SONJA AND ANDY . . . TO TAJIKISTAN AND BACK

Ahhhh, Istanbul

2006-12-19T11:21:00.000+02:00

Our Tajik adventure is over. It was sad to leave all our friends behind. We spent most of our last day having friends over for tea and we even played some music and danced. The next morning we got up early, and with the help of our favorite neighbor, Nigina, found a taxi to the airport where we were met by Safina and Maruf to see us off. The Dushanbe airport was an experience and well worth the $40 to be able to say Andy bribed a Tajik passport officer in the Dushanbe Airport bathroom in order to get on the plane (he had a correction on his visa when it was issued, but it didn't have the offical stamp and signature . . . long story) but the flight was smooth and the food was even better than on British Airways, which isn't saying much. Upon landing in Istanbul, it was refreshing to have a burracratic-free visa process . . . just 20 bucks and a stamp and that's it. To save a few bucks we took the metro and light rail to Sultanahmet, lugging our overweight packs and bags the whole way. We went back to our friends at Mavi Guesthouse, where we stayed in June. They could only offer us dormatory style or the smallest double room ever. So we took the double room. Written in small letters in pencil on the inside of the door were the words, "Loser. You ended up in this room." and "This was the prision in Midnight Express." The next day we went out in search of a nice room where Sonja can finish her thesis, preferably one with a window where two people can stand up at the same time. We ended up finding a sweet room at the Stone Hotel that was not only within our dwindeling budget (thanks to Sonja's barganing skills) but with tons of space for Sonja to work, our own bathroom with hot water, a view overlooking one of Sultanahmet's many mosques, a super nice stone courtyard, and it's warm.
We'll be here for the next two weeks. Working, relaxing, and trying to ignore the harassing street vendors . . . "Excuse me sir! Where are you from? Can I show you my carpets? Please, madam. Just one look!"

Kheli Agib Ast!

2006-12-14T23:52:00.000+02:00

Our last hurrah in Tajikistan. Here it is folks, our long anticipated Tajik television debut performance. The first bit of footage is from a rehersal and interviews at Theatre Padida. The second bit is from a studio performace at the TV station later that same day. We actually recorded four pieces, but they just showed the one number on TV (and we unfortunately missed recording the introduction and first interview).

A Gem from Murghab

2006-11-23T16:58:00.000+02:00

While we were traveling around Badakhshan we were hosted by gracious musicians and dancers who were more than happy to share with us their heritage of music and dance, and we would sometimes feel separated from modernity and transported to another time. But the friendly artists of Murgab, one of the most isolated places in Central Asia, insisted on letting us know that they weren't going to be left behind by the times. At the end of a performance featuring traditional Badakshani and Kyrgyz music and dance, they proudly plugged in their synthesizer for some pop tunes. The best part? . . . . They left on their traditional Kyrgyz costumes! Enjoy.

Lebosi Tojiki

2006-11-21T06:07:00.000+02:00

We took these pictures for a newspaper article featuring Sonja and thought you all would enjoy them. These are Kulobi and Shashmaqam costumes for stage performance; the costumes were supplied by Theater Padida. People here are really curious and want to know why we are interested in learning about Tajiki dance and music. We think this newspaper article is a precursor to a television program we are supposed to be performing for, coming up soon. . .

Another Video of Badakhshan Dancing

2006-11-14T15:49:00.000+02:00

Another video from Badakhshan for y'all. The quality of the video on this try isn't so good. I'll render it again and repost it, so check in again for a better quality video . . . for now, just stand a couple feet away from your computer screen. Hob. Mylesh.

One bottle of ketchup, an Eid, a bazaar, and a wedding

2006-11-10T19:04:00.001+02:00

Another entry on life in Dushanbe. The rain has finally arrived and its become cold and drizzly, much like Seattle actually. Sonja completed half her thesis (rough draft, that is) and is back to coaxing Nasiba into translating more interviews and songs for her next section. In Andy-news, a bottle of actual Heinz ketchup was discovered in the local supermarket! It somehow dissappeared within about three or four days.
For Eid (celebration at the end of Ramadan), everyone visits their friends and family and eats a lot of sweets. We went with our friend Aya first to her neighbor's house and then to our friend Safina's house. There was a huge spread of food at both places, mostly sweets but also some sambusas, and fried bread, along with the homemade halvah, cakes, cookies, and other shireen-i.
A photo of Sonja and Safina,

and one of the spread!

