30 Minute Story

Sitting at home watching Nickelodeon and should be planning my lesson for this evening, but instead I've decided to write a short story from scratch in the quickest time possible. Here goes...

The motorbike swerved between the rush-hour traffic, narrowly missing a dolmuş filled with passengers making their way home from work. Said Mohammed was coming to the end of his last shift of the week and the messenger just wanted to get the last package delivered so he could go home. Not that he had much to go home to. His girlfriend of 2 years, having decided she was better off with one of her male colleagues, had moved out the week before.

Said pulled over when he came to the address scribbled upon his clipboard and dismounted. He carried the box to the entrance of the establishment, a small butcher's shop in the heart of the Laleli district of Istanbul - once the Russian district. He had always hated coming to this part of the city, with its former hustle and bustle now replaced with empty shops and women of questionable character. The young biker opened the door and entered the meat-merchant's store.

What he saw took him aback. The shop appeared to be deserted and there was no evidence that any business was still conducted here. Where once meat would have been hung up and displayed there was now only cobwebs and dust. He checked the address again before concluding that someone had either made a mistake or it was a hoax. Nonetheless, he called out not really expecting a response. He got one anyway.

From the backroom he heard a faint cry. It sounded weak and desperate. Cautiously he made his way behind the disused counter and through the passageway. The place was a mess, but not so much that he didn't realise that something was amiss. It looked as though someone had been here recently; the empty Starbucks containers and pizza boxes looked far too new to have been abandoned any great length of time ago. He heard the faint cry again.

At the end of the passage was a heavy-looking door which was closed. He approached it, feeling a little uneasy. He suddenly got the feeling something bad was going to happen. Said checked over his shoulder, but there was nothing behind him. Still, he couldn't shake the ill thoughts from his mind even as he kept moving towards the door. Someone cried out again, this time much more softly. The messenger pulled down the handle and opened the door to find that the room was actually the shop's walk-in freezer. It was still working as the cold gave him goosebumps. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself was the reason. He poked his head around and peered in to the giant ice-box. On the floor, he was horrified to see a body.

The body, however, was still somewhat conscious as it moved its head ever so slightly. Said could see that it was a older man, perhaps in his fifties. He was lying prostrate on the floor and didn't look very good at all. Said went over to check on the old man only to be alarmed when the freezer door swung shut behind him. He calmed himself after a few seconds and knelt down beside the stricken man. Said could see that he was in serious trouble, his face severely bloody and his arms and legs bend at improbable angles. The older man muttered. Pozhaluista! He was Russian.

The young Turk asked whether he was OK, but failed to get an answer. Instead, the Russian spied the box on the floor that Said had put down. Painfully, he attempted to reach for it, but couldn't. Said looked from the box to the man to discover he was no longer in a position to do anything else ever again. The beaten-up figure on the floor was dead. Said whipped out his phone, but was dismayed to see that he didn't have a signal. He would have to go outside in order to call the police.

Curiosity, though, had got the better of him and the Turk eyed the package. Why would a dying man be concerned about a parcel? Said lifted up the box and tore it open. His mouth dropped when he saw the stones. Hundreds of diamonds sparkling in the light. For what seemed like an age, the messenger gaped at the riches before him and gasped. Could he pocket the little stones and still call the police? His mind raced. Wouldn't they want to know what he was doing there and what had happened to the package? He knew that wasn't an option. He would just have to leave the Russian behind and hope it would be a long, long time until someone discovered the body. He greedily resealed the box and made sure he hadn't left anything else behind. His heart beating hard, Said tucked the box under his arm again and went for the exit.

However, he froze when he fully understood his predicament. The heavy door had shut and the handle on the inside was missing. Said screamed out, but nobody heard...

