A Journey to the Middle of the East

192

A Journey to the Middle of the East

by

Pat Ryan

Copyright 2018 Patrick Ryan

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition;

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to smashwords.com to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, business organizations, places, situations and circumstances are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance between the characters in this story and people in real life is coincidental and accidental. The author’s use of names of actual persons (living or dead), places, and characters is incidental to the purposes of the plot and is not intended to change the entirely fictional character of the work or disparage any person, company or its products or services. Although certain events in the story may resemble reality, it is a fictionalized version of reality. Don’t believe a word of it…

Map by Karin Bremer

Table of Contents

1. Living Truth and Writing Fiction

2. A Clash of Civilizations

3. The Travel Game Begins

4. The Masters of Stone

5. The Crossing

6. Crazy Crazy Cairo

7. The Pyramids

8. Inspiration in Luxor

9. The Felucca Fantasy Ride

10. Angry Muslims Express Their Rage

11. Fire on the Mountain

12. The Tarrabin Suggestion

13. The Wadi Rum Diamond

14. Warm and Friendly Beverages

15. The Distraction

16. The Devil’s Offer

17. Hiking With Allah

18. The Fear of Travel

19. The Jihadi Café

20. The Promised Land

21. Manifest Destiny

22. A Modest Proposal

23. The Valley of Love and Dried Apricots

24. The Canyon of Cappodocia

25. Turkish Surprises

26. Finding the Way

27. The Cost of Being Alive

28. The Jihad of Kindness

29. The Legend

1. Living Truth and Writing Fiction

Oneonta, NY; December

If the truth is relative, the stories you are about to read are relatively true. Nevertheless, please be warned in advance that I am the main character, the narrator and the author so the human uncertainty principle applies. I live in a subjective universe not an objective one. As such, these stories contain exaggerations, extrapolations and occasional flat out lies. The names are not correct because I have a bad memory, I don’t hear accents well, and sometimes I just like a different name better. Various details are inaccurate or perhaps completely imagined. Time sequences are slightly re-arranged. Conversations in quotation marks are not tape recorded and transcribed exactly word for word but are instead sort of remembered many days or weeks or even months later in a far away hammock when I am writing it down. In other words, this book contains so many untrue elements that I feel like I have no choice but to present it as a work of fiction even though I, personally, happen to think it is more or less true. Merely a fine line separates illusion from reality and in my particular case the fine line is rather frayed as well. Where does truth end and fiction begin? I don’t know. That is, you might say, the issue…

This much is definitely true. I work seasonally in upstate New York. I build stone walls, patios, water falls and large stone sculptures in order to create and improve outdoor living spaces. But because of the snow and ice that comes in the New York Winter, I only work from some time in early April until some time in early November. In the Winter months, I go traveling. In the last fifteen years, traveling for four or five months per year, I have traveled to over fifty countries on five continents. I don’t spend much money when I travel because I don’t have much money to spend. I learned long ago, that if I stick to local accommodation and services, I can see most of the world for a very reasonable rate.

It’s kind of a crazy thing to do in this modern age, but during my travels, I always carry an old style spiral notebook in which I use a pen to write stories about my various experiences. When I write the stories, I sometimes imagine myself to be the lead character in an adventure novel or the symbolic character in a myth. But in reality, I am just a guy with notebook and a backpack who likes to wander around the world. In June of 2012 (on my birthday) the lovely Ms. B. gave me a brand new hand-crafted artisan notebook that she made herself. But I was not able to use it that Summer because I was too busy with stonework. These are the very first words I wrote in that new notebook in early December of 2012.

Winter is here and I have decided to take my new notebook and go for a little wander around the Middle East. I am, like usual, going on a quest of sorts, but I am not quite sure what I am looking for. Of course the stone stuff intrigues me. I always make it a point to visit cool Archaeological sites. The Middle East has Petra and the Pyramids and so much great stone stuff that there will definitely be no shortage of destinations. But are the stones the story of the journey or merely the foundation upon which the story will be built? What is this notebook really going to be about?

According to the official story (truth) of the various propaganda outlets, the Middle East is a dangerous and scary place to travel. The dominant mass media narrative suggests that the region is overloaded with extremist Muslims who will want to convert or kill me. Fortunately, I have escaped the US propaganda bubble on many occasions in the past and therefore do not believe it. I have traveled in several Muslim countries before and have always been treated with respect and friendliness. I have no rational reason to suspect that I will be treated any differently in the Middle East. Thus, I have no fear at all of the Muslims in the Middle East…

Well, okay, maybe I have a little bit of fear. The power of propaganda is that strong. In my brain and in my soul I know the truth. Humans are humans and it does not matter their race, ethnicity or religious beliefs. 95% of all the people on the planet earth will be nice to you if you are nice to them. There are, no doubt, scoundrels and predators among us but really they are very few and very far between. I have tested this truth in country after country and on continent after continent; in the mountains and on the coast, in the jungles and in the desert. People are people and most people are nice. The people who aren’t nice are the people on television. So why am I just a little bit afraid of Muslims in the Middle East even though I know I shouldn’t be? Because of the damn television… and the computer…. and the magazines. I barely even look at them but the power of propaganda is that strong. It filters into the atmosphere. It becomes the subject of every day conversation. It implants this image of the evil scary Muslim on my brain. I don’t believe it. I know it is not real. But still, my heart is a little bit afraid.