We also recently headed out to the mega-shopping district of Dushanbe (Karavan Bazaar) to get some presents and some warm clothes. It was actually too warm that day and also too crowded but we found a few things. The best part of the outing was finding a sweet little cafe up above the crowds with open windows, a cool breeze, and a good osh (Tajik rice dish with carrots, onions, and garbonzos).
Some shots of the bazaar:

And, in the latest news, last night we attended a double wedding. Sonja actually met the two grooms in a costume shop as they were buying traditional Tajiki clothes to wear for the last half of their wedding (the first half they wore white dresses and suits). They were very insistent that we attend the wedding, surely because of our foreign status. Also because of the foreign status, they insisted Sonja make a speech at the wedding. She spent half the night fretting about it and trying to compose something in Tajik. She did do it in Tajik and, for the most part, it suceeded quite well! However, on the way home, she realized that instead of saying at the end "I will finish now because I only speak a little Tajik," she said, "I will be finished now (meaning I will die now) because I only speak a little Tajik!" We were laughing the whole rest of the way home! Surely, many of the wedding guests also got a good laugh out of it. We got a great photo with the brides and grooms since they insisted we take one with them (they sit on a raised platform and we would have both been way too shy to venture up there with them if they hadn't insisted on it). Tajik brides rarely raise their eyes from the ground and bow from the waist every three minutes or so. (They don't usually look as if they are enjoying themselves.)
We got a phone call from our landlord today congratulating us for being on TV. Apparently the wedding, or some part of it, aired on Tajik television! Day by day, Andy and Sonja are becoming famous in Dushanbe. Our dance and drum teachers are also conspiring to get us on television, Andy playing Kulobi rhythms on tavlak and doira (and maybe a little lapchang/mouth harp) and Sonja dancing Kulobi style.
The election results for Tajikistan are in! President Rahmonov has been re-elected by a narrow margin of 76%!

a bunch of ramdom pictures

2006-11-03T09:48:00.000+02:00

Dushanbe II

2006-10-12T19:50:00.000+03:00

Hamma Nagz! That's tajiki for "it's all good." Today, Sonja met with some high ranking folks at the Ministry of Culture and was introduced to a prominant dance scholar/teacher who is more than willing to help with all of Sonja's work. Score! Also, her Farsi lessons are progressing quite splendidly. Her new skills in the Irani language came in quite handy this week when we went to the Iranian consulate to apply for visas. We'll find out in a couple weeks what the verdict is. If we're approved, we'll be taking a train from Mashad, Iran to Turkey in December. Keep your fingers crossed. In other news, Andy's drum lessons, on Tablak and Doyra, are going well. The neighbors haven't complained yet. The video class that Andy's helping with started last Saturday. The whole thing's conducted in Russian, but he still found ways to help out. We're planning a trip down to Kulob soon. We'll keep you posted. Here's some photos of the gaudy Ismail Somoni statue in Dushanbe, Barakat Bazar where we buy our food, Sonja chopping meat, our apartment, and an MC Escher-esque milk carton with some cute rabbits and a glimpse into the infinite. Enjoy.

Life in Dushanbe

2006-09-26T20:10:00.000+03:00

It's already been a couple of weeks in Dushanbe and things seem as normal as ever. For Istiqlol (Tajik Independence Day) on the 9th, we went to a concert of a well known Pamiri pop group, Shams, and had a great time dancing (desptie the synthesizer and "fake drums" as Andy calls it). For a week we were living in the apartment with Sharlyn and three dancers from her troupe in America (Aliah, Tara, and Rosa) as well as Sonja's teacher, Robyn. We were all trying to wrap up the project and get classes organized for the Tajik interns, who will be taking classes in English, Anthropology, and Video Production starting in October, courtesy of the Tajik Dance Intitiative. The apartment was a crazy house for a while. Suddenly, everyone left and we spent a day cleaning the place. Now all is calm.
Sonja, as usual, is doing a wonderful job of keeping herself busy: taking Tajik dance classes at Theatre Padida, meeting with a Farsi teacher, and writing the first part of her masters thesis. In his spare time (i.e. his waking hours) Andy has been aquainting himself with the Tajik language, which is relatively close to Farsi, but as we are discovering, also quite different. Maruf (one of the interns from the project) has been frequently stopping by the apartment and keeping Andy busy. He recently took andy to a local instrument maker where Andy bought a doyra (frame drum). Now he just needs to find someone to teach him how to play it. Starting next week, Andy will be assisting the interns as they edit short films from the footage we shot in Badakhshan for the Video Production class. Things are moving right along. Exept for a few things, like the cops who stand on every corner blowing whistles at passing cars in order to stop them and take bribes, Dushanbe is starting to feel like just another city.

