{"id":185,"date":"2008-07-11T01:52:04","date_gmt":"2008-07-11T07:52:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/?p=185"},"modified":"2008-07-11T11:18:03","modified_gmt":"2008-07-11T17:18:03","slug":"turkey-turkey-turkey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/?p=185","title":{"rendered":"Turkey Turkey Turkey"},"content":{"rendered":"

I have to confess that even after\u00a0commiserating with\u00a0Jim’s last blog about our\u00a0uncertain situation, we are still managing to enjoy ourselves while we wait in Turkey.\u00a0 Not that the last few days have not had their fa\u0131r share of emotional ups and downs (with Nakia shouldering the brunt).\u00a0 Here’s a brief (ha ha) recap of our last few days’ experiences:<\/p>\n

June 26, Thursday — After spending the night on the sidewalk with other would-be travellers to Bulgaria, Nakia waits in line while we wait on the curb until 12 p.m. when they tell us there will be no more people admitted today.\u00a0 “Come earlier tomorrow,” the guard says.\u00a0 Peter doesn’t appreciate that comment and points out clearly that it would be difficult to come any earlier as we SLEPT OVER THERE ON THE SIDWALK!\u00a0 His persuasive techniques coupled with Nakia’s threat to get her money back finally allow Nakia to get in to apply.\u00a0 We sigh with relief and celebrate with icecream and pizza–we have to wait for a week.<\/p>\n

June 27 – July 2 — We spend the weekend hanging out with our new Turkish friends and playing music on the street in Taksim Istanbul without complaining when people throw coins in our open guitar case.\u00a0 At first we are angry about the week wait, but we realize the signs are lining up leading us to focus on music:\u00a0<\/p>\n

1.) We meet a student named Fatih who hears our music and tells us we have to play on the street!<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

2.) We are staying in a house full of artists and musicians for the week, who introduce us to their friends who are also street musicians.\u00a0 We play with them on Saturday night and watch how it’s done.<\/p>\n

3.) We have nothing to do but wait in Istanbul for seven days.<\/p>\n

4.) Our first attempt to play on the street yields genuine interest, good conversations, and around $100 USD in change and bills!\u00a0 We are elated…<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Our debut on European streets: Taxim, \u0130stanbul<\/em>\u00a0<\/p>\n

July 3, Thursday 12 p.m.\u00a0— We go to pick up Nakia’s Bulgarian visa only to find out they have denied it.\u00a0 She tries to ask but gets no explanation — only doors closed on her, literally.\u00a0<\/p>\n

We sit with thick anxiety as we brainstorm our options over lunch.\u00a0 After making several calls and spending some time online, we decide to leave Istanbul for the border town of Edirne at 5:45 p.m.\u00a0 By 7:30 we are out of the city and shopping in a small town for our usual bread, yogurt, and\u00a0jam d\u0131nner with tomatoes and cucumbers when we are invited to stay at a house.\u00a0 Doa, a twenty-eight year old career woman with great English, invites us to her beautiful country home suggesting we can camp in the garden.\u00a0 We have a hot shower, tea, pleasant conversation, and breakfast with the Dad (an uncommonly proud Turk with a warm heart) before we continue into a beautiful sunny summer day.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/p>\n

July 4 – July 7 — We pedal up and down big hills.\u00a0 The first day we are hailed by some construction workers while we stop to gaze out across the Black Sea.\u00a0 They give us three of the “construct\u0131on worker lunches” — ch\u0131cken, yogurt, peach juice, bread, rice pilaf — and big smile.\u00a0 We eat with a couple of them and are on our up-and-down way.\u00a0 We camp in the woods.\u00a0 Then we camp in a field.\u00a0 A friendly cafe owner gives us utensils to eat our watermelon, coffee, and finally Turkish books as a souvenir (mine is seriously bigger than most Bibles but I managed to stuff it in my pack after smiling thank you).<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