So maybe that is what this journey is all about. Overcoming fear. Discovering truth. The Empire and its propaganda say that Middle Eastern Muslims are scary. I believe that Middle Eastern Muslims are nice. The only way to find out for sure is to take my backpack and my pen and this notebook and go see for myself.

2. A Clash of Civilizations?

Istanbul, Turkey; Dec. 21, 2012

Istanbul...Constantinople... Istanbul... Constantinople... Istanbul... So, here I am, standing on the fulcrum of the civilized world. Where east meets west and west meets east. The Bosphorous River, quite literally, is the natural dividing line which separates Europe from Asia. At this moment, I am standing in the middle of a bridge which spans that river. If I look to my left the road leads to Greece, Bulgaria and onwards into Europe. If I look to my right, the road leads through Turkey and into Syria, Iraq, Iran and onwards to Asia. If the ancient prophecy is correct and the world is indeed about to end (today, this very day; December 21, 2012) in a final epic battle, then this particular spot could very well be the epi-center of all the action.

Indeed, some of the grandest battles in the history of the world were fought here. As Constantinople, this city was once the center of the Holy Roman Empire until that world ended. As Instanbul, it was once the capital of the Ottoman Empire, until that world ended. Why not one more big final fight to the finish to bring thıs whole crazy experiment called humanity to a final dramatic conclusion? Because my friends; the apocalypse is not comıng. There will be no war between east and west. Despite all the evidence to the contrary and the constant messaging of corporate propaganda that profits from war, love is still stronger than hate and in the long run, humans can learn to live together in peace... or at least, that is what I belıeve.

It was interesting to see how most of my friends in the US responded when I expressed my plan to go traveling in the Middle East this Winter. They didn’t actually try to talk me out of it, but they looked at me like I was crazy and then they expressed concern for my safety. Politely, they mentıoned my blonde hair and blue eyes and then they informed me that the region is filled wıth psychotic Muslims who want to kidnap and murder people like me. I, of course, think there is nothıng serious to worry about. My experience in world travel has taught me to believe that most of the people on this planet are kind and helpful with open hearts and healthy curiousity. I could accidently end up in the wrong place at the wrong tıme. But such a reality is just as likely to happen in my home country as it is likely to happen here among strangers. I'm not traveling to any actual active war zones. Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan are not on my itinerary. And although there mıght be some politıcal unrest on the horizon, I happen to think a little political unrest is healthy and interesting rather than dangerous and scary. As a matter of fact, my own country (the US) could use some political unrest right now before its so-called democracy completely disappears into nothingness.

Anyway, my general plan is to head south along the coast of Turkey and then catch some kind of public transport boat across the Mediterranean to Egypt. I really want to immerse myself in the pyramids for a while and maybe take another boat up and down the Nile. Snorkelling in the Red Sea is definitely on the agenda but the penultimate destination is Petra in Jordan. I've wanted to go there for as long as I can remember and this year I am finally going to go. After Petra, I will make my way back to Turkey to meet up wıth Ms. B. for some early Spring romance on the Mediterranean. All in all it seems as if a wonderful journey is ahead of me. Of course my plans could change. My plans are always subject to change. But no matter what happens, I’m pretty sure I will have some good stories to tell. Like usual, I don't have much money to spend, though I am slightly better off than some other years. I will be staying in local budget guest houses and eating in markets and local eateries. I may indulge in the occasional splurge but for the most part, I want to live here as much as possible like the locals do. In other words, for a few months at least, I'd really like to leave the western world behind and discover what the Middle East is all about.

3. The Travel Game Begins…

Istanbul, Turkey; December 2012.

Trying to navigate my way around a foreign country where I don't speak the local language and the locals don’t speak much English is more fun and interesting than any video or board game I have ever played. There are challenges to overcome and prizes to be gained. Every time I make it to a new destination, it's a bit like getting bonus points or advancing to the next level of play. Of course there are occasional scoundrels, good for nothing's, and troublemakers that I have to deal with and I do sometimes get ripped off and thereby lose points to a penalty. But even when that happens… it is all part of the game. More often than not, people I meet are helpful and they assist me in my movement through the forever complicated, multi-layered labyrinthian maze of the foreign country.

