Coffee and Effe - turkish delights

I'm listening to Sanders Bohlke tonight.... so chill.

Joe had a long day, and he's already made it to bed. My kitchen table's a wreck. I've cluttered it up with eBay items-to-sell. I have a few things up, but nothing is selling. I keep plugging along.... I have to straighten up this table before I go to bed. Straightening up anything before I go to bed is a sickness of mine. The pillows on the couch have to be straight before I go to bed, even though Rudy will demolish them in the morning when he decides he doesn't wish to sleep cramped under the bed any longer. The dishes have to be done or else I can't sleep. I think I do this because if I don't, then tomorrow is just an even longer day, and most likely I won't have time to "fix up" my area until the next evening. Also, clutter confuses me. It makes me take more effort to think about things, as if I have a thousand people in the room all talking in loud voices, all at one time. Joe isn't like that at all. He can hear a quiet TV when 30 bombs are detonating in chair next to him if he wanted to. I'm jealous. I don't know how this is - maybe its because we were raised in different volume-leveled households ... or maybe its the fact that he's a man and I'm a woman (I doubt this to be the fact of all facts, but it may contribute...) I don't know.

I'm up late tonight - and for once I'm "awake." I don't really understand why, but I can think of a million things to do, but I'm not going to do them. Joe had some work to do tonight analyzing a potential purchase for their company and I put my college skills to work analyzing and comparing income statements (see mom ... I'm still using my degree). I still have more energy (which is good because the dishes aren't done yet...)

Joe joked that maybe it was my Turkish Sultan Coffee that I brewed at 8 this morning. I had one cup at 8, and it was AWESOME. (Hey...the history of coffee is very interesting.....check it out). He bought me a can for my birthday last week. VERY creative gift. I was in Turkey a few years ago for a short stint and have been interested in it since. Anyway, the coffee was not like Folger's as you can imagine. It had more of real coco consistency. And the smell.....Ohhhh the smell. Delicious. The taste, just as amazing. The taste seemed to be a familiar one - maybe similar to the taste that I experience while visiting - I can't believe that I would remember such a taste, but maybe.

My turkish experience was a very interesting one indeed. I was with a motley mixture of 6 very different individuals. I'll never forget the afternoon we arrived in Izmir. We dropped our luggages at our hotel, and proceeded to venture out into the city in search of food. I was rooming with Jeff as he was a close friend, and we didn't worry about the "awkwardness" of sharing a room as there was an odd number of women and men. The other two women were - well, they were what they were - both carrying their own luggage of insecurities and female caddiness, and I simply didn't care to room with either one of them. We found a place to eat, and throughout, the leader of the band casually spouted rude and abnoxious orders at the wait staff. I wanted to sink under the table and I kept flashing apologetic looks to each one. I even grabbed one by the elbow on my way to the ladies room and gave my best "i'm so sorry" and apologetic gesture, although he probably couldn't understand me, he could read my eyes.

After we left the restaurant we started back toward the hotel. The two women and one of the guys were walking a head of Jeff, Howie (another one of the guys that I bonded with) and I. We made sure we spaced ourselves well, as the "leader" of the band was red-headed and LOUD, spouting to every person that walked by that she had to pee, and she needed to pee NOW and where could she find a bathroom (believe it or not, this woman was 38 years old). The other woman was proudly wearing a bandana that sported the print of an American flag, along with a denim jacket with the same print. The guy - well, he was just slightly tall, slightly anorexic-looking with middle-of-the-back length scraggily hair, with round glasses, and was half lit (of which he stayed mostly lit the whole trip). Jeff, Howie and I kept increasing our distance behind these 3 as we headed toward the hotel. Thank God all 3 of us had dark hair, dark eyes, and kept our mouths SHUT. (THe general opinion of Americans in that area of the world isnt' really of the kindness of thoughts, and we knew that, and decided it was best for us to remain silent.)

The "leader" finally was able to tag two young men in their 20's and asked them where she could relieve their bladder. They gave her a sideways look, and pointed her in a direction that looked quite sketchy. As they walked by, we said "Thank you for helping her. We're sorry she's such a nuisance." They smiled kindly and stopped to talk to us further. "You are American?" "Yes," we answered, cautiously. "Wow! This is great. We are studying Western Culture in college. Do you mind if we speak with you a while?"

We let the crazy 3 go on to the hotel, as we hung out with these two. I can remember my caution antenna was WAY up, and my intuition radar was going about 500 mph. They seemed like decent people, very sincere. They asked why we were in Turkey. We cautiously mentioned that we were a traveling band, here to sing for the U.S Airforce Base at Incirlik. They thought that was a very noble cause, but also mentioned to us that it was smart for us to kind of keep that under wraps. We agreed. They made mention that we all mixed well with the Turkish culture. Dark hair and dark eyes.

Next thing I remember, what seemed to be a riot broke out down the street. We all turned to see what was going on. A wave of caution and fear rushed over me as I watched people chanting and marching in the streets with signs held high. Cars and trucks driving fast in parade-like fashion around the roundabouts and through the streets. The two gentlemen walked on ahead to find out what was going on. They returned a few moments later to tell us that the people were celebrating in the streets as their soccer team had just won a regional cup and was on their way to finals for the World Cup. (How exciting that was because a few years back, I had a chance to be in Austria when France won the World Cup in 1998. I was awoken at 3 am to parading and yelling of celebration in the streets. Why don't we do more of that here in the U.S.??)

We watched for a short while, making small talk, and then the two gentlemen decided it would be a treat to take us for an Effe, a turkish beer. "Sure, why not," we said. We were EXHAUSTED but we were only going to be there for a short time - we HAD to stay up.

The rest of the night was slightly blurry for me after that. Whoa, Effe. What a strong beer. And to think, they tried to force another one after I STRUGGLED to get the first one down. It was sooo thick. A real beer drinker's dream. I'm more into wine, so a beer is such an occasional occurance for me (even though my husband is now in the beer business.... how ironic!). About 1:30am, we decided to head back (or in my case, stumble back) to the hotel. My little body was HURTING from that one beer, and instantaneously. I crawled in bed around 2:15, praying that I wouldn't have a worse headache when I rose the next morning that I did when I finally fell asleep.

The next thing I remember - I'm wide awake. Its 4:45 am and my window is wide open, and streaming in is a frightening sound - the morning Islamic call to worship, prayers over the city's loud speaker. "What the hell....?" I think to myself, as I try to pull myself out of my Effe fog. I'm half awake, half asleep. Jeff is snoring. Now - to one who has never heard these morning prayers over a muslim country's loud speaker - its a bit unnerving, especially when you've had a heavy alcoholic beverage not 3 hours before. My mind started reeling (and my head was already hurting) - and paranoid visions of masked, yet stealth and undercover al qaeda members crashing down our hotel room door, and jumping through the window to kill us for being American. I suddenly panicked for telling the two gentlemen the night before about why we were in the country. THe prayers over the loud speaker only grew more intense as the 20 or 30 minutes passed. I contemplated waking Jeff, but was petrified. Finally, the loud speaker went off. I somehow fell back asleep. Thirty minutes later, I was awakened by my alarm. Time to get up and head towards the base.

The most memorable part of the day at Incirlik wasn't necessarily our performance - as it was our first together as a band (we had one lame practice - and when I say "lame" I really mean it) so we had some very rough edges - but the most memorable part of the day was when I rode my very first camel. Yes. And he stunk. And he was mean. And the man giving the camel rides hadn't showered in close to 2 years and was equally as mean, and maybe his name was Saddam Heussein (or he was his long lost twin brother?), I don't know. And the camel's name ...... Effe.

I'll try to dig up the photo.