lazy sunday

I basically just chilled at the house all weekend...last weekend I went to the ex-pat bar and got SHITFACED, so I decided to lay low this week.
Its been nice to veg out and to not feel like I've got a ton of reading to do or something. Even if it isnt rigidly kept to 40 hours, I think I'm starting to look forward to being back in a schedule where you go home at the end of the day and you leave work at work...as opposed to grad school, where even when you are chilling out or having fun, there is always this nagging in the back of your skull, some itch from some lobe at the base of your brain, where you know there is still a ton of reading to do, that that paper is due next week. And you'd be in so much better shape next week if you were working on it right now. Can't even enjoy a good drunk like that. Or sleeping in. God bless an internship for guilt-free sleeping in on the weekend! I don't even have a dog to walk these days ( GODDAMN, I miss that jowl-faced beast. Sigh.)
Anyways. Today I chilled all morning. Made coffee and read my book....fiction! Gasp! (science- fiction, no less!). Ender's Shadow. Orson Scott Card. I read Ender's Game in Turkey and it was good.
So anyways. Got restless and me and Leslie decided to get out of the house and go shopping/ explore our neightborhood. We found a really cheap place on the edge of a richer neighborhood, but we've been just straight to work and back, so I hadn't really seen much. Walked up the street and just started popping into shops. L is on a mission for a good pea-coat or something in black and some more shoes. And just clothes shopping in general.
I need more dress pants for work. Maybe another tie and a couple of sweaters to go over my dress shirts. I haven't had much luck yet. Armenia is funny. Commodities vs domestic product. Some things, like street food, vodka and rent are super cheap. And then other things that have to be brought into the country are crazy expensive. It will be 150 dram (less than $0.50) for a slice of 'armenian pizza' but then I can't find dress pants for under $50 bucks anywhere. When I first arrived, I found a little shop selling mens dress stuff and cut a deal with the guy by buying 5 dress shirts and 2 ties (my entire wardrobe, now). But the fucking dress pants are so damned expensive. I've been trying to pop into stores whenever I get the chance. But I just can't bear to drop more than 15,000 Armenian dram (the currency) on pants...(18,000 dram is about $50). And most of the stuff I've found (for fifty bucks, mind you) is cheap-shit-made-in-a-chinese-sweatshop. So I was very excited today when we wert into an expensive looking shop so L could price the coats, and I found a pair of powder grey dress slacks for 12,000 dram. Only one pair in my size, but they are really nice and its right up the street so I'll try back later this week. Up til now, I had 5 dress shirts ( its a 5 day workweek, you know?) but heh heh...only 2 pair of pants. I figured I could get away with that for like a week. 2 pushin it. But its gotten to the point where I need to buy some fucking pants. So. Huzzah! I'll look like a little bit less of a schlub.
Just sucks. Everyone dresses so nicely here. I don't know how they do it. All my shit back home has stains and wrinkles all over it. In Austin, you just don't need to care too much. Not cool. But here. I stick out like a sore thumb enough as it is with red hair and a beard. I would hazard to say that 97% of Armenian men are clean shaven. And 70% of the other 3% are over the age of 60. But I just can't do it. Can't shave every day. Not an option.

So that was my day.
P.S. I made an amazing lentil soup this weekend. First attempt. Glad to have that in my repertoire.

daytrip to the border

So today was interesting.
A consultant/ rep from UN headquarters (Geneva, Switzerland) came out for a site visit to the Armenian offices to research the possible start of a new program.
CTA stands for Community Technology Access. Its a program that started with 3 pilots, 2 in Bangladesh and one in Rwanda in refugee camps. The central goal of the program is improving employment options among refugee populations through access to and education regarding technology.
Basically, they build a solar-powered, low-energy computer lab in a refugee camp in a way-rural part of a country with a refugee population, where employment problems and technology access are the worst. Cool, right?
So the HQ rep came out to do a site visit at a group of villages way out in the mountains, near the Azeri border. And I got to go! It was about 2 hours away, on the other side of Lake Sevan:



























It was me and Leslie and the IT staff (Tighram- isn't that an awesome name?), one of the other support staff, the HQ lady and the driver. Our UNHCR office has 3 full time drivers to bring staff to these remote sites. The agency has 3 SUVs for the snowy, mountainous, windy roads.