New Year Plans

It is December and that time of the year when thoughts turn to the festive period. I concede that most people probably started thinking about their arrangements months ago, but I've never really been one to plan things too much. A last minute splurge of activity is more my style. This year will be no different as my housemate and I have just booked flights to Germany to see in the New Year. Our visas are running down and the cheapest flight out of Istanbul is to the German capital. This will be my fourth New Year on the road and yet another alternative to England. I have heard that Berlin has a reputation for a wild nightlife and, of course, a rich history to delve into during hangovers and fireworks. Previous New Year festivities have also been memorable, though for different reasons.

My first New Year celebration on foreign soil was in Tian Jin, China. However, this 'New Year' was strictly for the ex-pat community as the Chinese year didn't begin until the end of January with the Spring Festival. For six weeks, fireworks and firecrackers lit up the city non-stop. Riding your bicycle to work became a gauntlet which needed to be run, with kids and adults alike firing rockets at each other across the street! No lie, I saw one dad chase his child down the road and then launch the firework at the boy! Luckily, his poor aim meant no harm was done. My ex-girlfriend, Becca, knew someone in the city who she had studied with in Liverpool. We were very pleased to have been invited to her family's home to eat a gluttonous amount of jiao zi (dumplings filled with vegetables or meat).

The next New Year was spent on a beach in Goa, India. A journey around the second most populous country on the planet was punctuated by a month stay over Christmas/New Year on the beach at Palolem. Dancing on the beach with fellow beach-bums followed by a head-clearing dip in the ocean was not the worst thing to happen on the trip.

Last year was without doubt the least 'wild' New Year I've ever had in terms of partying, but perversely one of my favourites. As you may recall, I spent a year living and working in the vowel-shy, former Soviet republic of Kyrgyzstan. For the turn of year break, Anna and I travelled around Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan to see what a Central Asia Christmas and New Year would be like. As I have already talked about before, the first leg of the trip involved a car journey through the snowy mountains and undeveloped roads of Kyrgyzstan. Towards the end of the car ride, our taxi came upon an accident which had left several people seriously injured. Our driver leapt to the rescue and bundled two of the victims in to the car with us, which just left me to spend the next hour with an old dead woman slumped on my shoulder and another dying in the boot (trunk for any American readers) of the car. The actual New Year celebrations were fairly mute, as we were in the desert town of Turkestan in Kazakhstan with not much to do but wander the streets, buy alcohol and then drink in our hotel room watching Russian/Kazakh TV. Desolation defined!

This year should be more traditional and European in its format, but I hope it will also be equally weird and wonderful. Whatever you do and however you celebrate, enjoy the festivities!

Turkey Rocks!

Last weekend was Kurban Bayrami in Turkey, the Feast of the Sacrifice. Although Turkey is a secular country, muslim festivals still have a huge role to play in the lives of many people. In big modern metropolis' such as Istanbul the old ways are quickly dying out, but in rural areas you will still be lucky enough to find people upholding the traditions of the holiday. This pretty much involves slaughtering sheep and cows and feasting on the meat for days afterwards. Again, not everyone's cup of apple tea but still a culturally important tradition many 'western' Turks would be foolish to consign to the bin in their push for modernity. Thanks to this holiday and the extra days off, I decided a trip down to Cappadocia for a long weekend would be enjoyable. I had been before during my last trip around Turkey, but one of my most cherished memories is of exploring the area



Sleeping in a cold and musty cave at the end of November probably doesn't sound like everyone's idea of fun, but when that cave is among incredible rock formations in the heart of Turkey then certain allowances can be made. Many of the hotels and hostels in the area have been built around these caves and rocks and it's a nice touch to allow guests to experience the way many locals still live. Waking up at the crack of dawn isn't normally something I encourage other people to do either, but when you get to watch the sun rise over the spectacular landscape of the region while dozens of hot-air balloons launch their passengers in to the early morning sky then the couple of hours of lost sleep don't seem so bad. Fortunately (depending on your point of view), the sacrifices were made behind closed doors, but that didn't prevent the streets literally running with blood and guts.

