Mark and I had such a great experience staying with Evrim that we decided to try our hand at couch surfing, you know, staying at people’s houses for free. Previously, we thought it would be too awkward, too weird staying at someone’s home, but Evrim had caused us to reconsider. We had been teaching Evrim the difference between “cheapskate” and “frugal” and we were testing the boundaries of frugal and heading into cheapskate territory. We sent out emails requesting a two day stay in Izrim and out of nearly a dozen requests, we got one response from Khorhan in Bostinle, Izmir. We hoped it would be a positive experience because we were otherwise looking at $70 per night accommodations which was quite the expense compared to $10-20 a night we had been used to in Africa.
Khorhan asked us to call him when we got to town, so we bought a phone card (yes, we’re still cheapskating our way along without a cell phone) and with the assistance of the salesman, used a public pay phone to call Khorhan. “Take the public bus to Bostinle and get off at the last stop. I’ll meet you there.” Pamukkale bus line offered free shuttles to and from their main bus terminals, so we took the free thing without knowing exactly where we were going, just that we were heading towards the correct general vicinity. Mark showed the bus driver our notes to verify that we were on the right course. Eventually, the driver motioned for us to get out, so we dumped our bags and assessed the situation. It was unclear where exactly we were, but we saw another pay phone, so we dialed Khorhan’s number. We couldn’t see street signs to identify the intersection and communicating in English with the locals was out, so I motioned for a guy in a booth to follow me to the phone where he could speak in Turkish to Khorhan and describe where we were standing. The booth attendant motioned for Mark and I to have a seat on a park bench and I gathered that Khorhan would be coming shortly. Sure enough, a guy in a business suit walked up a few minutes later.
Khorhan introduced himself, admitted his insecurity about his intermediate English skills, and led us to his 5th story apartment where we dumped our bags and headed down the street for supper. He walked us to his favorite Kumpir restaurant (Kumpir is a gigantic loaded baked potato). I ordered a cheeseburger and beautifully tall, freshly squeezed orange/ pomegranate juice (my Turkish is severely limited, but with Khorhan’s English and the help of google translator, we all got what we wanted). Even though Mark and I had suggested we buy Khorhan supper, Khorhan paid for Mark’s and my supper and handed us a pre-loaded bus/ferry pass. “You’re my guests.” We couldn’t believe it. His gesture was so thoughtful and kind. Back at the apartment, we moved a couch into the back bedroom so Khorhan could sleep in the laundry room while Mark and I occupied the living room which was decorated by DC/Marvel comic collectibles- think Morgan the IT wizard from the television series Chuck- the action figures are not toys, they’re collectibles housed in glass display cases. For our reading pleasure, X-men and Fantastic Four comics hung in a magazine rack near the couch.
We were amazed at the tiring effect of riding a bus all day. We apologized to Khorhan for going to bed early and made arrangements to leave at 8am the following day for Ephes, the modern day Ephasus from the Bible. Before heading to work, Khorhan made sure we were on the right bus line and gave us directions for how to get where we needed to be. The ride from Izmir to Ephasus took only an hour, but getting on the bus and shuttles to get there took about 4 hours. We stopped at a restaurant to feed our new addiction for Turkish tea. We took more tea and Nescafe on the bus. Eventually, the bus dumped us out on a quiet roadside on the outskirts of Ephasus.
Two taxis invited us to see the Virgin Mary for 50 lira. We declined and continued 1 kilometer on foot toward the ancient ruins. The site was awesome. My favorite stop was the two story, ivory colored stone library. I loved the arches, entryways, statues. I imagined what the town must have looked like in its glory days. It was stunning. Marble pillars lined the stone path coming and going from the city. A massive stone seat theater had been built into the hillsides to provide entertainment for the town’s inhabitants. We walked through snapping pictures, imagining a typical day in the city. We visited the excavated engraved tombs with their discovery dates painted on the sides in black. It was all pretty cool to climb through.