The "highway" out of Yerevan is windy but wide. There is enough traffic that despite the fact that they are never plowed, most of the snow is melted off regularly. About an hour out of the city, we turned off into the mountains and the road got curvier, slushier and steeper. Switchbacks through 3 inches of snow, passing beat up old Ladas up and down the mountain. I tried to respectfully not grip the handle anxiously. The ride was rough, but I gotta say, all of the drivers for the UN that have driven me are excellent. I would probably trust them in a racecar. This is their job. And the fucking cars are tricked out with secondary high-volume fuel tanks and these HUGE dielsel engines that just trudge up and down these mountains.

So anyways. We get to the first village and stop at the community center, which was the prospective site. Village of 500 people. They have 2 computers in the community center, with slow internet. The whole population are ethnic Amrenian ex-refugees that fled Azerbaijan during the war, about 20 years ago. Unemployment is sky-high. The community center may have been the only indoor plumbing. Most people heat their houses with firewood illegally cut from the outlying forests, off the hills. Its the only option. That or freeze to death. Its illegal because they clear the hills above their houses of trees, and then there's a landslide after the first melt and their house is destroyed. It happens every year and we saw several houses on the road to the next village that were either flattened or knocked off at a 45 degree angle by tumbling boulders.
We walked in and were met with about half a dozen ladies and two college age girls. Through the translator they explained the situation, what internet was used for, what they think they could do with more technology access/ etc. It was really hard to be a passive observer for this, because the villagers were kind of desperately pleading their case and the UNHCR HQ staff has explicit orders to be looking for sites with specific plans to develop income-production (bring money into the villages through the use of the internet). She basically didn't want to hear that "We've been able to get back in touch with family we left behind in Azerbaijan 20 years ago" or anything like that. It felt cold. But it makes sense. They want to fund programs that are going to help to bring people out of poverty through income production. Livelihood. That was the word of the day. Which I am actually going to be focusing on in my internship, so its exciting. But it was hard to see this rich Swiss woman with big diamond rings just seem to be not feelin these villagers.

We go to the next village. More of the same, but a bigger village, more like 1,200 people. 2 more computers. Poverty. Chickens in the street. Water piped in from the stream. The stream into which their sewage is fed, via outhouses. It was hard to see. Hard to look this desperation straight in the eye. But it was good to see why I am here. It was a moment of clarity. This is what I am doing. This is what I am trying to make better. Yes, I'll be in an office most of the day. Pushing paper, writing programs, writing grants. But it sounds like I'll be out in the field somewhat regularly, which I am really glad for. I think its going to serve to keep me rooted and help me remember what the fuck I came out here for.

Third village. More. 700 people. 2 computers. The rep almost chastised the guy who was running the computer lab for not having it more organized. He has like 150 school-age kids that want to learn how to use this computer. So he has them come in groups of 15 for computer lessons. The rep asked why he had them come in groups of 15. Said that nobody would learn anything, that they need to come in fours and pair up on each computer. And I wanted to interject and say "Yeah sure. Sounds good. Only there are 150 fucking kids and 2 computers. Pull your head out of your ass, lady." I said nothing. Not my place. I am the silent intern. At least in that moment. I'll bring it up in the meeting on Monday. Anyways. Yeah. She sucked. She looked totally grossed out to be there. Bummed.

So after this, they bring us to a house. We go in. Its the niece of one of the Armenian woman that organizes the community center. We come in. And then I realize they are bringing us in for lunch. The room with the wood stove was warm. The rest of the house was unheated. 30 degrees outside. Her and 4 kids. Her husband is a migrant worker living in Russia and sending as much money home as he can. The entire meal was homemeade. Homemade vodka. Homemade plum juice. Homemade cheese. Boiled beef. Home-picked peppers with garlic (amazing). Home-picked cabbage. Home-baked bread. Sliced hardened pork fat (gotta keep yer calories up in the winter), pickled tomatoes and boiled potatoes. The food was excellent, but the whole time, I'm thinking that this crew of 9 is going to eat what her family could live off of for a week. I know this just happens. Its a cultural thing that you have to feed guests. Most all of eastern europe, if not the entire poverty-stricken world is like that. The less you have, the more you share, I guess.

