Paying Cash at the Kasa

I love paying cash for things in Turkey and this evening rewarded me with the most memorable experience to date. Whether the store is a large national chain or a small mom and pop organization, neither ever seems to be able to make change. A 100, 50 or 10 lire note are all the same in terms of probability that the store will be able to make change. Be it a store cash register, or shoe box, or owner's pant pocket there is never enough change and the clerk usually has go on a treasure hunt.

Tonight I needed new printer cartridge so I walked across the street to Tekno SA, a large Turkish "Best Buy" type computer/appliance store. I took the escalator to the second floor - this is a big store - and was greeted by a cute/handsomeish young computer geek who said the obligatory "Welcome" (Hos Geldiniz) and I replied with appropriate and  polite "Happy to be here" (Hos bulduk) which is really a joke because there are a million other places I would rather be at this moment. Anyway, having bought many ink cartridges here before, I marched over to the display and picked up the HP301 black and looked around for an open Kasa (cashier). I was proud of myself for remembering not to take the escalator to the first for a Kasa because apparently, I need to pay for this upstairs..

The store was not very busy and I spotted an empty Kasa across the room with a clerk sitting at her cash register talking on the phone. I walked up to the counter, placed my box on the shelf and smiled. Never pulling the phone from her ear, she gestured wildly and pointed back to the side of the room from whence I'd just come, and spewed a litany of words. I interpreted her message to mean, "Go back to the cashier over there. It's their department and I only ring up headphones and cameras." But, maybe she said, "Can't you tell I'm in the middle of an important phone conversation with my fiance' with whom I've been engaged for six-years?" I never can tell because my Turkish just isn't very good outside of the context of taxis and homework excuses.

The cashier to which she'd pointed was, unfortunately unmanned (or unwomaned..I didn't know yet.)  I waited patiently for several minutes all the while watching  her phone conversation from across the room. I decided to have some fun.  I waited until she looked up (she was still talking on the phone) and I did the universal "throw up of my arms, point at the empty Kasa, and helpless "What-can an innocent shopper do to get some service around here?" shrug. I hoped she would interpret it correctly and get off her butt, put down her phone and help me. She interpreted half of it correctly. She did get off her butt and she did march across the room. But instead of helping me, she marched into the stock room, grabbed the cute little computer geek who had welcomed me to the store, and told him to get out and help me. (Her phone never left her ear.) Unfortunately, what I could tell, but she couldn't tell because multi-tasking is difficult with a phone glued to your ear, was that he was in the middle of helping another customer.

Cute computer geek politely explained to the customer he was helping  that he would be "right back" and he kindly rang up my purchase. I handed him a 100 lire note (about $60  for a $30 purchase) thinking this was a big enough store and late enough in the day to get me some smaller bills. (Why do the ATM's only disburse these 100's anyway?..They're impossible to spend.) Well, I was wrong. Cute computer geek handed me part of the change. Then he walked to another cash register, opened it and dug through the bills to no avail. (I guess they don't worry about employees having balanced cash drawers.) Next  (and this took a lot of courage) he walked back to phone-glued-to-ear girl and opened her drawer. No luck. After this, he gave me a polite wave and  started jogging down the escalator stairs to the first floor. After what seemed like 5 minutes his head reappeared as he jogged back up the escalator waving the correct change in his hands.

Eighteen months ago this kind of service would have driven me crazy, but today I know to expect nothing to go as expected. The only bummer in this entire transaction was that I couldn't communicate to cute geek that I appreciated his super pleasant, helpful demeanor and that I felt phone-girl should be fired. Unfortunately, based upon my observations of Turkish management styles, phone girl is probably his boss.

Turkish Folk Music and Raki - A Relaxing Combination

I met a colleague in Alsancak and shared a taxi to a restaurant located in the dark, back alley of an old abandoned  industrial zone. I'm not sure I would have left the cab on my own but with her guidance and assurance, we walked into the restaurant/night club where several of the high school teachers had just started gathering for an end-of-term dinner that our principal had organized.