Cappadocia is known around the world for its impressive rock formations, underground cities, wine and fairy chimneys. The fairy chimneys themselves make this a tourist draw as, let's face it, who wouldn't jump at the possibility of seeing giant penis-shaped rocks as far as the eye can see? I admit to having the maturity at times of a schoolboy, so I won't even try to pretend I didn't snigger like a fool upon seeing them. The rocks themselves were formed from volcanic sediment that over time eroded away to leave them as they can be found now. These fairy chimneys actually proved to be more practical through history than as just a humorous stopover for the various invading armies. During the Roman period of conquest, many persecuted Christians used these freakish columns to hide inside when their oppressors came rampaging through the area. In the valleys and hills of Cappadocia you will find churches and monasteries almost at every turn. The most visually breathtaking of these monasteries can be found at Selime, to the north of the Ihlara Valley.



Although many people will try and tell you that mass tourism to the region has taken the shine off Cappadocia, in my opinion it is still a place of incredible scenery and inspiring dedication to preserving a way of life. There are not many places on my travels that I have happily re-visited or would choose to do so again, but I can say I am happy to have had a second look at this magical place.

Treasure Hunting

Istanbul is a city with a rich history and littered with architecture which flaunts it. Sultanahmet (the Blue Mosque), Ayasofya, Topkapı Palace and numerous other Ottoman buildings dot the skyline so that no matter where you stand, you are never far from a reminder of just where you are. Millions flock here every year hoping to be transported back in time. For those living in this great city, the gateway between Europe and Asia, soaking up everything Istanbul has to offer can fill you with wonder on a daily basis.

Like many young ex-pats, living in Istanbul means living in Beyoğlu. This uber-hip, mecca to commercialism is the heartbeat of modern Istanbul with eons of trendy cafes, bars and boutiques. The main thoroughfare, Istiklal Caddesi, runs straight down the middle and is lined with thousands of high street shops and kebab restaurants. This part of the city - a simple walk across the Galata bridge, doesn't seem at first glance to offer much to sightseers looking for the more traditional sites. However, if you look a little closer you will get a feel for Istanbul's present and future. The best way to do this in Beyoğlu is to people watch.

I decided I wanted to play a game while out walking around the area. My friend, Anna, needed to go shopping for some clothes and with autumn now here, I had to pick up some new things too. As shopping is not something I particularly enjoy, the incentive of a game to play kept me interested. I've always had a soft spot for Treasure Hunts - an activity I like to play in the classes I teach, so I drew up a list of 'treasures' to find while we were out and about. These so-called prizes varied from the simple to the not so easy. The good thing about this game is the requirement to keep your eyes peeled on everything going on around you.

As with everything in life, context is everything so the list you'll see below may not be as you think at first sight. The game was simple. I had 10 things to find and Anna had a different 10. Whoever could complete their lists (or found the most by the end of the day) would be the winner. We numbered the 'treasures' and drew them from a hat to ensure fairness. Unfortunately, I never have the best luck in these matters and I found myself needing to spot some fairly tough things.

Mike's Bounty - 1. a veiled woman 2. someone eating fruit 3. a ginger cat 4. a middle-aged man's hairy chest 5. someone wearing a football top 6. someone carrying a Turkey flag 7. an 'I Heart Istanbul' T-shirt 8. a big moustache 9. some old British tourists 10. someone wearing a school uniform.

Anna's Bounty - 1. someone's knees 2. an American family 3. a trendy mohawk/mullet haircut 4. a transvestite 5. an old woman in traditional attire 6. an old man wearing a hat 7. a black person 8. someone using prayer beads 9. someone with a facial piercing 10. a street performer.

Now, as I said, context is everything. What is so strange about seeing a black person, for example? Three years in China and Central Asia, I admit, played a big part in this. Being in such a cosmopolitan place after so long away was a shock to see people of many different nationalities and race. Similarly, seeing a person being open with their sexuality or sexual orientation was not something that was common in those regions either.