P.S. I need to learn how to still my own fruit vodka. Homemade vodka is amazing. Seriously. Straight up. No chaser. Armenian's love a good toast and there were many. About the hope for the future. About new friends from the rest of the world. About how far we have come. About how bad it used to be and no matter how bad it can get...it broke my fuckin heart. I want to cry right now thinking about it. She says 'We don't have much. Life is hard. Its not easy in this village. But this one is for the Haitians, who have it much worse right now' AURGHHHH!!!! Knife in the heart!

All in all, today was very emotionally draining. I'm just tapped. Exhausted. But I feel like I've finally arrived. And I feel really motivated to do whatever I can while I am here. Armenia, you've got me for 4 months. I'm gonna do my part. I can't fix it. But I know why I'm trying to.


The house where we ate lunch.

the bathroom is warm, but the tiles are cold...

So when I wake up...the house keeps warm enough. My room doesn't get too hot, even though I keep the heater on. But the kitchen and the bathroom are downright toasty. I usually read a bit in the evening at the kitchen table or drink a Kotayk beer and watch an episode of season 1 of Dexter on my laptop (thank my mother for this new addiction addition). And the bathroom is nice enough. Only there is no shower stall, per se. There is a screen hanging across the middle of the square-shaped bathroom. The whole room is tile. One side of the screen has the toilet and sink. The other side of the screen is the shower. One of the moveable-kind you see in europe, hanging off the wall. The floor is slightly concave, just barely, so the shower dribbles toward the drain in the middle of the room. There is a broom handle with a large squeegee on the end of it to squeegee the floor after you shower so the next person that comes in to pee or brush their teeth doesn't get all soaked or slip. So you squeegee the floor, dragging the water toward the center, into the drain. Thats all fine. I can do that. I don't even miss having a shower door. And the soap here is pretty good. And like I said, the bathroom is real warm. So thats nice.
But showering itself is the fun part.
Hot water heaters in Armenia...hmmm...how to put it?...they umm...leave a little to be desired (for an American, I concede). The water is very hot. Can get blisteringly so. But there is very little controlling the temperature. And the hot water runs out. Like in 4 minutes. If you run the water at a high pressure? 2 minutes. So what that means for ol' E.J. is that I try to get my body soaked within those first four minutes. Then I turn the shower off and soap up. I think my father called this an Army shower. I guess the army might have rationed water? Anyways. You have to let the water warm up again before rinsing. And if you keep it running, it doesn't warm up. Just gets colder an colder. Fortunately, it only takes about a minute and a half for the water heater to heat new water up to a decent temperature. But if you can imagine, despite the fact that I've said twice that the room heats up nice, the tile floor always stays nice and cold. So now, you may not be surprised that I seldom require the full minute and a half to actually soap up. More like a frantic 45 seconds. Try as I might, I just can't get my brain to convince my body that soaping up faster will not make the water get hotter faster. So then, after 45 seconds, I am soaped up. Bar of soap back in its tray. And nothing to do but wait for the water to warm up...

Now, a lesser man might admit defeat. Allow this daily experience to demoralize him. Dread the shower. Avoid it. Start smelling worse and worse with the lack of self-care.
Now I can't say I don't hesitate before committing to the deed some mornings. And have no doubt that I oftentimes spend this moment of hesitation whistfully thinking to the next long, hot shower I will experience, which will likely be in June, under Payton's rainforest-rains showerhead thingamabob, many thousands of miles away in Boston, Mass.
But I digress! So what is the solution? How do you spend this second 45 seconds? How do you get through this daily trial? you ask...
Well, on my second day in the apartment, I was struck by genius. Simple. I make a pot of English Breakfast tea each morning before the shower. My saving grace, a cup of hot tea, sits expectantly next to my toothbrush through the first 4 minutes and 45 seconds of the shower, ready to save the day with its steamy, caffeinated goodness. Now, I admit, embracing a hot glass container in a soapy hand, whilst in the bare no less, might not be the safest thing to do every morning. Potential for the slipping and the breaking and the burning and the cutting...OI VEY!
But its the best plan I've come up with so far. Let me know if you've got anything better.