Musiqi Badakhshani

2006-09-13T08:41:00.000+03:00

I posted more field recordings from Badakhshan. Enjoy!

Murgab mp3
Ishkoshim mp3
Bartang mp3

Khorog to Dushanbe

2006-09-06T21:34:00.000+03:00

All of a sudden, our time in Khorog was up. Robyn and Sharlyn were back from the states to help us wrap things up and our last two days were spent working hard to finish what work we had to do for the project (putting together field notes, making audio and video copies for artists, figuring out what we had done with the budget, etc.) and, of course, throwing a party for ourselves and everyone we had gotten to know during our time in Badakhshan. Originally, our plan was to fly back. But, it turned out that getting seven plane tickets to Dushanbe would be terribly difficult considering that everyone and their mother were trying to get to Dushanbe for “Istiqlol” (not sure if it’s spelled right), or Independence day, on September 9th. So, five of us (the three Americans and the two Dushanbe interns) decided to find a ride back and try and stop along the way and document more dance and music. Uvaido went to find us a driver Sunday morning and to our absolute delight, he showed up with Faizali, the same driver who took us from Dushanbe to Khorog six weeks ago!! When the time came, saying goodbye to everyone was very difficult. We made some real friends with whom we shared some life changing experiences.

The plan was to stop in Vanj and find some dancers and musicians, but when we arrived we found that all of the artists had just left to Dushanbe or Khorog to prepare for independence celebrations. We could have waited a day for people to try to find some artists for us, but instead of waiting we headed for Darvoz, where we had stopped on the trip to Khorog, where Faizali knew people, and where we suspected we would have a friendly place to stay. It turned out that we were right. The family that hosted us on the way in was all too happy to see us back and greeted us with smiles, tea, and food. What's more, the man hosting us (who is the head of the village) works next to a music and dance studio and arranged a performance for us the next morning. From Darvoz, we went to Nurak to visit Maruf’s family, who hosted us with meal after meal and a relaxing visit to a sauna. Now we’re back in the Dushanbe apartment and missing the people and environment of the Pamirs. Surely, we’ll have more adventures here in the big city, especially with Independence Day approaching, and with Andy living in an apartment with five women. As always, we’ll try to keep you posted as events occur.

Bartang

2006-09-06T21:30:00.000+03:00

Our last official expedition: Bartang valley, north of Khorog. For this trip, we were joined by Robyn (Sonja’s dance teacher and organizer of this project) and her husband, Neil. The three-hour ride to the village of Siponj was smooth and short compared to the rough and lengthy Murgab and Ishkoshim trips. Four members of our group left the day before to find dancers, musicians, and a place for us to stay. So, when we arrived we were greeted with hot soup, an orchard full of apples, and musicians patiently waiting. The family we stayed with was more than kind and the head of the household a wonderful dancer. To our delight, the advance team was able to locate a local musical guru, Jonboz. He was hesitant at first to play because of his ailing health, but after he warmed up to us was sharing his music and wisdom with little coaxing. In fact, by the end of our stay, he had taking such a liking to Maruf, a member of our group who had grown up in Badakhshan and is himself a musician, that he bequeathed him a setar and a two hundred year old book of Hafez poetry! To top it all off, we had some extra time to get some swimming in and hike up the side of the mountain to some ancient tombs.

Murgab

2006-08-27T08:18:00.000+03:00

The road to Murgab was long and bumpy, especially in the Russian jeep we hired. To make matters worse, a couple hours into the trip, Andy's old friends, the stomach bacteria, decided to pay him a visit. Needless to say, eight hours later, when we reached the guesthouse in Murgab, Andy was curled up in the fetal position in the back of the jeep. We were hoping to stay in a yurt becasue we heard there were many in Murgab . . . and there are, but not in the "center" or city. They're all in the open landscape in the summer, occupied by semi-nomadic yak herders. The ACTED guesthouse did us well, though. Sonja was more than pleased when she woke up to a nice hot bowl of "sheer berenj," a hot rice and milk breakfast dish (Andy stomached about two spoonfuls). In the morning we went to the bazaar, where we bought some hats (the local population wears some great hats). Meanwhile, Uvaido was busy setting up a show for us at the local "cultural club." So, in the afternoon, we headed over to the theatre where we saw a variety show of national Kyrgyz, Badakhshani, and "modern" music and dance. The next morning, we headed out early for the 10 hour drive back to Khorog. Along the way, we pulled over and visited a real yurt and were invited in for tea and delicious hommade yogurt . . . of course we HAD to stop at the hot springs in Jalandi on the way back. It just would be right if we didn't.