I arrive in Istanbul without luggage thanks to my missed connection in London. That's a minor setback but nothing to get upset about. Who needs luggage anyway? I speak with the friendly folks at Turkish airlines and fill out a form so they can track my stuff down. Unfortunately, I don't have a room reservation to put on the form because I'm winging it, so they won't know where to send my stuff if they do find it. No worry they tell me, just call us with the claim number after you find a place and we will send it where you are. So, here I am in Istanbul with no luggage or room reservation. Now what? Let the game begin...

Usually, when it comes to accommodation, I follow a basic strategy. I go to the neighborhood for cheap digs mentioned in the guidebooks, avoid their specific recommendations and look around the area on my own. The neighborhood in Istanbul I want is called Sultanhamet. I meet a young American traveler in the lost luggage office and he is heading to a hostel in Sultanhamet called Cordial House. I don’t think a taxi is necessary, especially without luggage, so we decide to take the metro together and it is relatively simple. We do get mixed up once because there's a transfer and another token is needed and we only bought one each at the start. But a friendly local helps us… shows us the way. He swipes his own card to let us through and welcomes us to Istanbul. I'm telling you, friendly locals are everywhere. The Cordial House is fairly cheap and not bad so I check in. I use it as a base to survey the neighborhood. When my luggage arrives two days later I move to a place I like very much. Comfortably established, I spend the next several days exploring this wonderful city.

The tourist attractions are nice and I visit many but it's the human encounters here that I like the most. The rug sellers in the market entice me into their shops with offers of cups of tea. I always warn them that I'm not a customer because I am traveling for a long time. But they insist, just come look, I invite you for tea. They roll out there wares, explain about thread counts and tell me of their many friends in America who have bought rugs from them. Seriously, if I had a couple grand lying around, I might buy one. But I don't so I just accept a business card and continue on my merry way… on to my next cup of tea. Honestly, how much tea can one man drink? It only costs about 25 cents a cup and there are tea shops on every corner. I sit at a table, watch the action and listen to the incomprehensible symphony of foreign language that surrounds me. If only I could speak some Turkish.

The food is good here too. I could probably live on doner kebabs (a fast food thin sliced chicken sandwich). They cost almost nothing and the guys who sell them are so enthusiastic you would think they were advertising world class cuisine. Actually, the only reason I don't live on doners is that there is so much other food that is even better. Thus, the most difficult decision I make each day is deciding where to eat my dinner. Breakfast is included with my room. So I fill up on hard boiled eggs, cheese, bread and olives to start the day. Lunch is a doner at the nearest of the infinite doner stands whenever I happen to be hungry. But dinner? How to choose among a million options? Usually, I wander around aimlessly during the supper hour until some enthusiastic entrepreneur drags me inside somewhere. Probably not the most effective methodology but it does work. At the very least, it's a lot more entertaining than simply following the easy advice of a guidebook or google maps.

It's my third day in Istanbul when I make my most important purchase. I get myself a Turkish phrase book and dictionary; a most useful item for long term travelers. I don't even have to actually learn the language. I will get bonus points and friendship from the locals just for trying to learn. Seriously, I only have the book about an hour and I am sitting in a cafe trying to work out the numbers when I notice a pretty young woman watching me. Obviously shy, it takes her about ten minutes to smile directly at me and say, where you from? Her English is about as good as my Turkish but we spend the next hour or so passing the book back and forth communicating basics. No doubt, our conversation is not deep and thoughtful and complex, but our connection is meaningful and real. Words are one thing and communication another. I ask her to direct me to a good cheap local restaurant and instead of pointing one out she goes along with me. Yeah, I know, the guidebooks will warn you about con artists who take advantage of unwary tourists. But scoundrels generally speak English. Language is the hook they use to reel in their fish. My new friend is no scoundrel. As a matter of fact, she treats me to lunch and now we are friends on Facebook. How do you like that for a welcome to Turkey?

Now I can say please and thank you, how much and how are you? I can count to a hundred and that sure is useful when asking about prices and negotiating services. The smiles just keep coming with every word I try to say. No doubt, I am only in Turkey for a month or so and it is unlikely that I will ever become fluent or proficient in the language. Nevertheless, the little bit I have learned improves the quality of my journey so much that it definitely counts as a bonus point in the travel game.

On my last day in Istanbul, I go on a cruise on the Bosphorous River. I meet a world traveler guy from Montreal in my guesthouse and we take the journey together. We snap photos of the picturesque snow covered buildings along the river and trade stories about the various places we have wandered around the world. So much to see and so much to do in this world, I never get tired of learning more.