UNHCR

So here’s the update. Day three of my internship. Its pretty awesome. I feel like James Bond.
The UN building is in the main square of the city. Republic Square, if yer keeping tabs on me in GoogleMaps. The UN building is maybe 4 stories tall. Surrounded by a big steel fence, painted UN blue. We walk up to the gate, and the security guy buzzes us through the gate. He’s chillin in the guard station behind bullet-proof glass. That’s security clearance 1. You’re in the gate. I then walk up to the building and enter, up the stairs. There is another guard behind a window in the entryway, also chillin behind bullet –proof glass. Watching the security camera screens. He buzzes us through the main solid steel door. Heavy as hell. In you go. That’s security clearance 2. The main entryway is impressive. Straight ahead is the main conference room. Double glass doors with the emblem of the UN in blue across them. Armenian flag to the left of the doors, the UN flag to the right. The UNHCR office is up on the second floor. Keypad with a entry code on it to get in, in the morning. That’s security clearance 3. Badass.
So, our shared office for the interns is alright. I get a computer, so that’s cool. Not much privacy, but hey…I’m an intern, right. There’s one Armenian intern that shares the office with us. He’s part time. Works as a security guard to pay the bills.Nice enough guy. There are 14 people in the office. 2/3 of them are Armenian. The rest are European UN folks. Everyone seems super nice. Its good to be here.
I wanted to clean up, so I went and got a haircut and a shave before my first day. The hair is short, a little longer on top. The beard is trimmed close and manicured. I think I look like a banker or a fascist. Untrustworthy in either case. Went out and bought 5 dress shirts, a pair of slacks (I need a few more) and a pair of ties this week. I need some nerdy cardigans to go over my dress shirts. And I’m even thinking about buying a businessman-type button down charcoal long coat. I know, I know. Holy shirt. Transformation! Yikes! Eurotrash! Next thing, I’m going to be drinking martinis with an ascot on, listening to the Scorpions or shitty Russian techno. But you don’t understand. Everyone here dresses well. They look good. And more important than that, they look like they feel comfortable looking good. So I guess I’m a little intimidated. But I gotta admit…in the morning, going in, all dressed up. Yeah. Believe it. I look damn good. I mean, I’d do me. Ha.
So the internship itself. We are working on a bunch of stuff. Or rather, they are. And I’m trying to learn about it. Different refugee populations. Keeping up files. Monitoring of different shelters around the country. Border station monitoring. Training Border Guards in effectively recognizing when someone is a refugee. I think its all super interesting and important. A lot of work revolving around Sexual and Gender-based Violence. SGBV. Domestic violence is much more common and less spoken of out here. So theres that.

The UN building has a cafeteria where we have been eating lunch every day. It may get old eventually, but so far, so good. They have a ‘salad bar’ of pickled beets, sauerkraut, shredded carrot with vinegar, pickles and some other stuff. You don’t see a lot of fresh greens in this part of the world this time of year. The Main courses are barbecue chicken, baked gyro meat and sliced potatoes, mushroom soup, borchte, a kind of cross between stir fried rice and rice pilaf, an Armenian kind of Chicken Cordon Bleu, creamed spinach, collard greens and many other things. Its heavy, but its good and it seems pretty diverse. Cheap, too. We can usually eat lunch there for under $3. I had dinner last night for $1.25. Three kind of Armenian ground beef, pepper and onion quesadillas.
The beer isn’t amazing, isn’t bad. We went to an expat bar last night that seemed pretty cool and they had some good looking drinks. One was vodka, blue caracauo, cranberry juice and sprite. I might try that some night. The screwdrivers are cheap of course, as there is tons of vodka. I also tried the Armenian national drink the other night, which is Armenian cognac. Apparently Stalin used to send 20 cases of it to Churchill every year.
Also, I heard a good Armenian joke last night. It helps to know that you are taking your life in your hands everytime you cross the street here. There are very few traffic laws that are consistently adhered to… (translated into English):
An Armenian man in Yerevan is driving fast down the street. He blows through a red light and an Armenian Police officer pulls him over. When the cop walks up, he says to the reckless driver “Didn’t you see the Red Light back there?!?”
The driver says “I saw the light. I didn’t see you.”
That is all. Someday I’ll get around to describing my new apartment!

