Signs of the Times

Go West: Channel bags, fake blondes and Starbucks on the perpetually busy Istiklal Avenue, which has seen an inordinate amount of gentrification in the past five years.

The Nightlife of Bodrum, Again

After my last post about Bodrum, here is a a follow-up on certain aspects of the nightlife of the ever-popular holiday location.

A detailed discussion of Bodrum's thousands of bars and clubs, of course, will be patently impossible and pretty boring. Instead I want to tell you about the places that mattered to me, my close friends and the 1000-2000 other young people that frequent them.

This, for example, is the infamous BBC club, the only place that played rock and alternative during my adolescence in the early 2000s.

We were struck down with grief when the old BBC closed down to become one of the omnipresent "holiday discos" found throughout Bodrum. In 2007, however, it reopened as a rock bar, with the original trashy decoration meticulously "restored" to evoke the old days. However, people had moved on...

...to other places, Bodrum's labyrinthine streets among them. Here is my brother and his friends during last year.

They were busy preparing and drinking vast amounts of a notorious concoction called "Karışım," which was made out of beer, wine, vodka and tequila, among other things. Naturally disgusted by alcohol, I could only fathom one sip - which tasted like stale oil.

If the streets are not to your liking, you can always try the real bars that lie around Bodrum's landmark castle.

The first, and the most popular of these is called Körfez, which is always crowded to the brink and has not updated its playlist of songs since 1999.

These factors, however, do not deter people from having a good time, as this couple I shamelessly spied on can attest.

Other good places to go apart from Körfez include the newly-opened Tower,

...and the ever popular Adamik. If you spend your holidays in Bodrum, chances are your nights will be spent tracing infinite triangles between these three bars, and... nowhere else!

All of these pictures were taken last year. I wonder what this summer will bring? By the way, this is not my first post on Bodrum's nightlife. Check this out for the last report!

One Year Old!

Over the last week, I realized that my blog had quietly passed its first anniversary without anyone noticing. But the truth is, my attempts to record my adventures date back to far older times. Before blogs, me, my brother and our friend Necdet would take pictures and paste them in "adventure folders" complete with swashbuckling annotation.

What better way, then, to celebrate the overdue anniversary of Snapshots from Nemo Ramjet with one such "adventure folder" I dug up from our basement?

This specific "adventure folder" belongs to a recent trip to Buyukada, or Prinkipo. Dating back to the first months of 1999, it is gloriously titled "The Buyukada Expedition Journal by Interpid (sic) Adventurers Memo and Neco and Photography Assistant Kaan." (These are all mega-sized pictures so you can click on the images for a zoom-in.) One of the most striking aspects of such "adventure folders" is their invariably boisterous language and contrived poses, which, years later, leave me wondering whether I should laugh or cry. Also note the "blood samples" on the cover, another sign of juvenile self-aggrandizement.

"The challenging wilderness looms ahead."
"Our heroes charge boldly into the anarchy of nature!"
The "anarchy of nature", of course, is only a public forest that is visited by thousands of people every week.

"Our heroes conquered a steep slope at first sight. Kaan fell and almost broke his legs."
"While admiring the scenery, explorer Neco almost fell down."
Ooh, the excitement.

After a bit of fooling around in the trees, we arrived at a park that we dubbed "the park of horrors" because it was "...rudely built inside the forest."

Soon after entering the park, we encountered a pile of rubbish that offended us greatly as self-appointed protectors of "nature." The second photograph purportedly shows a smoldering fire, but now I have to confess that the "smoke" is nothing else but an over-exposed shot. We did clean the rubbish, though.

"Disturbed by this mess, our heroes were commanded by expedition leader Memo Kosemen (back) into the forest."
"Back in the wilderness, the Great Expedition progressed swiftly."
Humility wasn't among our greatest virtues back then.

"In the untamed wilderness, our heroes went boldly where no man had ever gone before, and discovered strange artifacts such as a footprint and a bird's nest."
In the fine tradition of amateur journalism, pointing fingers and confusion-reducing circles are everywhere in these photos.

This was among the stranger episodes of the "expedition." We found some random bones, possibly belonging to sheep or other BBQ leftovers. We put them together to resemble a dinosaur leg and photographed it, pretending it was a "strange fossil." As you can see, it's probably the most bogus dinosaur fossil ever forged.