Ishkashim

2006-08-21T08:19:00.000+03:00

We're back from Ishkashim and another great Badakhshan adventure. Ishkashim is a region (and a city) south of Khorog, about an 8 to 10 hour drive. On the first day, we got a very late start and decided to go only as far as Garmcheshma, which translates as Hot Springs. In Garmcheshma, there is a natural hot spring and a guesthouse where we planned to stay for the night, but the guesthouse was full so we ended up staying at the house of a local Physics teacher. After dinner, we went for an evening soak in the outdoor hot spring pool under the stars . . . at least the men did. The women went to a small builing to relax in privacy. Early next morning, we hit the road after a hearty bowl of sheer choy, or milk tea, and bread. Along the way, we stopped at another natural hot springs for a quick soak. After reaching Ishkashim city, we drove for another two and a half hours until we reached a village set on the steep slopes of the river valley. At the bottom of the village we found some musicians who were excited to arrage a performace for us the following day. At the top of the village . . . another natural hot spring and a guesthouse, which was also full. So we foud ourselves a freshly slaughtered goat and a kind family to host us for the night. The next morning we soaked and then went back down to the bottom of the valley to see dance and music in the oldest home in the area. They said no one really knows when the home was built, but guessed it to be hundreds of years old, possibly 18th century! On our way out there was a wonderful impromptu dance party the small courtyard of the ancient home. When the dancing ended, we drove futher down the road to another village where, with the help of a man from the first village, we found another home to host our party of 10 for the night, this time a border guard and his family. In the morning, Uvaido set out early and found some amazing dancers and musicians to perform at our host's home. Once again, we enjoyed a wonderful performance where eveyone danced. We left at about one o'clock and reached Khorog at about 10, where our wonderful house cook, Hodja Bagum, was waiting up for us with a huge pot of food.

2006-08-16T09:07:00.000+03:00

Try this link, it should bring you to an mp3 file I uploaded to the ether.
Farosatshaw, maddoh excerpt

Video of Badakhshani Dancing

2006-08-12T10:17:00.000+03:00

Thanks for the feedback on the video. I re-uploaded it so now it should be better quality. Stay tuned for more videos.
Also, next week we're going to Ishkashim for more music and dance.

Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Pictures from Khorog

2006-08-10T06:04:00.000+03:00

Maruf and Davlatnazar
Dushanbe to Khorog
Our home while in Khorog
Recording Sultonnazar
Sultonnazar and Uvaido

Khorog

2006-08-05T06:11:00.000+03:00

We apologize for the lack of posts, here on the blogosphere. For the last two weeks we've been kept busy by some exciting ethnodanceomusicological activity in Badakhshan! Yes, we made it to Khorog! At first we were going to fly, but then (as things happen in Tajikistan) at the last minute our plane was canelled and we (along with Aliah and Tara, the other American dancers on the project) found a ride with a couple Italians on their own ethnomusicological journey and Aliah's friend, Aya, from America who just happens to be doing her own academic work in Tajikistan. Long story short, we had a wonderful, two day, bumpy van ride from Dushanbe to Khorog. We stopped in a village called Darvoz where there just happen to be a huge party for someone's 70th birthday . . . we danced, of course. There, we were generously hosted by the head of the village and his family. Upon arrival in Khorog, we were met by Sharlyn and Robyn, who had found us a large house (with an indoor bathroom) in the center of town, wonderfully close to the bazaar. There are two interns from Dushanbe, Maruf and Safina, who flew in to Khorog the day after we arrived. There are also two interns from Khorog, Nasiba and Dilya, who joined the group and help us with language (people here speak Shughni as well as Tajik and some Russian, of course) and cultural intracacies. Finally, Uvaido is our logisical go to guy who helps us set up the meetings with dancers and musicians, arranges for drivers, gets us internet in the middle of the Pamirs, and shows us a good time. Anyway, after the first week, Sharlyn and Robyn took off back to America, leaving us to run the project ourselves . . . and here's what we do . . . in a nutshell: Uvaido and a driver and a couple of us drive out to a village and just stop by the house of a well known musician. Uvaido performs his magic and asks if maybe tomorrow they can set up a performance of Pamiri music (Rapo, Falak, Maddoh etc.) and get a dancer or two. Oh yeah, and there will be about a dozen guests with video cameras and a microphone! They say "O.K" and we return the next day in 2 or 3 cars and are invited into a traditional Pamiri home where there is a meal prepared and a curious family watching and serving us and musicians preparing to play. After tea and some food the performance begins and we capture it on video and people are taking notes and Andy's recording the music (we thought we were dreaming the first time we found ourselves in this situation) and then they stop and eat with us and we do some interviewing and chatting. On our way out we give them some gifts of food and money and things for the children and go on our way. We've gone to about 5 or so homes now in two different regions, Roshtkala and Ghund. In the next couple of weeks we'll go to Ishkashim and the Bartang Valley as well as meeting some people in Khorog and doing follow up interviews. So, that's the scoop. We have lots of pictures and we'll post them as we get the opportunity. The connection here isn't so fast (or always working) so it might take some time to upload photos.