I finally leave Istanbul after six full days of fun and excitement. Just getting to the otogar (bus station), is a minor adventure. I take the subway again but this time I have my luggage. I have trouble getting on because I have the wrong token. Thankfully, somebody assists me. I almost get off at the wrong stop twice but three different people correct me and show me my route on the map by the door. I meet a friendly Syrian who welcomes me with halting English. I am curious to ask him about the troubles in his home country but I do not want to be nosy. Instead, I just smile and shake his hand in greeting before he gets off the metro ahead of me.

The otogar is massively big and complicated but as expected a scoundrel is there to show me which office I want. I'm on my way to a town called Canakkale because I want to visit the ruins of the ancient city of Troy that are near there. I buy a ticket and get on the bus. Two friendly people in the seat across start asking me questions in Turkish. What is your name? Why are you here? Where are you going? Where are you from? Thanks to my lesson with the pretty young lady in Istanbul and with the help of my phrase book and map, I am able to answer their first several questions without any problems. The confusion only arises when I mention that I'm American. And that is when they string several incomprehensible Turkish sentences together and ask me about President Obama.

Now that’s a tough question.

The truth is; I think Barack Obama is a horrible President. I have nothing against him as a person because I don’t know him. I only know his media personality. But for me, at least, he has been the smiley happy face on some truly ugly policies. I don't like the drone missile attacks. I don't like the continuing foreign military occupations. I don't like the ongoing assaults on personal liberty or the omnipresent surveillance. I don't like the bank bailouts. And I don't like the all of the above energy policy. I could go on and on. There are many reasons I think he is a horrible president. But I also think that all US Presidents have been pretty horrible and Obama might actually be slightly better than that complete lunatic who ran against him in the last election. But how am I supposed to explain all this in Turkish? Are they asking about Obama in general or are they asking about him in the context of the recent election? Maybe I could give a thorough enough response in Spanish, but definitely not in Turkish. My smiling new friends are waiting a response. What in the heck can I possibly say? It's a long journey ahead and no doubt this question will arise again. .To a very great extent, the success or failure of my entire journey is going to depend on how I deal with this issue. Hmm; How about a haiku? I quickly thumb through my dictionary; find the four words I need and try to pronounce them clearly and specifically…

"American hukumet berbat,

ben heykeltiras."

(Americant government bad,

I sculptor).

As I speak the words, I use my hands to mime the actions of a sculptor with a chisel working on a stone.

My new Turkish friends smile and nod their heads in agreement with my response. One of them gives me a thumb's up sign. No doubt about it, this year’s journey is going to be interesting.

4. The Masters of Stone

Bergama, Turkey; January 2013

Truthfully, I'm not a sculptor but there is no word for stonemason in my Turkish/English dictionary. Actually, I'm not even really a stonemason in the modern understanding of the word. I don't pour foundations or lay block or mix mortar or work with concrete and in the present day economic system, that's what the job of stone mason is all about: mixing and using mud. I realize it's only a theory and there's a good chance I'm wrong. But I happen to believe that the force of gravity is the only bonding mechanism that is really necessary for truly great stonework. Mortar and concrete are cheap substitutes for good old fashion hard skilled labor. In a way, the issue goes to the heart and soul of the entire economic system. The goal of capitalism is an idealized notion of the concept of economic efficiency. Instead of paying humans to do the work of carving stone and moving stone and carefully fitting stone together. We pay machines and use lots of fossil fuel energy to pulverize stone and then add chemical bonding agents. That way the stone can be poured or glued together and a lot fewer humans have to be employed in the process. The long term cost is in the pollution and the collapsing structures as mortar gives way to gravity. But capitalism is built upon the principle of ignoring the long term cost for the sake of short term gain. Do it now; do it the easy way; get your money and then get out. As I wander now among the 2500 year old ruins of the Roman Empire, I bow my head to the masters who have gone before me. There is so much incredible dry-laid stonework here. If only I lived in a world where creations such as these were still economically possible...

The journey by bus from Istanbul takes about six hours. During the last two hours the bus follows the length of the Gallipoli peninsula until we finally cross the straights of the Dardanelles on a ferry and reach the nice little sea side city of Canakkale. If you are a student of history, you may be aware that one of the most significant battles of World War I was fought in these parts. Over a hundred thousand young men lost their lives as pawns of greedy politicians who wanted to expand their empires. These days, you can go on a tour of the battlefields of Gallipoli and visit the monuments to those unfortunate men who were the victims of that particular manifestation of the human psychosis. I, however, decide not to do that. I'm not traveling to learn about war. I'm here to see the stones and meet the people.

I get off the bus by the ferry dock and find myself in the center of activity for this small city. There's a nice seaside walkway lined with restaurants, cafes, shops and a bunch of hotels. The big fancy hotels are obviously beyond my price range but after wandering around a bit, I find a nice little local Pension. Turkish/English dictionary in hand, I go inside to find