PHOTO DUMP! PHOTO DUMP!
The following are pictures from our tour of churches and monasteries in the outlying countryside near Yerevan.

This was in the Turkish/ Armenia border. It was an old ruins of an ancient pagan civilization from 2000 years ago, before christianity made it to armenia.

Lunch in an Armenian village. Pickled carrots, pickles, mashed potatoes, a kind of quiche with sweet peas and some delicious kind of meat with a sweet pepper sauce on top. Lavash, which is Armenian flatbread and a glass of homemade cherry juice.

The full spread.

The crazy thing is that these beautiful pictures don't come even close to capturing the breathtaking panoramas of mountains and natural beauty. This was an ancient monastery, out in the mountains, handbuilt by one guy as homage to the king some 1300 years ago. It was so serene, so still out there...

This was cool. The mongols were invading, sweeping across the Russian steppe, sacking villages. The monks decided that their best chance of not having their monastery raided and pillaged and burned by the mongols was to make a carving in which Jebus was portrayed as looking like a Mongol. That way the mongol hordes would dig it and leave the monks alone. They did. It worked.

first full day in yerevan

well, today I woke up and made some Nescafe. Too lazy to make the English Breakfast tea I bought yesterday. Restaurants and cafes make Armenian coffee, which seems to be similar to Turkish coffee, which has been growing on me.
Sadly, produce is much less common and much more expensive than in Turkiye. Bumsies. So far, I haven't seen any street-side pomegranate juice vendors, either, but I haven't given up hope. Leslie bought some of this vegentable spread. Looks like Amenian vegemite. But it smells like a spicy eggplant salsa, if that makes sense. The label has pictures of eggplants and tomatoes and peppers and onions on it. I made dinner last night with it. Made a batch of rice, sauteed a red pepper and a tomato and then a chicken breast with spices and then put the eggplant salsa stuff all over it. Turned out pretty good.

Today we got lunch at a baked potato shop. (Caity, its just like your lunch in Turkish Times Square.) Leslie was timid and got sour cream cheese and bacon on hers. I got mine with stewed chicken and mushrooms on it. She got a mushroom soup and I got a borcht. She thought her soup was better and I thought mine was better. So we were both happy:)

We went and looked at an apartment today. She had already seen a few before I got here and then we saw another one yesterday. The apartment yesterday kind of sent me into a bit of culture shock. Like...we're lucky if we find a place with hot water? Huh? The place was very drab. Lots of concrete and ancient furniture.

Today I had a better attitude about the whole thing. Maybe I'm adjusting. But the place we saw today looked alot nicer. It was a stand-alone apartment, placed on top of a one story parking garage. Nestled in with larger, multi-storey apartments all around it. From what I heard, its a pretty nice, quiet and safe neighborhood. It is quite close to the metro, which is one line that runs across the city. It would be two stops down the line from work, so it would be a super easy commute. Owned by a spanish musician couple. They are musicians. Lots of carpets all over. Piano in one room, which is cool. It would come furnished though, which is huge. Just not trying to find cheap cups and plates and siverware and shit is a huge weight off. And it was pretty clean. 120,000 dram per month, which, at the current exchange rate, comes out to $320 a month. So I'd be paying $160 a month for rent. As long as the hot water heater works, I am down!

This afternoon, we went to the main market, which is out in the suburbs. Leslie has made friends with this Armenian guy who works in the hostel and does tours. So he knows the city really well and took us out there to buy dress shoes for the internship. For anyone that hasn't been to a bazaar in eastern europe or the middle east, its a HUGE flea market with shit-tons of cheap knock-off merch for cheap and everything else. I got a pair of dressy shoes that go up to a kind of half-boot, above the ankle. Hilarious, though, because the inside is lined in synthetic fur. For those cold Armenian nights. Ha ha. 11,000 dram, which is like $30. Whatever.