We returned to Izmir and took our host out to dessert. Again, he insisted on paying. We were impressed with the overwhelming kindness we were being shown. Back at the house, Khorhan showed me his part time I-stock online graphics company where he creates and sells artistic images for downloading. We agreed to spend the following day, Sunday, sleeping in, doing laundry, and exploring the city. The three of us took the ferry to the other side of town and strolled through the crowds in the parks along the shoreline. The sun was shining, the temperatures were perfect, and we were on the prowl for a Starbucks when two gals jumped out of a bush, beer bottles in hand, and asked, “Hey, travelers! Can you recommend a place to stay tonight?” The plea sounded vaguely familiar. Khorhan looked at Mark and I, and asked if we minded 2 extra housemates. “We don’t mind.” The Czech girls grabbed their backpacks and our group of 3 became 5. We went out for mocha’s, Turkish coffee, and sweets together and Mark and I were finally able to pay for a meal (I’m telling you, Turks are some of the most generous people I’ve ever met). Back at Khorhan’s, we drank beer, as all good Czech’s do (they’re very proud of their status as the world’s leaders in annual beer consumption) and talked about the differences in cultures. The Czech girls thought it was weird that Americans like to talk about their feelings. They explained that their diet was very similar to that of Germans: heavy gravies, dumplings, potatos, and above all else, meat. Lanka and Llana explained that they were students living in Turkey while completing internships. They slept on the living room floor in Mark’s and my sleeping bags while Mark and I shared a futon laying head to foot, foot to head. When Khorhan turned the light out and went to bed in the laundry room he peeked his head in the door and said, “Don’t stay up late talking without me or I’ll be sad.” We giggled like kids at a slumber party.
In the morning, we went to a bakery and ate family-style. The Czech gals paid for breakfast. From there, we crammed into a taxi and headed to the bus station. We gave hugs goodbye and headed to Pamukkale where we hoped to see the calcium waterfalls that appear as jacuzzi’s placed in snow, but first, we would be meeting our next couch-surfing host, Gorkem, a master’s graduate in Bizintine Art. We got dropped off at Denizli’s University where we reveled in the surrounding snow-capped mountain views. We were told that the town had a population of maybe 100,000 people, but it definitely had more like 1 million. Like every international couch surfing experience, the beginning can be a bit awkward. This was no exception. The first payphone call inadvertently hung up on Gorkem when the card ran out of minutes. I pantomimed my way through borrowing a cell phone form some female med students and explained where we were at on campus. Mark and I received instructions to walk back to the bus stop and wait without a description of who to expect. We stood and waited patiently, a new skill for us. Soon enough, Gorkem arrived. He was tall, thin, dressed in jeans and an army green blazer with his long, dark hair pulled back into a pony-tail. We walked to his 1 bedroom apartment about ½ a mile down the road. We were excited to see that he had adopted a loveable neighborhood cat affectionately named “watermelon.” We sat down for tea and then went out to a traditional lamb-wrap supper downtown. I discovered that I enjoy Ayran drinkable yougart in the glass bottle. Then we went out to Nargali (shisha/hookah) and kiwi tea. Our well-educated host launched into the politics of the road construction. “It’s 4 months before elections, so all of the roads are getting repaired.” He lamented that Turkey is turning into “little America” which he felt was a materialistic mistake for his country because it wouldn’t make them happy. Like two peas in a pod, Gorkem and Mark discussed their favorite topic, one that Americans tend to shy away from, politics.
I kept thinking about what a unique experience it was to meet random people through couch-surfing. I thought it was neat that we were meeting so many people with varied and often-times conflicting perspectives. I was fascinated to be experiencing first-hand the daily lives of Turkish people. It’s one thing to see a country as you’re moving through as a tourist and it’s totally another when you are a guest in someone’s home. I was amazed by the level of trust it takes to allow a stranger into your home, to commit to giving them your time and energy, guidance, and insight. I felt fortunate for our age and flexibility because I couldn’t think of a better way to see Turkey.
a nice writing
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