2006-07-08T13:48:00.000+03:00

We made it to Tajikistan!! After Tashkent, we took the train to Bukhara where we stayed for two days (not just because it was a stunningly beautiful city, but also because Andy was rendered imobile by unfriendly bacteria in his stomach). Next we took a taxi to Samarkand. From there we crossed the border to Panjakent, Tajikistan where we strolled the main street and happened upon a music and dance concert!! It was a great mixture of traditional and contemporary: Lip-syncing and keyboards with beautiful singing and drumming. Dancers would periodically appear wearing costumes from different regions. The next day we hired a driver to take us over the pass to Dushanbe. We had no idea what we were in for!! The pass was at 3500 meters and the road was not paved. Amazing and hair-raising!! Upon our arrival in Dushanbe, we found there was no space in any of the inexpensive hotels and we had to fork over some precious cash for a "nice" hotel room. We were saved by our new friend, Munira, who is a key organizer for the project we are going to be working on. She is helping us work through the amazing amount of red tape and burocracy that is involved in staying in Tajikistan. We're now staying with the super sweet Sharafat, a local dance instructor, and her husband Habibollah (Sorry, I'm sure I spelled their names wrong). Again, there's so much more to tell, but we have precious little time. We will try to update soon.

2006-07-01T12:32:00.000+03:00

For the past three days we have been the guests of Sonja's Uzbek dance friend, Gulya. She picked us up from the airport and set us up with a nice hotel room close to her home (which is being worked on). In Uzbekistan, being a host is taken very seriously, and all of our time has been spent as guests.
Gulya drove us all over Tashkent, taking us to resturants and museums (she even got her friend to open the small dance museum that's under repair, which resides in the former home of her teacher, Tamara Khanoum). Yesterday we were taken out of Tashkent to a small "get away from the city" dwelling of her friend where we ate pilav and fresh fruit (best apricots ever, straight off the tree), swam in a small cold pool, and relaxed with some of Gulya's old frieds.
With all of this wonderful catering and hosting going on, we have had no spare time for anything. So, unfortunately, we have to save the tales of our adventures for another time (like the time Andy left his pocket knife in his bag and when trying to enter the Baku metro was taken into a small room and screamed at by police in Russian: "SCHTO ETA?!! SCHTO ETA?!!"). Our apologies . . . we have so much to tell.
Today we are taking a train to Bukhara, Uzbekistan. From there we will go to Dushanbe, Tajikistan and prepare for our trip to Khorog and wait for the arrival of Robyn and Sharlyn who get to Dushanbe on the 9th. We will try and give a more detailed update when we find our next internet cafe.

2006-06-24T14:24:00.000+03:00

Greetings, everyone, from Baku, Azerbaijan! We have arrived safely after a very adventurous couple of days of travel. So far our time in Baku has been spent taking care of some very important business and changing from hotel to hotel. So, instead of spending time composing a blog entry detailing our amazing adventure across Georgia and Azerbaijan, we're first going to try and relax and see the sights in Baku (especially since we, regretably, won't get to travel to the South part of the country). We will fly out Wednesday to Tashkent. Look forward to hearing about knife-wielding Georgian teenagers, organ-shaking minivan rides to the border, corrupt Azeri train conductors, the sweetest-ever Azeri train engineer, sweet-tart fresh barberries, and crumbling, mildewy, raunchy Baku hotel rooms!!!

