
The drive today was very long, The country is beautiful. The sights are truly breathtaking. At a caravanserai, we stopped for a bite to eat. The building was incredible and housed an open and covered market with a mosque on the inside. Then we went to Konya to see the museum dedicated to the Mevlana, the founder of the Whirling Dervishes. We know him in the west as the Sufic poet Rumi. It was really an amazing place to visit. No photos were allowed in the museum. There is an enormous green cone over the center of the building under which is Rumi's tomb. The calligraphic carvings are exquisite and the place was packed with people who were praying, not just sightseeing. I was very captivated. So much so in fact that the tour guide had to come and collect me when everyone was already on the bus. Again, I hate being that guy.
Tomorrow is hiking in the travertines and looking at the natural rock basin carved by the springs at Pammukale, then Roman ruins at Afrodisias and then on to Ephesus.
The little girl asked me if I knew Hilary Duff today.