The walls were covered with little ledges holding real lit candles. The only additional illumination in the room came from the muted, subdued colors of the multi-coloredTurkish glass lamps. The quarter tones and arrhythmic beats of Turkish music filled the room.We were transported to an older period and time in Turkish culture.

I was seated between the principal and a very nice science teacher. I felt bad for the science teacher because I can't speak much Turkish and she can't speak much English. But, the principal can speak English and I noticed the raki glasses on the table so I figured that after awhile it wouldn't matter much whether we could talk or not. I could tell everyone was in the mood to unwind after a long semester.

The table was filled with Turkish mezza (appetizers), an important part of any Turkish meal, but especially one that includes raki. I was determined to taste everything and drink very slowly, following each sip of raki with a large drink of water. Having only drunk raki a handful of times, I think it's effects can be very deceiving. They say you should always see the waiter break the seal of the raki bottle or the drink will make you blind. I think that's just a "saying" to make sure you keep track of how many bottles have been opened. But my past experience with raki is that it makes both hearing and seeing difficult. The food, water and pacing are very important.

Not long into the dinner a group of musicians appeared on the stage: two violins, three percussionists, a clarinet and what looks likes an auto-harp. The musician playing the "auto-harp" has picks on most of his fingers and changes the key of the strings often by sliding a lever and using a tuning fork on the pins similar to what a piano tuner would do.

The interesting thing about Turkish folk music is that almost everyone over here (Malatya and Izmir included) knows all the words to most of the traditional Turkish folk songs. They can even tell you what region the song is from. And, each region has it's own style of dance that goes with the song, and most women can show you that style, too. The only equivalent I can think of in American music is Christmas music and not everyone can sing those songs either. Granted, when I was a child we were taught American folk songs at school, but I think we've lost that tradition in our curriculum. Most of the music in the text books available to me appeared to be "world music" or "pop music". And, I can't think of a single place where I could go and find Americans singing along except maybe in the south, Nashville for example. And, because I don't know country music very well, I wouldn't be able to join in.

But, I digress...perhaps the raki is still "talking"  In conclusion,the music, the singing, the dancing, and the raki made for a memorable, relaxing, enjoyable end to the semester and beginning of the holiday break.

Today's Walk

After I was "rejected" from getting a doctor's note today, I took a long walk down random streets. First I saw this man selling chunks of bread from these giants loaves. It looked delicious so I bought a chunk. The size of the loaf is deceiving. Even when I thought I was just buying a little, it ended up weighing 1.58 kilograms. That's like about 3 pounds of bread for a little less than $2.00. Thank goodness I have a freezer and a place to exercise.

These two horses live in this little field about 1/4 mile from my apartment. I'm sure I saw the white horse running free several weeks ago down the 6 lane divided highway just behind where I was standing to snap this photo. Either he found his way home or his someone brought him back. It would have caused some major injuries had he and a speeding vehicle collided.

These carriages are in the same field as the horses, separated only by what looks to me like a gypsy shack. 50 years ago, people traveled around Bostanli, the town several kilometers from my apartment with these carriages. It's still possible to ride a carriage through town, kind of like riding through Central Park in NYC and the fee is very minimal, even less than a taxi ride I think.

Above is the view of my apartments from the bus stop near my house. Because everyone jaywalks to catch the bus, the city put in a nice gravel path lined with shrubs. We still run across 6 lanes of traffic to catch the bus but what we lack in safety we gain in beauty.

To the right is a picture a a new pedestrian path being constructed on a very busy thoroughfare. What my camera didn't capture is the 12x12 in gap between concrete slabs. I nearly fell in during broad daylight. I wonder who failed to cross the gaps at night?

(On a side note, I think this is a bigger safety concern than my doctor's note, or lack thereof.)