Whats got my interest piqued, though is the walk we took after, through the farmers market. Now, not quite as holy shit as the spice bazaar last week, but there was plenty of produce. And it looked cheaper than in the little marches I've seen in the city center. For dinner last night, I paid $4.75 for 4 bell peppers, two green, one red and a yellow. Yikes. Everything like that , especially this time of year, has to be imported. And with two closed borders, that makes the logistics of importing fresh food difficult and strained at best. So! Anyways, the market was dope. Huge. Dried apricots and nuts and cucumbers and oranges and apples and pomegranates and herbs and tons of different mushrooms and cheeses. Herbs and spices. So I think I'm going to be ok. Its just gonna be a schlep out there every weekend.

I still don't have much of a mental map yet, but its only been a day. I keep reminding myself that it takes time. Things are starting to get familiar, though. And maybe I'll even learn the routes of the marshutkas, which are these little buses. They are basically the size of econoline vans, with seats for like 16 people. They have a number in the windshield. The number of the route. You hop on and it lumbers along this route. Picks up more people. You just kind of let the guy know when you are getting close. Pay the 100 dram and hop of. Thats like 25 cents. It has a very soviet feel to it. Communal. But yeah. Fuck, there are like 100 different ones with 100 different routes. No map. No telling. We shall see.

made it

I flew into Yerevan at 4:00 am, 13 hours ago. Got a ride to the temporary apartment where we are staying. Slept til noon and got up. The trip was interesting.

Kiev was a flash. Beautiful people. An hour in the airport, so what is there to say? Coming in, from the air, I saw field after snow-covered field. Ukraine in winter. It looked very peaceful. Boarding the plane for Moscow, me an two businessmen, at the end of the line to climb the stairs off the tarmac to the plane, paused to watch an AirFrance 747 taxi out from next to our plane and take off. You don't often see these big planes moving from upclose and outside of them. It was funny. It was a really beautiful moment, all three of us just stopped and watched this behemoth lumber off across the icy runway and time seemed to slow down for just a moment.

Moscow airport was all bustle. I was the only one from the Kiev flight to have to transfer and go to another terminal. SO after sitting around for a bit, this pimply kid walked up and asked if I was going to Yerevan. He led me to a gate and down the stairs, where we got into a big post-Soviet van, which drove us across the airport to the other terminal. There were a couple of short-of-breath moments where I thought I might be getting kidnapped or something, as there was no explanation as to where we were going...but I rode it out, sat tight, imagined my escape plan and felt like i was in some action movie, trundling across the runway of the Moscow airport, which was buried under two feet of snow. Come on. Thats totally the opening to a bond movie or something.

The new terminal was busy and fluorescent. Alot more asian tourists than I was expecting. And then it made sense. Moscow is probably a hub for East-West travel. Duh.
The food was especially bad airport food, but I had a russian beer and a double shot of espresso. Not in that order.
I've gotta go look at an apartment. I'll continue this later.

pics of Istanbul adventures!

old door in the haggia sophia, built in like 405 a.d...
ancient mosaic of jesus and co in the haggia sophia. this really tripped me out cuz the byzantines (christians) controlled constantinople from its inception in the late 300s to about the 1400s. then the ottomans took over. they were muslim. as they reappropriated the city to their needs, the ottomans turned this church into a mosque and plastered over the mosaics depicting jesus and mary and everyone from the christian mythology. in more recent years however, they discovered these murals, which had been plastered over, and they restored what was possible. this building is now a layered hybrid. christian mosaics here. islamic calligraphy and architecture there. i've never been in a building with such layered, rich history before. i also don't think i've ever been in a building that has been standing since 539a.d. before (it was rebuilt after a fire)
stained glass in the haggia sophia above the thing (i don't know what it is called) in a mosque, which points in the direction of mecca.

