Teşekkür Notnedneb!

This morning, you could have asked two people what I thought about my trip to Turkey, and if those two people were Whitters and Grant, they would have both told that if I could have gotten on a plane RIGHT THEN to come home, I would have - and they would both be right.

That being said, I'm not getting on a plane or even making myself feel better by looking at one-way plane tickets. It got better. So don't freak out.

Last night, after spending the day in the most touristy part of town (my grammar is AWESOME here - I feel like I should email this to Micah and have him correct it before I post), and having a hellish dinner, I was pissed. P.I.S.S.E.D. Maybe other people have had other experiences here, maybe I just need tougher skin, or maybe I need to better roll with it, but a word for women thinking about visiting Istanbul, specifically the area around Sultanahmet (where we are staying, and where many of the tourist attractions are) - DON'T COME WITHOUT A GUY. I never thought I would say that. Even when I was told that (sorry V.V.), I thought, "surely someone who has traveled by herself will be fine." I was wrong. I also did not want to admit that it was getting to me. This is what I emailed Grant last night, "We would have a great time in this city, and, as much as I didn't want it to be true, I think having a guy with us at all times would make it an easier place to travel. Two very American looking girls get harassed to just look at a menu, to sit down and eat, to order more food, to order expensive wine, to buy things in stores, to follow men into their stores that are blocks away, to pay for a tour guide... it is overwhelming me more than I thought it would. I feel safe, but uncomfortable. I say "no thanks" all the time. Maybe I'll get used to it."

But I wasn't getting used to it. Dinner was the last straw. All over the street there are men who try to get you to come into their shop/restaurant/cafe - they say "Hello - how are you? Where are you from? You look hungry." And they don't shut up. Ever. Even if you ignore them, which just makes them follow you. Even if you say "no thanks" which just makes them mock you. Grant asked when I was going to go all Court on them and say "Fuck off." I'm about there.

But back to dinner. One of the annoying men told us we could have free apple tea with dinner, and said they had an English menu. After looking at the prices on the menu (a lesson we learned after the over-priced lunch), we sat down there. The waiter thought we were with the CIA, and he was nice, but the menu was not in English. Whit ordered Iskender kebap - lamb with tomato sauce, yogurt, and, in this case, french fries mixed right in. Yum. I couldn't find what I was looking for, so I just asked if I could have lamb and yogurt - A PRETTY TRADITIONAL DISH. I got lamb - no yogurt - but it was good. The bill came, and EVEN THOUGH NO DISH ON THE MENU WAS OVER $12 LIRA, mine was $25 lira (about $20 US dollars). (To put it in perspective, Whit's dish was $10 lira.) What. the. hell?!? Also, our tea wasn't free. And I feel so fucking uncomfortable that I don't say anything.

Sultanahmet - it looks pretty, but we do not get along:

We go back to the hostel, and I brood and let it fester, and break down about how we are treated, and spend as much money on a phone call as I did for dinner. This morning wasn't much better, and after just wanting tea, and being harassed and haggled over and over again - I HAD ENOUGH. I started crying, told Whit I wanted to go home, that I hated the way we were treated, and probably freaked her out. I thought I might just spend the rest of the time reading on the roof of the hostel. But she reminded me that our first day was better, when we were with Ben, and that at least we were meeting up with him soon.

AND THAT'S WHERE THE TITLE OF THIS POST COMES IN. I LOVE BEN DENTON (or Notnedneb as I call him - that's his name backwards), and teşekkür means thank you. He saved my trip, and has convinced me that it will get better.

This is how I felt when Ben encountered us:

When he met up with us, he could tell I hated it, so he got us out of the Sultanahmet area, and took us to the Grand Bazaar, where I expected to be harassed. With Ben, though, they listened when he said no. And even though he tried to sell me to one of the salesmen for $200 US dollars, I still loved it. We had a great $3 lira lunch, and decided to find the Spice Bazaar. We accidentally ended up in a type of pet's bazaar, with heaps of dog food, and live roosters, and leeches - and questioned the types of spices they must use, until we found our way in the real bazaar. It was pretty and fun and not overwhelming - Whit and I bought apple tea and Turkish Delight (Micah, that might turn into a nickname for one of Whit's suitors).

Notnedneb & Whitters at the Grand Bazaar:

Whitters & I at the Spice Bazaar:

Then we walked across a bridge over the Bosphorus, and took the metro and bus to see where Ben lived in Boğaziçi.

He took us down steep hills to Bebek, to a Starbucks on the waterfront.

It was perfect. We took a taxi back to his dorm (Super Dorm!), and then went to dinner and to the nargile bar. His Istanbul is a much happier place.

Whit and I conquered the bus and metro to get back by ourselves, and tomorrow we are going on a Bosphorus cruise and to the Istanbul Modern Museum of Art.

This is the longest post ever - thanks for staying with it and reading it if you made it this far. That's kind of how I feel about Turkey.