A few pictures from along the way . . .

Sonja at Sumela Monistary outside of Trabzon, Turkey
Rize, Turkey
Old City, Baku
Fire in Baku!

2006-06-19T17:24:00.000+03:00

June 17
After a week in Istanbul, and with all the visas we could get (or had time to wait for), we took a train to Eastern Turkey. Early Friday morning, with our backpacks overloaded with books and equipment, we walked toward the bus that could take us across the river bridge and to the ferry that would take us to the train station. Reaching the bus stop, we realized that it was too early to buy a bus ticket and started walking down the hill towards the bridge. Maybe it was because we were a little sleep deprived and without caffeine, but about a mile later we found ourselves walking across the bridge, legs and backs aching from the massive cargo we were hauling. I guess we were just too stubborn to take a taxi. At least we provided some entertainment for the local commuters; one guy attempted a garbled “good morning” in English and then just started laughing at us as he passed by. He even turned around a couple of times to look again, still laughing. I guess normal people don’t walk around with huge backpacks on.

By the time we reached Haydarapasha, the train station on the Asian shore of Istanbul, Sonja was in a particularly foul mood—one hour without even tea (never mind water or food) and a mile long hike with perhaps 75 extra pounds will make anyone crabby, but especially one who likes the morning caffeine boost (although, Andy seemed to do just fine without any caffeine) So, we grabbed a quick cup of tea before jumping onto the train.

When we originally reached Istanbul, everyone was telling us, “Take the bus, the trains are no good; they’re too slow.” But about three quarters of the way through our stay, we heard the opposite story from those who had a bit more experience traveling in Turkey. Well, after our experience with train station information clerks and our mutual love for train transportation, we decided that the train was the way to go. Dogu Expressi to Erzurum, only 56 YTL (the new Turkish Lira, which we have given our own nickname, Yentil) per person (that’s about $35 US) for a private sleeper compartment with two beds and a sink! It took longer than the bus, a total of 36 hours, but the scenery was spectacular . . . farms and mountains and rolling hills and fields.
Tons of wildflowers and beehives, too. And we got breakfast and could stretch and walk around and . . . well, were so glad we took the train. The mattresses on our train beds were far superior to the crappy mattress we’d been sleeping on in Istanbul, which was at the same time soft and springy, resulting in hard patches of wires (i.e. springs) sticking into your body at random points. There were families in all of the compartments around us and the older couple next door was particularly friendly. The woman kept talking to us, even though we managed to tell her (with the help of our travel guide) that we did not understand Turkish.
There are a good number of words shared in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish so Sonja has been continuously trying to communicate simply by speaking in a weird Persian/Arabic mix-and-match. Surprisingly, it sometimes works; at least she’s finding out which words, usually Arabic-derived, are common in all languages.

As we write this we are in Erzurum, a large city for Eastern Turkey, but not too big at all. We are both very much looking forward to getting to a small place, though, and escaping the crowded sidewalks and anarchic traffic (Andy especially wants to escape the crazy traffic). We walked the streets and weren’t surprised (after Istanbul) to see small jewelry stores lining one street and pots and pans the next. (All merchants of the same ware tend to stick to the same area, so if you need a pair of shoes, you know the street to go to.) We entered a restaurant and astounded the wait staff with our lack of knowledge of the Turkish language, which marked us as foreigners. That’s one thing about Erzurum, at least—we didn’t see any other travelers out and about, a delightful and welcome change after the tourist capital of Sultanahmet in Istanbul. Tomorrow we will head to Trabzon, on the Black Sea coast.

June 19

From Erzurum, we took a lovely bus ride through seemingly endless mountains. Stunning views were accompanied by hair raising (or palm sweating, in Andy’s case) drop-offs alongside the road. We knew we had broken through to the Black Sea coast side when, coming over the top of a pass, everything was suddenly lush green. Small villages dotted the landscape and we reached Trabzon by sunset.