"The photographer then noticed an unusual and possible abandoned old building nearby."
This "unusual" building is the famous Greek Orphanage, one of the largest wooden structures in the world. It is indeed abandoned today, but plans are underway to restore it as a five-star hotel.

"Upon arrival, our heroes were confronted by an ancient stone wall. They quickly scaled it and sneaked inside. The disturbing sight of a dog house discouraged them, however, and our heroes were forced to retreat."
I have to confess that everything in this page is a lie. We never came close to the Great Orphanage, and the dog house and the wall were photographed at completely unrelated locations.

This photo, however, is true. We did climb to the top of one of the peaks and snapped this fascinating vista. Here is what this view looks like from the sky.

And here is the Epilogue: "After their unforgettable avdenture, the tremendous trio spent the rest of their time playing computer games."
Sure it is cheesy and loaded with megalomania as any 15 year old's dreams can get, but I really love these old "adventure folders" for the memories they preserved. This particular adventure dated back to the beginning of 1999, what I like to think of as our last innocent years.

Later that year a great earthquake shattered our lives and we began to grow up for good. The quake also created a lot of panic about a fault line lying just off the Buyukada coast and the house we stayed in during that particular "expedition" was sold off by its owners. I wouldn't return to Prinkipo/Buyukada for almost nine years afterwards.

Return to the Great Salt Lake

The bleak, unearthly landscapes of the great Anatolian Salt Lake (Tuz Gölü) stretch before us, to infinity.

En route to Cappadocia, me and my family stopped over at the Salt Lake for a brief rest.

The weather being warm, my sister immediately walked into the water. I'm saying "walked in," because the lake is never more than a few meters at its deepest point. It is possible to walk inside for miles and the water doesn't even come up to your knees. I immediately followed her, although I had to strip off my pants and shoes to enter the water. This left me in an uncomfortable, Borat-like situation which I quickly avoided by running as far away from the shore as possible.

Our brief "expedition" was rewarded by a rock encrusted with huge, pink salt crystals...

...and feet stinking with tar-like, alkali mud, which lies immediately beneath the crust of salt that covers the lake bottom. At some times, the experience was comparable to walking on a great big birthday cake.

Co-incidentally, this had not been the first time I'd walked on the Great Salt Lake. Here, on a photograph taken exactly ten years ago, me, my brother and our friend Necdet are trekking across the gleaming, mirror-like surface. Unearthly.

Orthodox Easter in Istanbul

Xristos Anesti! This midnight, scenes like this will once again brighten the Hagia Triada in Istanbul, as thousands of Politis Greeks and Hellenic visitors will gather to celebrate Pasxa, the Greek Orthodox Easter.

These candles are lit from the "holy flame" that is passed out exactly at midnight.

The place gets quite crowded as thousands of visitors try to get a better view of the holy flame.

Compare the scene above with this serene view of the same church in a weekday. Not a soul is to be seen.

Although Easter celebrations take in many places in Istanbul, the ceremony at Hagia Triada is the most popular one every year. Here is the church where it all goes down!

Toilet King

Deep in the crowded streets and squalid arcades of Besiktas, lies one of the most amazing toilets in all of Istanbul, if not the world.

Owned and run by a half-crazy Alevi gentleman, this place is so loaded with unusual details and eye-straining kitsch that in these artsy-fartsy days, one cannot help but suspect if it is actually an art installation. But of course, no band of limp-wristed "modern" artists can ever hope to match the real thing. This is all real.

All over the toilet are signs and marble engravings, written in the grammar-and punctuation-free style that is the signature of madness. I will try to translate the best as I can. If they sound strange to you, that is because they sound weird in Turkish as well...

"THIS IS A PLACE OPEN TO ALL PEOPLE - HUNGRY OR SATISFIED THIS DOOR IS OPEN TO ALL THOSE WHO ARE HUMAN."

"DON'T BELITTLE YOURSELF TO THOSE WHO COME AFTER YOU WE MAINTAIN THIS PLACE WITH SERVICE AND MONEY."

"THIS SCHOOL IS SUCH A SCHOOL IN ISTANBUL THAT I BEGAN FOR MORE LIKE IT TO REPRODUCE! OTHER TEACHERS USED TO FACE ME. IT WOULD SUIT ME TO PROTECT THIS SCHOOL UNTIL I DIE LET SOME BLIND PEOPLE SEE IT I HAVE GIVEN 27 YEARS OF MY LIFE TO OPEN THIS PATHWAY TO CLEANLINESS.