The game got off to a pretty horrendous start for yours truly, as Anna ticked off treasure after treasure in quick succession. It took almost an hour for me to find anything on my list, but the big handle-bar moustache I spotted marching down the street at least kept my tally respectable. I was hopeful of reeling in my rival as she had crossed off the easy pickings, but I was confident that glimpsing some knees in autumn was unlikely. My biggest problem was spying anyone eating fruit. In a country where the kebab is king, fruit eaters generally restrict themselves to enjoying their five portions at home. Surprisingly, it also took a long time to see a middle-aged guy with his shirt buttons undone enough to show off his chest hair. Just like the buses, however, I was rewarded for my patience. I even saw a couple of clowns, though, they didn't get me any bonus points. :-(

In the end, however, there can be only one winner and that wasn't me. The game did liven up a shopping expedition, though, and checking out my fellow co-habitants to discover the modern Istanbullus was fun. This is an international city rooted in its traditions; a city proud of its muslim heritage, but also its secularity; a city filled with spectacular architecture and equally fantastic people.

Migrant Workers

I knew for a long, long time that I was going to travel the world. Leaving England and working abroad was only a matter of time and opportunity. It's funny how these things work themselves out, but I was reminded this weekend about a different career path I could have followed.

I am currently working in Istanbul as an English teacher. Contrary to the usual response from TEFL teachers the world over, I quite enjoy my job and definitely don't see this as a short-term distraction from a "real" job. Sure, I don't consider this to be something I will do forever, but then who said we had to choose one job and stick with it? Previous jobs positions I have held include charity fundraiser, office monkey (not literally) and croupier in a casino. I have also applied for various jobs such as a clown (under-qualified), a porn star (didn't get a call back), a flight attendant (couldn't keep the shit-eating grin fixed long enough), a male escort (still would consider) and an accountant (think I was under the influence!). These, however, were only flights of fantasy. A twisted Rob Gordon-like Top 5 list of dream jobs, if you will. Travelling, was always number one on my list of things to do.

Long before teaching popped up on my radar, I had bought a book entitled "How to Work Your Way Around the World". I carried this Bible around with me for months, dreaming of all the different ways I was going to fulfill my ambitions. My first hurdle was going to be working in hostels around Europe, followed by grape and olive picking throughout Italy, Greece and Turkey. For some crazy reason, however, I believed that I needed to save up a wad of cash to help me get on my way and these dreams soon gave way to cold, hard reality. When I got my first English teaching job in China, I discovered the foolishness of youth. I left England with nothing, but a plane ticket and the promise of an advance from my school to help me settle in.

Teaching English has enabled me to travel to some great places I otherwise wouldn't have thought about visiting such as Central Asia as well as learning languages as diverse as Chinese and Russian. Ironically, last weekend also brought everything full circle as I went to a small village to visit some Turkish friends. They own a load of land upon which they grow olive trees, so I was able to carry out a long-forgotten plan all along. Luckily for me, I think I made the right choice becoming a teacher instead. Dealing with sixty-odd primary school students in China is much more preferable than the back-breaking work in a field. Either way, it just goes to show you should never rule anything out.

The Three Amigos

Football is the world game, the beautiful game. It is also the great uniter. Whether you are a poor black kid from Brazil or a rich oil tycoon from Russia, a young Japanese girl or a wife and mother from the US, the game connects people in a way that not even religion or politics can touch. If you can find him, just ask Osama bin Laden. He spent years supporting Arsenal, though I'm sure there's no link to his latter life.

Such a thing then is bound to attract supporters who actually live up to their tag as 'fanatics.' In Turkey, going to the game and knocking out a couple of chants isn't enough. You have to be a fundamental ingredient to what is happening on the pitch. Fans of Galatasaray welcome visitors to 'Hell" and give them an extra hot reception. The old cliché is that the fans can be a team's 12th player, but in Turkey this really does seem to be the case.