With little information about Trabzon and with few Turkish Lira left (it was Sunday and all the banks were closed), we hopped aboard the first dolmush (shared taxi-bus) that would pick up two strange travelers with huge backpacks. The folks in the city center of Trabzon were entertained as we aimlessly wandered toward the closest street with hotels. Con Otel (pronounced Jon Hotel) looked within our price range and when the old man behind the window excitedly waved us in, we couldn’t resist. The owners here are very, very nice and eager to talk to western travelers. They serve a wonderful cup of chay (tea) and a standard Turkish breakfast . . . although, we do have the feeling that the notes we took from the Mavi Guesthouse’s tour book about the pervasiveness of Russian prostitutes (a.k.a. “natashas”) might be right on the mark, and the gambling parlor directly across the narrow street from our hotel room is a bit invasive. Nonetheless, Trabzon is a wonderful city, perhaps our favorite yet.

2006-06-16T01:16:00.000+03:00

Here are some pictures from our the last few days in Istanbul:

We rode trains around town, underground and above ground. Andy got the best haircut ever!! We had a Persian dance party with Nusheen and Nahid (the aforementioned Iranian women Sonja got to practice her Farsi with) and Martina (who is doing her thesis on women and citizenship in Turkey), all of whom are staying in our hostel.

Now we're off to Eastern Turkey, then to Georgia and Azerbaijan. It looks like we have to fly over Turkmenistan because the visas would take too long to get. Unfortunate set of circumstances. Sorry this post is so short. . . it's very late and we have to catch the train early tomorrow morning. We don't know when we'll have access to internet again, so it may be some time before we enter the blogosphere again.

Until then . . .

(P.S. Sorry for the bad blog layout, it's late)

2006-06-15T00:17:00.000+03:00

Yesterday, while our visas for Azerbaijan were being processed, we took the opportunity to visit Hagia Sophia, a Byzantine church constructed around 500 A.D. It was turned into a mosque around 1450 and a museum in the 1920s. The beauty of this structure, filled with both Christian and Muslim mosaics, was awe-inspiring; we'll let the photos try to do the experience some justice.

Our visit to the Grand Bazaar was also well worth it, considering that our feet were already tired from hours of standing. We plan on going back to this mega-souk (Arabic/Turkish/Persian for market) to do some more exploring as we only barely scratched the surface.

But today, today our journey has begun . . . or so says our new friend, the train-station oracle. His name is Ehdu (sp?). We were on our return trip from Levent, where we successfully picked up our Azerbaijan visas, and were checking out the train schedules, a little confused as to which train to take to the Turkmenistan Consulate tomorrow and which train to take East towards Georgia and Azerbaijan. In a small office at the end of the station was a desk marked “Tourist Information.” “Perfect,” we thought, “this may answer some questions.” The gracious Ehdu insisted we sit down and began to assess us with polite conversation. Instead of allowing us to ask our imperative questions, he gauged our life experience (quite accurately) and gave us small glimpses into his own understanding of life, culture, travel, and people. He was interrupted occasionally to answer trivial questions of other tourists (not worthy of his time?), direct people to the whirling dervish show happening nearby (these are on every corner in Istanbul), or to answer the phone or disappear behind a door only to return shortly with a mouth full of food. After quite some time, Ehdu served us tea and then sent us on our way, proclaiming, “Today, your journey begins!” So there you have it. We are still trying to decipher Edhu’s narrative revelation.
The Oracle at the Train Station

Azerbaijan Visa

2006-06-12T22:10:00.000+03:00

Awaking a bit earlier than usual, we headed out in search of the Azerbaijan Consulate, sure to be at least one bus ride plus one metro ride away. We have discovered something--Andy is having a harder time without coffee in the morning than Sonja!!! Goes to show that espresso (Sonja's usual morning caffeine dose) does not have that much caffeine, at least not compared to Andy's normal megacup of black joe. (Ha ha to all those friends who thought Sonja would have such a hard time going without her morning espresso. She's doing just fine on Turkish black tea!) Anyway, we left our home base of Sultanahmet for the first time with only an address and vague notion of the neighborhood where the Consulate resides.

The bus took us across the Golden Horn to Taksim Square, pictured here, where we decended into the Metro tunnels to take the train to Levent. Needless to say, there are 4 Levent neighborhoods. We just thought we'd start at the first one. That's as far as our limited knowldedge of Istanbul could take us, for our street maps only include up to Taksim Square. When we got off the Metro, we started wandering in one direction somewhat aimlessly, trying to convince each other to ask someone for directions. Somehow, Sonja, with her traveler's intuition, found the perfect shopkeeper to ask . . . in Turkish! "Nerede Sumbol Sokakki?" (We found out later the syntax was backwards.) Without hesitation, the kind gentleman took us to the back of the shops and pointed down the street, speaking in Turkish the whole time, signaling the directions. We were only two blocks away. In the middle of the residential neighborhood of Levent, between middle class homes and apartments, was a two story house with a guard post and flag out front. We circled around back, found the appropriate desk, waited our turn, filled out some paperwork, paid him some US cash ($40 each), and he told us to come back on Wednesday afternoon to pick up our passports with the visas included. Blind luck.