I SPENT MUCH MUCH EFFORT MY NAME IS MUSTAFA BUT NOT KEMAL ATATURK BUT I WORK LIKE MY LEADER LET SOME PEOPLE TAKE SHAME AND OPEN THEIR EYES AND LEARN FROM MY EXAMPLE. THE KING DOES NOT DIE, EVEN IF HE DOES, HIS NAME LIVES ON."

"I WAS LEFT IN MUCH CURIOSITY, MY DAD USED TO TELL US WHEN WE WERE YOUNG, IF YOU TAKE A CURSE FROM YOUR FATHER THAT CURSE WILL SURELY HOLD. MY FATHER'S UNCLE'S SON TOOK A CURSE HERE IS THE CURSE: MAY YOUR BELLY FILL UP AND YOUR LAP REMAIN EMPTY. THIS LEFT ME IN CURIOSITY THERE WAS AN UNCLE'S SON. HIS NAME WAS SOYDULLAH. HE REALLY DID HAVE NO KIDS. HE DIED WHEN HE WAS 70 OR 80 YEARS OLD. I WONDER IF IT IS TRUE? SAGDULLAH."

"DEAR GUESTS, KEEP MODERN AND LUXURIOUS TOILETS ALIVE THINK ABOUT YOUR CHILDREN."

"MAKE THIS PLACE LIVE KING"

"THOSE WHO ARE NOT TIDY OR DON'T LIKE CLEANLINESS PLEASE DON'T COME HERE"

"MY FRIENDS, WAKE UP IF I DIE DON'T FORGET FOR THIRTY YEARS I GAVE THIS SERVICE TO MY PEOPLE, BUT THESE PEOPLE MOSTLY DON,T UNDERSTAND I CARVE MY LAST WORDS TO THE ENTRY AND EXIT OF THIS TOILET: IF I WAS TO DIE AND FIFTY YEARS WERE TO PASS NO ONE WOULD EVER DELIVER SUCH A SERVICE I SACRIFICED MYSELF I GAVE THIRTY YEARS OF MY LIFE IF I SURVIVE MY GRAVE WILL BE CLEANER THAN HERE MY WORDS AND I ARE ONE AND THE SAME OF THE PERSON"

"WAIT OUTSIDE, ENTRY IS CHARGED 0.000"

Here is the guy, "the King" as he calls himself. I don't know if he is still alive, but if he is, he has my unending respect. Notice his eyes, gleaming with visions that we cannot comprehend.

If you are ever around in Besiktas... Don't forget to visit the King. You certainly won't regret it!

Pontos

In the Plaka bazaar in Athens last year, I saw this interesting poster about Pontos, the Black-Sea coast of Anatolia.

Here are the Pontic towns and cities that used to have significant Greek populations: Pafri, Amisos, Oinoi, Kotiori, Kerazonta, Tripoli, Trapezonta, Rizaion. Today, they are known as Bafra, Samsun, Ünye, Ordu, Giresun, Tirebolu, Trabzon and Rize.

Besides the names of the cities, the Greeks also left many important landmarks in the region. Perhaps the most important of all of these is the Sumela Monastery, perched high above the mountains near Trabzon. Once a Mount Athos-like citadel for priests, it is one of the region's greatest tourist attractions today.

Even though almost no Greeks live there now, a regional language, closely related to Greek, is still spoken by a few Turkish inhabitants of the region. Like many places in Anatolia where Muslims and Christians lived together, the lines between who is Greek and who is Turkish is blurry; some of these people have converted from Christianity only in the last century-and-a-half. Despite their differences, both the Greeks and Turks of Pontos still share a common heritage of weapons, macho attitudes and music played with the regional kemenche instrument.

But not all memories of Pontos are nice ones, especially not after the horrendous population exchange of Turkish Christians and Greek Moslems in 1923.

A few years earlier in Salonika, I had visited a commemorative event in the name of the so-called Pontic Genocide that took place in 1919, which was supposedly as nasty as the Armenian one. Although I have different views on the plight of the Armenians, I think what happened in Pontos was more like what happened in Lebanon in the 1970s than what happened in Rwanda in the 1990s.

Despite the strong sentiments people on each side have for Pontiac culture and history, I don't think anyone except a minority of die-hard nationalists on each side still has dreams, or nightmares about Pontic Greece establishing itself as an independent country.