That one difference

One of the joys of traveling is seeing all the different ways of thinking and doing things other people in other places have.  It can be interesting, frustrating, terrifying, or hilarious - or a combination of all those.  These are some of those "one things" that struck me this spring in Greece and Turkey.

One of the most frustrating things about Greece (and possibly one of the things we found most humorous) was the fact that every site of interest (to tourists) was closed every Monday and after 3pm the rest of the week.  And when they said they were closed at 3, that really meant that they wouldn't allow anyone to enter after 2:30.  Now, I can understand wanting to have a day off, and I can understand the desire for a siesta...  But considering how huge tourism is in their economy, I feel like it would make sense to hire a couple more people for each site, so they could be open Mondays and maybe a little later in the afternoons.  The general (half-serious) consensus was that if Greece bothered to be a little more accommodating to its tourists, maybe it wouldn't be in quite so much economic trouble.

One thing that really struck me is how much of an international language English really is.  We met people from all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas, and English was always the common language used.  It struck me even more when people would ask where I was from.  The fact that I spoke English was not a dead give-away (and apparently to non-native speakers, accents aren't as readily distinguishable).  Sometimes in Turkey men wanting attention for their shop or restaurant would inquire as to our country of origin and then begin offering guesses.  To my surprise, some of the most common guesses were Irish or Australian.  We didn't usually bother to correct them.  It was a pleasant surprise to not be immediately tagged as American.

One of the funniest (and most annoying) parts of Turkey was their election process.  Here in America we vote for the guy who can sling the most mud at his opponent.  Apparently, in Turkey, they vote for the guy who can blare the loudest music from vans making their rounds of the larger cities.  Yes.  I know it sounds weird, but it's true.  Everywhere we went (Kushadasi, Istanbul, and Ankara, where we were when the election took place) we would see vans, plastered with the face of their candidate, blasting loud music as they made their rounds.  Once we even saw an armada: dozens of boats draped with flags and posters, rounding the Golden Horn.  Yes.  I will vote for you because you have boats.  And I like your music better.  Okay, I have to admit, I don't get it (and I didn't care for the loud music).  But really, it might be an improvement over a mud-slinging competition.

One occurrance that would never been seen in America took place when we were walking down by the Bosporus.  There was a bit of a traffic jam, probably caused by unruly election vehicles.  Traffic was at a stand still when we saw one man get out of his car, pop the trunk, grab a beer, and get back in the car.  (Apparently he then handed the beer to his companion, but still!)  I think I burst out laughing at that.

One word must, of course, be said about the call to prayer.  It was not a new experience for me to hear it five times a day.  However, the calls in Turkey were, in general, much more attractive than the calls I had heard in Israel.  Much more melodic.  There were, however, what we dubbed, "The Dueling Muezzins."  As one of the most famous mosques in the world, I suppose that muezzin of the Blue Mosque would want to stand out.  And, of course, in that area of Istanbul, there are several mosques in ear-shot of each other.  The Blue Mosque would start out, "Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar."  Except it would be more like "Allaaaaaaahuuuuuuu  Ikbaaaaaah-aaah-aaar, Aaaaaaaah-aaaah-llaaaah-aaaaaaaaahu Ikbaaah-aaaah-aaah-ah-ah-ah-aaaaar!"  But longer.  Once that first line was completed, that muezzin would pause and the muezzin from the nearest mosque would reply with the same line, but with more musical improvisation.  Back and forth they would echo.  Too loud to attempt to hold any sort of conversation.  Fortunately, they usually kept the total time to under ten minutes.  That was still quite long enough.  It got a little ridiculous.  Kind of like some worship bands in America.

One of the most randomly fun things was the birds that would fly above the Blue Mosque after dark (and to a lesser extent above Hagia Sophia).  I loved to sit and watch them circle in the lights.  It was a sad night when there was a power outage and the walk home past the Blue Mosque provided no circling birds.  

One food that deserves a special mention is, I think, durum cig kofte.  (Forgive the lack of accent marks and the like.)  From my understanding, this dish used to be made from finely chopped raw meat, but that practice has become more rare.  Now it seems to be made mainly from bulgar and maybe lentils or potatoes.  Totally vegetarian.  One night we were out wandering when we were approached by a vendor with some street food we hadn't seen before: some sort of wrap.  We asked him what it was and he said, "chicken."  We figured later that was probably the only English word he knew that would fit at all.  At any rate, we bought some and tried it out, delighted to find it rather spicy (a flavor distinctly lacking from Greek foods.)  It was, however, clearly NOT chicken.  We ran into it several more times on our trip, and eventually figured out what it was that we tried that night.  It even became one of our favorite cheap foods - a welcome change from doner.

One thing is certain: many more "one things" could be pointed out, but to sum up, "It was quite an experience."