Andy caught Sonja in a chic pose waiting for the bus back to Sultanahmet.

2006-06-11T21:43:00.000+03:00

Another day as tourists! We went for a nice long walk to prepare for tomorrow's search for the Azerbaijan consulate.

View from the roof of the Mavi Guesthouse, where we are staying.

2006-06-10T16:59:00.000+03:00

Photo of a small neighborhood market where Sonja bought some strong Turkish tea to alleviate any caffeine withdrawals (although they haven't set in yet).

On day two, we decided to head out for visas but had to ask Ali, the hostel owner/director, for help with directions. He offered to call to check if they were open today and alas, they were not. Oh well, so we need a few days for rest anyways. Over the hostel's complimentary breakfast, we realized that the two older ladies staying in the hostel are Persian and Sonja decided to try out her language skills. It worked! A little, at least. Their English was still better than Sonja's Persian but it was fun to put a little Farsi to use. We discovered that they are here in Istanbul trying to get visas for Europe, Bulgaria is closest, or the states. One of the women's sisters lives in "Irangeles"/"Tehrangeles" but she can't get a US visa. They seem to not be eager to go back to Iran at all and even mentioned that it may be for the better if "Mr. Bush" decides to come to Iran like he has come to Iraq and Afghanistan. We were both a bit suprised at that, although Sonja has heard similar from other Iranians in Honolulu.

Andy is growing a beard (or trying it out as an option at least; it would eliminate the need to shave, but he's pessimistic it'll work and Sonja's not too sure about the whole thing). We had some good Turkish coffee today and found a "sweet!" pastry shop--I think we'll be going there for a mid-morning snack again tomorrow. The waiter was very talkative and teasing and seemed to think that Andy was a lady killer. (Sonja thinks its because of the "unshaven" look.) He tried to read Sonja's coffee grounds, after seeing that she was trying to read them herself, and told us that Andy would find a new girl. We both laughed, thinking that he's just trying to get Sonja to leave the lady killer for a sweet Turkish man. Next, we wandered around the neighborhood, first finding a residential area with locals hanging out and doing business in the streets.

Now we have returned to the hostel to escape the heat and get this blog thing published! And Andy finally gets to watch a little World Cup, too!

Istanbul

2006-06-10T15:57:00.000+03:00

After 20 some hours of flying (from Seattle to Toronto to London to Istanbul) we landed safely at Ataturk Airport in Istanbul, Turkey. The visa line was long, but it moved fast and we paid our 40 dollars to the official who didn't even open our passports to check our identity before inserting the sticker visa. We found our baggage and the the man holding a piece of paper that said "Andrew Rick." We were hurried into an airport shuttle bus with four other young travelers and headed off through traffic to Sultanahmet, the "old" city, i.e. tourist destination. Once we reached the city wall, the shuttle weaved at break-neck speed, free of traffic at last, through the tiny streets as children, women, kittens, and men jumped to the sidewalk and out of the way. As soon as we reached our bed, we crashed, exhausted.

The first day was spent in a bit of a daze. Sultanahmet is a haven for backpackers and tourists. Every other building is a hostel/hotel or tourist agency. Before getting down to business, we decided to be tourists ourselves (we were still too out of it to do any visa hunting, anyways, since that would require going out of walking distance of our hostel). US dollars were exchanged for Turkish lira and then we spent far too much for a cup of espresso. (Thank goodness, however, that they have changed the Turkish lira by eliminating the many unnecessary zeroes. By the old system, one US dollar would equal something like 1,500,000 Turkish lira. Now it is simple--one US dollar equals 1.5 Turkish lira.) Next, we wandered around the grounds of the Topkapi Palace, looking up at the gilded domes and blue and white tiles. We paid extra to see the Harem, which was worth it. It seemed to be the most lavishly decorated; it makes sense since it was the actual "home" part. Some pictures from the Topkapi Palace follow below.