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...
Thursday, 10 December 2009
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
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!
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!
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
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.
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.
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