view from our room, with the sea of marmara in the background. we listen to the extremely loud foghorn disclaimers of container ships a half mile long as they come out of the "golden horn", the river that connects the sea of marmara and the mediterranean to the black sea to the north. it really drives home what a crossroads istanbul is, where asia meets europe.
this was in the Topkapi Palace, outside of the exhibit of religious relics from the Prophets that tripped me out so much. i wish i had done a better job of capturing the intricacy of the tilework
hand-painted Turkish tile and pottery. I'm coming back to Istanbul someday after I buy a house and I'm ready for some dinner plates.

for my mom's door collection. in the topkapi palace

this was the cafe/ hotel we read about and found. Fancy velvet furniture like my friends' grandparents had, growing up and about 1,000 10 watt lamps hanging from the ceiling clear across 3 rooms. It was pretty mood-altering. This is where we got the zucchini pancakes

Lo, and behold, the Zucchini pancakes!

A woman working on a turkish rug by hand in a rug shop. Said it would take one loom-worker over 16 months to make one full-sized rug. No wonder they are so expensive. And if they are made well and with quality materials, they only increase in value over time. Forget flipping houses. I'm going to start buying Turkish rugs as an investment.

This is down inside the basillica cistern. The Byzantines build this underground holding room for fresh water brought in on aqueducts. It was built right under the center of the city, like 1500 years ago. Never discovered by the Ottomans. It was not discovered until 1950 when a French archeologist noticed locals dipping buckets into holes in their floors and catching fish mysteriously swimming around underneath their houses. Its a gigantic complex with some 300 pillars supporting this huge underground pool with literally a city built on top of it. One thousand, five hundred years later and Bostonians can barely get the big dig right. Those are carp swimming around in the water in the foreground. They get big down there and have never seen the light of day.
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Thats my man. Street vendor juicing up fresh made, hand pressed pomegranate juice. Jesus, I hope they do this in Armenia. Because this stuff is ruby-liquid goodness.
Dessert one night in a little cafe. Flambeed bananas that were then wrapped in a crepe, cooked and then drizzled over with chocolate sauce. Man.

So this is a beautiful example of turkish coffee. Traditionally, it comes with a shot of water on the side. The coffee has the grounds in. Our first night, I had no idea what the water was for. My best guess is that I had heard that in the old West, when they made "cowboy coffee", they splashed some cold water on the top, to make the grounds sink to the bottom instead of floating around and having to drink them. So I tried that.
We later found out that no...the water on the side is to drink before the coffee, to cleanse your palate of food or another drink, so you can truly savor the flavor. Now thats classy. Let alone, this one came in a matching pair of hand-painted cup and saucer. I didn't like it at first, but it is in fact an acquired taste...which I think I have now acquired.

I always, no matter where I go, appreciate a dope stencil on the street.
In the new part, Beyoglu.

On the upper right, chocolate covered, pistachio encrusted baclava. All the rows below are the various forms and flavors of Turkish delight.


hMore forms of baclava in a storefront window. Turkish delight on the lower level.

Me and Caity outside of the Blue Mosque in the old city. Something beautiful when its all lit up at night.

Caity with the requisite head covering inside the inner courtyard of the Blue Mosque. Women must be covering their hair and can't show any leg above the knee and men have to be wearing pants, not shorts. We didn't get in. Visitors (non-Muslims) are not allowed to enter while prayer is in session, I think. We'll try again tomorrow.

This was the first time that I felt a little closer to maybe being in a 3rd world country (not a bad thing, just different). Walking down to the egyptian spice bazaar, the road just stopped and turned to a muddy track, with smaller and sketchier storefronts flanking it. When we got to the bottom of the hill, they were re-cobbling the road.

Mountains of spices in the spice bazaar. You smell it, coming in, from a few blocks away, cardamom and tumeric and peppercorns and clove and cinnamon.

Mounds of olives in the spice bazaar. There were also stands like this with nuts and dried fruits. I got a sackful of dried apricots. If I tasted apricots like these in the states, I would be grossed out after assuming that they were saturated in some artificial sweetener. Because no apricot, simply dried out, can possibly taste that good. But no, my friend. They taste just that good in the spice bazaar of Istanbul, Turkiye.