July 8, Tuesday — We make it to Edirne border town just before 12 p.m., when we understand the Bulgarian consulate there closes for applications.\u00a0 We are hopeful after Netzy’s conversation with the Consul a few days earlier that Nakia’s visa will be no more than a two day affair.\u00a0 I call at 11 a.m. along the road to make sure they know we’re coming, but am warned that no visa can be issued if Nakia doesn’t hold a visa for the next country on our journey.\u00a0 Boom–p\u0131t \u0131n the stomach.<\/p>\n

At the consulate the story is the same.\u00a0 We spend the day trying to call and do research about our opt\u0131ons.\u00a0 If not Bulgaria, then what?\u00a0 Greece says you must be a Turkish citizen to get a visa from them at their consulate.\u00a0 Germany says the same.\u00a0 We are tired and frustrated, but not without hope.\u00a0 I am reminded of a parable Jesus tells from Luke 18 about a persistent widow who gets justice finally from an uncaring judge.\u00a0 The moral of the story is to be persistent in prayer, because God is not uncaring like the judge.\u00a0 We pray.\u00a0 A few moments later, half-way through lunch we are greeted by a middle-aged man with a moustache and a good-natured frown.\u00a0 He speaks to us in Turkish and we respond as best we can.\u00a0 He is interested in our musical \u0131nstruments, and before I know it he has me by the arm and is towing me across the square toward some unknown destination.\u00a0 “See you later,” I call to Nakia and Peter as I am hurried away.\u00a0 The man turns out to be a music shop owner who wants us to play at a bar, I think.\u00a0 My Turkish is slowly improving out of necessity–but cannot actually be called Turkish because I can make no real phrases.\u00a0 After about an hour I figure out that we should meet him at 7:00 p.m. and call a bar we will go to later to play music.\u00a0 Okay–it’s like a scavenger hunt, and we’re getting the clues.\u00a0 “Go to the music shop at seven and get the next instruct\u0131ons.”\u00a0 Seven hours later at 10 p.m. we are playing completely plugged-in at a music pub, and people are digging us.\u00a0 We meet a young man who is also a musician and speaks good English.\u00a0 He helps us find a host family.<\/p>\n

July 9, Wednesday — Nakia and Peter manage to get in to the Bulgarian Consulate (a significant achievement in itself in our experience) and apply for the “qu\u0131ck” visa–2 days– for 120 Euro.\u00a0 Ouch.\u00a0 But this is our path and time now is of the essence.\u00a0<\/p>\n

We are able to spend the day using internet at our friends office\u00a0to contact anyone we can think of who might be able to pull some strings — Bulgarian officials, US senators, Moms… you name it.\u00a0 We wait to hear the news on Friday.<\/p>\n

\u00a0July 11, Friday (a.m.) — I finish up this blog in the apartment of the Kahya’s as we wait for breakfast and wait for 12 noon to find out about the elusive Bulgarian Visa.\u00a0 We have been treated as family here, having a place to wash clothes, sleep, shower, and sharing traditional Turkish meals with the family twice a day.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>The Kahya family: Naciye, our adopted mother, Volkan (far R), A\u015fkim a close friend, and Gurkan (back center)<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0It has been emotionally draining\u00a0turning through hope and uncertainty like the pages of the latest Harry Potter novel, but there is this thread of glistening hope and direction and blessing–as strong as steel–leading us along the way.\u00a0 Whatever happens today, I am grateful to be a witness and recipient of such generous providence and unexpected adventure here in Turkey.\u00a0<\/p>\n

As for our next step… TO BE CONTINUED ~~<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I have to confess that even after\u00a0commiserating with\u00a0Jim’s last blog about our\u00a0uncertain situation, we are still managing to enjoy ourselves while we wait in Turkey.\u00a0 Not that the last few days have not had their fa\u0131r share of emotional ups and downs (with Nakia shouldering the brunt).\u00a0 Here’s a brief (ha ha) recap of our […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-185","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-drews-posts","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/185","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=185"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/185\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=185"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=185"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/0708.fueledbyrice.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=185"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}