oops, how did it get to be almost the end of january without my noticing? i blame the crazy weather which has made me a temporary indoors type. i have been holed up in orange town for a little while. the bar job was grand but things in kaş went a bit yoko and i was invited to spend bayram with my sailor friend(s). after a non-event of a christmas i,ve been fortunate to have wasted the last week surrounded by other peoples families, epic barbeques, card games with drunk uncles and a million references to santa claus. no shit, this is the town where the original st nick's basilica sits under a plastic blanket, visited by busloads of germans who congregate like sheep. he is the patron saint of sailors (and pawnbrokers for some reason). i am having trouble pulling up my anchor.
unfortunately for the germans it's not a good time of year to look like a fattened herd animal, as this is the annual goat-slaying fest (hence the barbeques). i actually quite enjoyed watching the process courtesy of a dear old man named Balık (Fish) who made it all look very easy and didnt blink an eye when his wife gave me his last cigarette. once you have locked eyes with a creature it's hard to believe that its severed body parts don't feel any pain, even when it's been stripped down to kebap size. i hope i will never have to remember how to skin and dismember a goat but you never know what life's gonna throw at you. while i ate my usual christmas feast of salad rolls the children came for şeker like it was halloween and they kissed my hand as if i was an old man. maybe i am.
i was also fortunate(ish) enough to be present at a circumcision fest where a poor little 10 year old dressed like a fairytale king and surrounded by wondering children and deeply stoned parents was held down and mutilated with a small electric saw. didnt watch that one but sat in the sun and heard the screams and ate the ceremonial chocolate bars.
the weather is completely nuts. a storm and a half every other day and the sea so big and bruised it keeps eating the beach. we go for drives in one or other shitty hotrods listening to bad 80s metal and insulting each other (sometimes my friends here are so ocker it kills me) and smoking too much. the other day i got a new tattoo (sorry mum), a star for navigation. an hour later there was an earthquake. i choose to believe this is good luck, though it took a couple of hours of looking out the window for the tsunami before i could reach that conclusion as we inhabit a small bamboo shack at about ten centimetres above sea level and if the turkquoise pond ever goes narky, we're ölü.
between mouthfuls of the good life i am wondering how i can leave. the logistics seem insurmountable, let alone abandoning the people who have become a little family for me here. sometimes it's like having a dozen brothers, all of them great cooks. i can't complain. perhaps i am secretly plotting my escape only out of the habit of travelling, a habit of saying goodbye, of tugging at the rope that holds you to the harbour, of tying sailor's knots that come apart. being a master of the art of indecision means you tend to wait until something goes haywire before you jump ship. not always a good store policy, but like getting in the car without asking where it's going, it usually works for me.
i may have mentioned before the turkish phenomenon by which every day at least one person will give you an orange and say something delightfully confused by missed prepositions and dropped pronouns - my personal favourite 'please is an orange. maybe summer will come and drink our juices.' it has come to mean a lot, this generosity; an act of faith in the nature of earth and its bounty, in the nature of the wayfarer to return to the hearth of a promise. this town is half citrus orchards. i feel at times as though i have found the source.
there is also a minor discourse about capitalism i wanted to share with you but maybe later. i have some work to do transcribing the many poems ive been spitting out of late, rapid fire, as trigger happy as a marine in fallujah. so instead i will leave you with some tennyson, why the fuck not.
We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind...
...for the moment at least. give yourself an orange for me. baa baa, iyi bayramlar. xxxj
unfortunately for the germans it's not a good time of year to look like a fattened herd animal, as this is the annual goat-slaying fest (hence the barbeques). i actually quite enjoyed watching the process courtesy of a dear old man named Balık (Fish) who made it all look very easy and didnt blink an eye when his wife gave me his last cigarette. once you have locked eyes with a creature it's hard to believe that its severed body parts don't feel any pain, even when it's been stripped down to kebap size. i hope i will never have to remember how to skin and dismember a goat but you never know what life's gonna throw at you. while i ate my usual christmas feast of salad rolls the children came for şeker like it was halloween and they kissed my hand as if i was an old man. maybe i am.
i was also fortunate(ish) enough to be present at a circumcision fest where a poor little 10 year old dressed like a fairytale king and surrounded by wondering children and deeply stoned parents was held down and mutilated with a small electric saw. didnt watch that one but sat in the sun and heard the screams and ate the ceremonial chocolate bars.
the weather is completely nuts. a storm and a half every other day and the sea so big and bruised it keeps eating the beach. we go for drives in one or other shitty hotrods listening to bad 80s metal and insulting each other (sometimes my friends here are so ocker it kills me) and smoking too much. the other day i got a new tattoo (sorry mum), a star for navigation. an hour later there was an earthquake. i choose to believe this is good luck, though it took a couple of hours of looking out the window for the tsunami before i could reach that conclusion as we inhabit a small bamboo shack at about ten centimetres above sea level and if the turkquoise pond ever goes narky, we're ölü.
between mouthfuls of the good life i am wondering how i can leave. the logistics seem insurmountable, let alone abandoning the people who have become a little family for me here. sometimes it's like having a dozen brothers, all of them great cooks. i can't complain. perhaps i am secretly plotting my escape only out of the habit of travelling, a habit of saying goodbye, of tugging at the rope that holds you to the harbour, of tying sailor's knots that come apart. being a master of the art of indecision means you tend to wait until something goes haywire before you jump ship. not always a good store policy, but like getting in the car without asking where it's going, it usually works for me.
i may have mentioned before the turkish phenomenon by which every day at least one person will give you an orange and say something delightfully confused by missed prepositions and dropped pronouns - my personal favourite 'please is an orange. maybe summer will come and drink our juices.' it has come to mean a lot, this generosity; an act of faith in the nature of earth and its bounty, in the nature of the wayfarer to return to the hearth of a promise. this town is half citrus orchards. i feel at times as though i have found the source.
there is also a minor discourse about capitalism i wanted to share with you but maybe later. i have some work to do transcribing the many poems ive been spitting out of late, rapid fire, as trigger happy as a marine in fallujah. so instead i will leave you with some tennyson, why the fuck not.
We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind...
...for the moment at least. give yourself an orange for me. baa baa, iyi bayramlar. xxxj
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