Last year Beşiktaş were crowned the champions of Turkey by virtue of being the best of a bad lot. With this they qualified for the European Champions League where memories of being on the receiving end of an 8-0 thrashing by Liverpool still linger. This year, they have the chance to redeem themselves and have found themselves pitted in the same group as 'my' team, Manchester United. As I now live in Istanbul I wanted to enjoy the unique atmosphere of a Turkish football crowd and I couldn't think of a better time than when United came to town.

Last night was the big game so I took Anna to her first live game proper. Coming from the other side of the Atlantic, she had avoided the snare of the sport and therefore missed out on what the fuss what about. Ever since the draw was made last month, I had encountered Beşiktaş supporters happy to engage in friendly banter. The tıme leading up to kick-off, though, was a different story. They put their 'game faces' on and got into the 'zone.' It really was as though they were preparing to go out onto the pitch themselves and take on the foes from England. İndeed, they even congregated for a `team-talk` near the stadium to discuss their tactics. They settled on a catchy "F**k You, Manchester" chant, which even got stuck in my head.

Once inside the stadium it became obvious that this was no ordinary set of fans. Officially Beşiktaş supporters are the loudest in the world with a record decibel level of 132 being set a few years previously. We had bought tickets amongst the home lot hoping to soak it all up, but I think I could have been in Ankara and still felt it. As the players lined up to start the game, the volume increased again and I have no idea how anyone could play and not be affected. For the entirety of the game, but for one notable exception, the fans kept it up and shouted themselves hoarse. It was only part way through that I noticed that the main stand had three young supporters who appeared to be leading the chants, raised on a platform. I discovered later that these were the 'Amigos,' die-hard fans who make sure no-one shirks their duties. As I said, they only stopped once and that was when the away team scored the winning goal towards the end of the match. The silence was perhaps more deafening than anything that had come before and I made sure to keep my celebrations internal.

Unfortunately, the game couldn't match the same heights and it won't be remembered for anything other than the result in the annuls of history. For me, however, this game will always stay in my mind for the atmosphere. It was electric.

Housemates

With my 28th birthday and my move into my new place in Istanbul came the realisation that I have never lived alone. From childhood right through to this point I have always lived with someone; parents, grandparents, friends or girlfriends. Even the odd stranger! As everyone is probably aware, the best and worst experiences you can have usually transpire because of this arrangement.

As I said in my last post, I have recently settled in Istanbul and moved into my new house yesterday evening. Needless to say I have a housemate - my girlfriend, Anna. We met in Kyrgyzstan and have been together for almost a year. I'm pretty sure we'll get along just fine as we have practically been living together for almost the entirety of our relationship and we've yet to try and kill each other! However, I'm not one to take things for granted and it helps to remind myself of all the different people I have shared my space with.

To be rather mundane, I spent the vast majority of my childhood living at home with my family. Fortunately, it was rent-free and the ol' lady running the place didn't give me too much hassle - in fact, she even cooked and cleaned. There was a spell living with my grandparents after my parents got divorced (one of my first memories is of walking through the park between the two houses holding my grandmother's hand and a giant teddy bear in the other), but the bulk of my formative years were with my mum, brother and sister (plus a stepfather who at one point lived solely downstairs while we lived upstairs, but that's a different story).

My adventures with strangers started when I went to university. Like most students I lived in a halls of residence for the first year with random people who would become my friends. Each student had a room to themselves, but would share a bathroom and kitchen. My particular dorm area had 6 residents. My immediate next door neighbour turned out to be a bit of a tool, though he did provide something memorable. One night, my housemate had his girlfriend over and were engaging in the sort of thing red-blooded animals get up to. I was surprised, however, to hear their sex talk through the wall. "Call me the drill!" he demanded of her. ""Cos you're my road." Thinking I'd hear a fit of giggling next, I was taken aback to hear the young girl comply. "Drill me, drill me!" will forever be etched in my mind. Another housemate had a horse thong that would "neigh" whenever he was stimulated. Both he and his ex are still friends so I won't name them. :-)

