In which: there is a difference of opinion about temperature

Konya, Turkey


Saturday morning we visited a cave church in Göreme. It was locked, and we were going to give up, when the people in the house next door emerged, and said, oh yes, we have the key. We we went back up the snow to look at the church.

We caught the 11:30 bus to Konya, arriving a bit before 3. We took the tram back to the center, this time with no injured parties, and found Ipek Yolu, or Silk Road, a carpet shop, near Mevlana's tomb, owned by a guy named Mehmet, that friended our family when were were in Konya in 2001. When we walked in he looked surprised, but when I told him I was Sarah and William's kizi (daughter) he remembered me. You were so young the last time you were here, he told me. We sat and talked for a while. His family is doing well, there were some american university students that visited his village for 3 days, I should come back any time, but in June and July there will be a cherry harvest in the village. When his driver took his father home, we also got a ride to the train station.

We got on the train, and everything was good. A guy came in, turned on our heater, and showed us how to use the control. Then, a couple of Turkish guys got on with no luggage, except for food. Oh good, we thought, they aren't going to be on all night. But no, they were going to Istanbul. Ingo and I went to the dining car for dinner (I love dining cars on trains!!), and returned to find our room very very hot. Not having anything to do, we concluded maybe we could just go to sleep. The idea seemed to work better for Ingo than me. Because I am used to sleeping in a room with no heating, a room that is a very dry 35 or 40 C is not a good place for me to sleep. At around midnight, after I had opened the window half an inch, one of the guys tried to close it because he said he was cold. I offered him my blanket, which he turned down. In the Turkish world, a cold draft means you will get sick, just as putting ice in a drink will give you a cold, and god forbid you eat ice cream in the winter.

Not being able to stand the heat, I walked down the train in search of someplace cooler. I ended up sitting at the end of a car, in the doorway people use to exit the train. There were a couple of Turkish guys there smoking, who decided they needed to ask the weird foreigner who wanted to sit in the cold questions. Where are you from, what are you doing in Turkey, do you like Turkey, which is better, America or Turkey, does everyone in America have blue eyes? what color are your eyes? how old are you? And more than a few times - aren't you cold? you can go inside and sit in my seat. do you want my jacket? The idea that I could like a place that wasn't overheated was a bit beyond their imagination, even after I had explained it several times.

It was at this point that I realized how male dominated my trip had been. There is the obvious, I was traveling with a guy, but that's not what I mean. Except for one or two very short conversations, all the conversations I had had on the trip were with guys. The guys on the train to Konya, guys in the Konya bus station, guys in the hotel in Eğirdir, guys in the restaurant in Eğirdir, the three guys that ran the hostel in Kapadokya, guys in the carpet shop in Konya, guys on the train back to Konya. I talked to a woman in a pension we didn't stay in in Eğirdir, a very strange woman waiting for the night bus to Kapadokya, and a bit to an american and a korean woman staying in the hostel. I had gotten a lot of practice with my Turkish, but it had all been with guys!

Anyways, when people needed to get out the door I was sitting in, I moved into a free seat in the car. When a guy got on, and claimed the seat, I went back to my car and sat in the hall. And then the conductors came by, asked me if I had a ticket, and told me I had to go back inside. When I told them it was too hot, they told me to turn off the heat and so I did. A few hours later, the Turkish guys got cold and turned back on the heat. I think I finally fell asleep around five and woke up at nine. Our train was supposed to have arrived at six, but we didn't get in until 10, four hours late, making it a 16 hour trip.

In conclusion (this sounds like an essay now), I really like Turks, but have no desire to ever again be in a train compartment again with Turks where the heater has only two settings - very hot and off. Also, it is now time to go hang out with my female friend!