Unfortunately, it hasn't all been sex, sex, sex with my housemates (actually, in most cases that's probably a good thing). For a brief period after I returned home after travelling, I had no choice but to houseshare as I had spent all my cash! One of my new "pals" was an Irish guy who had some serious social issues. It got to the point where everyone would make plans every night to not be around him. This wasn't always possible, so occasionally we would hang out at a pub or two or three. Being a big Glasgow Celtic fan, we went out one night to watch the final of the UEFA cup with some of his friends. Now, I love Guinness, but 3 or 4 is more than enough for me. For this guy, though, no English bastard was going to drink less and put enough pressure on to keep going until almost double figures! After the sixth I didn't really remember much other than hijacking a piano (I can't play!) and slipping away when my housemate and his friends started a mini-riot in one bar after Celtic lost the game. I remember the pro-IRA chants echoing in my ears as I left. The next day I woke up with a vicious hangover and no housemate. Two days later he turned up after being released from jail on remand. By the end of the week I had moved in with my friend, Ben.

So unless Anna decides she's into construction or discovers a penchant for violence, I think I will be able to enjoy my time here in Turkey without looking over my shoulder. Maybe. :-)

Nesting

I arrived in Istanbul just over a month ago on a flight from Tashkent, Uzbekistan. The last time I was at Atatürk airport was in 2002 when I was about to fly home to England after my summer travels around Europe and Turkey. On that occasion I was violently ill after eating a dodgy köfte (meatball) on a rooftop cafe with an amazing view of the Blue Mosque at sunset. For 2 days I wandered the streets of Sultanahmet in a daze and mapping out all the possible toilet locations. At the airport with an American guy I had been working in Kuşadası with, I fretted as to how I was going to make it on the 5 hour flight to London. Moments before being called to board the flight, I had made an unsuccessful attempt at one of the bathrooms and fell short a good way. The look of disgust, horror and contempt on the poor cleaner's face as I sheepishly scurried away to catch my flight could not be shaken from my mind for some time.

This time I was feeling good having made sure not to eat anything remotely dodgy as my last supper in Central Asia and ready to reclaim some good memories of Istanbul. I was here to find a job and settle down for 10 months or so, soak up the city and save up enough cash to fund another trip next year. The only downside to this grand plan was that my girlfriend, Anna, and I were carrying two giant backpacks plus messenger bags filled with our worldly goods from our life in Kyrgyzstan. They were heavy. Very heavy. The thought of carting them around while we searched for a place to stay did not lighten our load. Fortunately, a friend in Kyrgyzstan put us in touch with a friend of hers in Istanbul who could help us out. This friend of a friend offered her couch and a place to store our belongings for as long as it took to find an apartment and jobs. Big thanks again, Maggie!

I found a job with English First - I had previously worked for this company in China, easily enough, though the job wouldn't start until the end of September. This meant another 2 months of summer vacation. The pain. Finding an apartment, however, proved a little more problematic. We didn't want to pay agencies fees (super expensive), but many of the websites were in Turkish. Craigslist proved to be our salvation. It had been our intention of finding something cheap to begin with, a room in someone's house maybe. The added bonus of instant contacts something to keep in mind. However, most of the rooms proved to be just as expensive at renting out an entire flat, so we gave up that idea. We did end up meeting some cool people on our search so it wasn't a wasted effort. Back on craigslist we searched for cheap flats and were surprised to find a four-floored town house. Thinking there must have been a mistake, we enquired with the owner who told us that there was no mistake. We raced around to the house to find a three bedroom haven with an amazing terrace view of the Golden Horn! We informed him then and there he could stop searching for tenants. We move in this week.

My new address:

Işık Çıkmazı Sokak

No: 26

Yahya Kahya Mahallesi

Kasımpaşa

Beyoğlu

İstanbul

34440

Turkey

Here are some pictures of the new house: