The earth continues to tremble from time to time. It's not very nice, but it's a fact of life. Ron and I are continuing to go about our business as usual, but it feels like we're the only ones. Last night, it turns out, most of our neighbours took off and huddled in the local park around a fire. Our landlords, the Akgüls, whose apartment is taller and built on a less solid foundation, spent the night in their car. They said their place was really rocking and they didn't want to hang around. But why has everyone come home today? Is it any safer in the daytime? Is an earthquake any less likely to strike when the sun is up?
Today the man who is sort of the building president - I guess he heads the condominium association - came to our door and said, "There are rumours that there is a much bigger earthquake coming. We're all leaving, and I think you should, too." But in this country of buildings that drop bits of themselves on your head when the earth is absolutely motionless, I don't think I want to be outside much without a hard hat when the earth is hiccuping. We're planning on staying put in our top-floor apartment in this solid little building.
We're trying to figure out why everyone is so frightened in this country of truly brave people. They really are tough, and brave to the point of heroism when required. And they've worked themselves up into a mighty state of hysteria, it seems to us.
What do you think? Should we stay in our apartment? Should we go somewhere else? Where?
Friday, October 21, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
The earth moves again
Another earthquake last night - 5.9. The TV this morning is full of pictures of cold people who spent the night in the parks. We said something like "Oh bleep, another one," and went to bed. Do they know something we don't know?
I'm surprised at how panicky the Turks get with earthquakes. I guess it's not just the Turks - I was talking to someone the other day who works at the large NATO base here. During Monday's earthquake there was a big tough British Special Air Services guy who was running around saying something like "The sky is falling!" and everyone wanted to run outside and go home. Their boss had to point out that the building they were in was built to withstand a nuclear attack, so get back to work.
It's really cool here now - very cool indeed in an apartment that's not heated. Our air conditioner also heats, but it uses so much power that we can't have anything else on when we're using it or it blows all the breakers. Now I'm wishing we'd brought more warm clothes.
The trees don't seem to be losing their leaves, although people tell me they do between December and February. Right now they seem to be enjoying the cool weather and turning greener. The dandelions are everywhere, and the bougainvillea is blooming like crazy. It's like a second spring.
The mandarin oranges are in season now and they're unbelievably good. They're called mandalina in Turkish, and they eat them when they're still green. We drove through some citrus groves yesterday - big oranges and grapefruits - and they look just about ready to pick. Then, they tell us, strawberry season begins about the end of December.
The drive yesterday was thanks to one of those crazy coincidences. Ron and I decided we needed to do some shopping and also needed to explore a bit, so we headed out to the nearest main street and caught the first bus. It carried us off into terra incognita, but a short walk from its terminus brought us to the continuation of our main street and we caught another bus that brought us to the southern suburb of Balçοva. We knew there was a big supermarket there so we headed off in search of it. We found one - not the one we were looking for, but a suitable one - and bought up all the stuff we needed that we can't get in our local shops. At the checkout we bumped into one of the women I'd met at church on Sunday, an Englishwoman married to a man whose family has lived here for 300 years although he has French citizenship (more about that in another blog, I think). They live in a lovely house between the water and the afore-mentioned orange groves. Lovely visit, great adventure.
If the buses are running I'm off this morning for my first haircut in Izmir. More adventures coming, I'm sure.
I'm surprised at how panicky the Turks get with earthquakes. I guess it's not just the Turks - I was talking to someone the other day who works at the large NATO base here. During Monday's earthquake there was a big tough British Special Air Services guy who was running around saying something like "The sky is falling!" and everyone wanted to run outside and go home. Their boss had to point out that the building they were in was built to withstand a nuclear attack, so get back to work.
It's really cool here now - very cool indeed in an apartment that's not heated. Our air conditioner also heats, but it uses so much power that we can't have anything else on when we're using it or it blows all the breakers. Now I'm wishing we'd brought more warm clothes.
The trees don't seem to be losing their leaves, although people tell me they do between December and February. Right now they seem to be enjoying the cool weather and turning greener. The dandelions are everywhere, and the bougainvillea is blooming like crazy. It's like a second spring.
The mandarin oranges are in season now and they're unbelievably good. They're called mandalina in Turkish, and they eat them when they're still green. We drove through some citrus groves yesterday - big oranges and grapefruits - and they look just about ready to pick. Then, they tell us, strawberry season begins about the end of December.
The drive yesterday was thanks to one of those crazy coincidences. Ron and I decided we needed to do some shopping and also needed to explore a bit, so we headed out to the nearest main street and caught the first bus. It carried us off into terra incognita, but a short walk from its terminus brought us to the continuation of our main street and we caught another bus that brought us to the southern suburb of Balçοva. We knew there was a big supermarket there so we headed off in search of it. We found one - not the one we were looking for, but a suitable one - and bought up all the stuff we needed that we can't get in our local shops. At the checkout we bumped into one of the women I'd met at church on Sunday, an Englishwoman married to a man whose family has lived here for 300 years although he has French citizenship (more about that in another blog, I think). They live in a lovely house between the water and the afore-mentioned orange groves. Lovely visit, great adventure.
If the buses are running I'm off this morning for my first haircut in Izmir. More adventures coming, I'm sure.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Earthquakes & other moving events
I'm weeks behind in this blog, thanks to a faulty ethernet port that was keeping me from connecting well to the Internet. But that's fixed, thanks to a techie friend-of-a-friend, and not too soon, either.
Today I woke up with a jolt. Actually I'd been thinking about getting up for some time (it was 8:45), but the bed was warm and comfortable and it's getting pretty cool in the apartment these days. But then the earth moved, and moved, and kept on moving, and I thought I'd rather be close to my Ron just then.
That was the first shock. It was 5.7, according to the TV. Throughout the morning we cocooned in our cozy living room and watched the reflections in the glass door of the china cabinet move and listened to the glasses jingle as more little jiggles happened. Then, just before 1 p.m., there were a couple more big ones - 5.9 and 5.6 - and things began to settle down.
The news says there was almost no damage, and the only injuries were to people who jumped off their balconies in panic. I can understand that. There's something crazy-making about the solid floor moving under your feet. And I think about Kashmir, where the aftershocks of their quake are bigger than what we're going through here.
The Kandilli Earthquake Observatory has a page listing the most recent seismic events in Turkey here, although it's not updated as often as one might like. The USGS page is more up to date.
Meanwhile, we've been having a good life here.
1. First ruins - Sardis
On the first day of Ramazan, Oct. 5, we had a free day so we rented a car and headed off into the countryside east of Izmir. We drove for about 1 1/2 hours through a former river valley (the seacost here is rising rapidly, so the river has diverted to the north), the home of the Lydian civilization that flourished about 700-500 BCE. The Lydians invented coinage to make it easier to handle the plentiful gold they were graced with. I found it interesting looking at the rocks around there, rocks that reminded me of the Kootenays with their rich red and green iron deposits, sulphur showings and quartz veins. I could almost see a sign over the mountains: "There's gold in them thar hills."
We stopped our eastward travel in the little village of Sart, the former metropolis of Sardis. The ruins of the Greco-Roman city are supposed to be fantastic, complete with amphitheatre and synagogue and all sorts of interesting things, but we got diverted to the temple of Artemis at the other end of town. It was quite wonderful and enough for one day. We poked all over the ruins and marvelled at a civilization that would throw such resources into a temple. And - to my great delight - we were adopted by a charming (and clean!) kitten who toured the site in my arms or frolicking at my heels. Fortunately she abandoned us for a German tour group just as I was about to make my plea to bring her home.
After deciding to leave the rest of the ruins for another day, we headed back west and a bit north to the city of Manisa, which has the last mosque designed by the great architect Sinan around 1580. We never did find it, but we took a long drive through a mountaintop park, looking for a shortcut to Izmir that doesn't exist. It was wonderful being high in the mountains again. I miss the high places.
One of the great pleasures that day was quite unexpected. Ron needed to stop for a little midafternoon snooze, so I wandered down the roadside looking at rocks and anthills and other wonders. Finally I came upon a pomegranate tree full of ripe fruit. I've never really enjoyed pomegranates before, but I picked one and started sucking the seeds. What wonderful, refreshing tart juice! And it was great fun having a seed-spitting contest with Ron when he woke up.
2. Ramazan
The month of Ramazan (Ramadan in the rest of the Muslim world) started Oct 5. That may have been why the other drivers were worse than usual during our expedition that day - they were suffering from caffeine and nicotine withdrawal. They certainly were grouchy.
I'm not sure how many Turks observe Ramazan, but I think the majority does in our neighbourhood. From sunrise to sunset they eat and drink nothing. They also don't smoke, and are supposed to refrain from swearing and sexual relations. An hour or so before sunrise (actually closer to 3:30 a.m.) drummers make their way through the neighbourhood beating their drums so loudly that the car alarms go off, waking people up so they can have a good breakfast before dawn. It's amazing how quickly it becomes possible to sleep through all that. When we did get up to have a look we noticed quite a few lights coming on around us. And then at sunset a gun goes off to let people know they can eat again, and all the wonderful smells that have been building up around us give way to the sound of clattering dishes. There's a beautiful bread that's baked only at this time of year (a huge flat loaf costs .25 YTL) - delicious when fresh from the oven, but as soon as it's cool it begins to go stale. People seem to focus on food at this time of year. The month will end Nov. 2 with Seker Bayram - sugar feast - when the kids come door-to-door looking for candy (and the drummers turn up looking for a handout too).
Even if they don't really fast during Ramazan, most people seem to give up drinking alcohol. We've noticed quite a number of bars shut down for this month. The one near us is using the time to refinish its furniture. Some little restaurants close, too, and the number of street sellers seems way down.
3. More ruins and a concert
Saturday the 8th we enjoyed a most wonderful experience: a concert in the ancient amphitheatre of Ephesus. We haven't done a real tour of Ephesus yet, but this was a suitable introduction to it. The amphitheatre was probably the same one where the image-makers of Ephesus threatened to riot against the apostle Paul, who was ruining their business. It could seat about 20,000 in its heyday, and even now, with the most dangerous ruins closed off, it holds about 15,000. It was close to full for this concert, Verdi's Requiem performed by the orchestra of a university here augmented by a German orchestra, with a 150-voice German choir and 4 Izmiri soloists. Beautiful performance of wonderful music, and the acoustics are so great in that place that we could hear every note. Wow!
4. A brush with officialdom
A while ago we got a notice that we should do something or other or be fined. We showed it to our landlords and they seemed really concerned. Apparently it said we should tell the local officials who we were. We hadn't realized that every Turk registers their location with the police and tells them when they move. The previous tenant of our apartment had registered in a new location, so the police wanted to know who was living here now.
The Akgüls got the forms we needed to fill out and helped us complete them, then took us to see the muhtar, the head of the district we live in. We were welcomed into his tiny office and sat while the Akgüls carried on a spirited discussion with the muhtar - a dignified older gentleman - and his assistant. This ended when the room filled with police officers, one of whom had shiny gold buttons and trim and was greeted by the muhtar with kisses on both cheeks. Turns out this was the new chief of police of Konak, the part of Izmir we live in (Izmir is kind of like Metropolitan Toronto used to be, with lots of separate municipalities forming one big city). He was visiting all the muhtars of his area, finding out what their concerns were and how things were going generally. So we were all ushered out of the little office into the park outside, and white plastic chairs appeared, and we all sat around in a circle making polite conversation. If it hadn't been Ramazan there would have been glasses of tea for everyone, but the chief said he was fasting so we didn't have refreshments.
Anyway, the general consensus of the muhtar and the chief of police was that we should register with the police at the foreigners' office downtown. So off we all went to the foreigners' office, but when it turned out that we were happy with being tourists and didn't want permanent residents' permits, they weren't interested. I guess most tourists stay in hotels and the police get copies of the hotel registrations, keeping track of foreigners that way. After that I got us registered with the British consul so at least someone will know who and where we are, in case of emergency. The earthquakes have made me glad I did thatç
There's lots more going on, but this is enough for you to have to read for now. Stay tuned. And have a look at our October pictures here.
Today I woke up with a jolt. Actually I'd been thinking about getting up for some time (it was 8:45), but the bed was warm and comfortable and it's getting pretty cool in the apartment these days. But then the earth moved, and moved, and kept on moving, and I thought I'd rather be close to my Ron just then.
That was the first shock. It was 5.7, according to the TV. Throughout the morning we cocooned in our cozy living room and watched the reflections in the glass door of the china cabinet move and listened to the glasses jingle as more little jiggles happened. Then, just before 1 p.m., there were a couple more big ones - 5.9 and 5.6 - and things began to settle down.
The news says there was almost no damage, and the only injuries were to people who jumped off their balconies in panic. I can understand that. There's something crazy-making about the solid floor moving under your feet. And I think about Kashmir, where the aftershocks of their quake are bigger than what we're going through here.
The Kandilli Earthquake Observatory has a page listing the most recent seismic events in Turkey here, although it's not updated as often as one might like. The USGS page is more up to date.
Meanwhile, we've been having a good life here.
1. First ruins - Sardis
On the first day of Ramazan, Oct. 5, we had a free day so we rented a car and headed off into the countryside east of Izmir. We drove for about 1 1/2 hours through a former river valley (the seacost here is rising rapidly, so the river has diverted to the north), the home of the Lydian civilization that flourished about 700-500 BCE. The Lydians invented coinage to make it easier to handle the plentiful gold they were graced with. I found it interesting looking at the rocks around there, rocks that reminded me of the Kootenays with their rich red and green iron deposits, sulphur showings and quartz veins. I could almost see a sign over the mountains: "There's gold in them thar hills."
We stopped our eastward travel in the little village of Sart, the former metropolis of Sardis. The ruins of the Greco-Roman city are supposed to be fantastic, complete with amphitheatre and synagogue and all sorts of interesting things, but we got diverted to the temple of Artemis at the other end of town. It was quite wonderful and enough for one day. We poked all over the ruins and marvelled at a civilization that would throw such resources into a temple. And - to my great delight - we were adopted by a charming (and clean!) kitten who toured the site in my arms or frolicking at my heels. Fortunately she abandoned us for a German tour group just as I was about to make my plea to bring her home.
After deciding to leave the rest of the ruins for another day, we headed back west and a bit north to the city of Manisa, which has the last mosque designed by the great architect Sinan around 1580. We never did find it, but we took a long drive through a mountaintop park, looking for a shortcut to Izmir that doesn't exist. It was wonderful being high in the mountains again. I miss the high places.
One of the great pleasures that day was quite unexpected. Ron needed to stop for a little midafternoon snooze, so I wandered down the roadside looking at rocks and anthills and other wonders. Finally I came upon a pomegranate tree full of ripe fruit. I've never really enjoyed pomegranates before, but I picked one and started sucking the seeds. What wonderful, refreshing tart juice! And it was great fun having a seed-spitting contest with Ron when he woke up.
2. Ramazan
The month of Ramazan (Ramadan in the rest of the Muslim world) started Oct 5. That may have been why the other drivers were worse than usual during our expedition that day - they were suffering from caffeine and nicotine withdrawal. They certainly were grouchy.
I'm not sure how many Turks observe Ramazan, but I think the majority does in our neighbourhood. From sunrise to sunset they eat and drink nothing. They also don't smoke, and are supposed to refrain from swearing and sexual relations. An hour or so before sunrise (actually closer to 3:30 a.m.) drummers make their way through the neighbourhood beating their drums so loudly that the car alarms go off, waking people up so they can have a good breakfast before dawn. It's amazing how quickly it becomes possible to sleep through all that. When we did get up to have a look we noticed quite a few lights coming on around us. And then at sunset a gun goes off to let people know they can eat again, and all the wonderful smells that have been building up around us give way to the sound of clattering dishes. There's a beautiful bread that's baked only at this time of year (a huge flat loaf costs .25 YTL) - delicious when fresh from the oven, but as soon as it's cool it begins to go stale. People seem to focus on food at this time of year. The month will end Nov. 2 with Seker Bayram - sugar feast - when the kids come door-to-door looking for candy (and the drummers turn up looking for a handout too).
Even if they don't really fast during Ramazan, most people seem to give up drinking alcohol. We've noticed quite a number of bars shut down for this month. The one near us is using the time to refinish its furniture. Some little restaurants close, too, and the number of street sellers seems way down.
3. More ruins and a concert
Saturday the 8th we enjoyed a most wonderful experience: a concert in the ancient amphitheatre of Ephesus. We haven't done a real tour of Ephesus yet, but this was a suitable introduction to it. The amphitheatre was probably the same one where the image-makers of Ephesus threatened to riot against the apostle Paul, who was ruining their business. It could seat about 20,000 in its heyday, and even now, with the most dangerous ruins closed off, it holds about 15,000. It was close to full for this concert, Verdi's Requiem performed by the orchestra of a university here augmented by a German orchestra, with a 150-voice German choir and 4 Izmiri soloists. Beautiful performance of wonderful music, and the acoustics are so great in that place that we could hear every note. Wow!
4. A brush with officialdom
A while ago we got a notice that we should do something or other or be fined. We showed it to our landlords and they seemed really concerned. Apparently it said we should tell the local officials who we were. We hadn't realized that every Turk registers their location with the police and tells them when they move. The previous tenant of our apartment had registered in a new location, so the police wanted to know who was living here now.
The Akgüls got the forms we needed to fill out and helped us complete them, then took us to see the muhtar, the head of the district we live in. We were welcomed into his tiny office and sat while the Akgüls carried on a spirited discussion with the muhtar - a dignified older gentleman - and his assistant. This ended when the room filled with police officers, one of whom had shiny gold buttons and trim and was greeted by the muhtar with kisses on both cheeks. Turns out this was the new chief of police of Konak, the part of Izmir we live in (Izmir is kind of like Metropolitan Toronto used to be, with lots of separate municipalities forming one big city). He was visiting all the muhtars of his area, finding out what their concerns were and how things were going generally. So we were all ushered out of the little office into the park outside, and white plastic chairs appeared, and we all sat around in a circle making polite conversation. If it hadn't been Ramazan there would have been glasses of tea for everyone, but the chief said he was fasting so we didn't have refreshments.
Anyway, the general consensus of the muhtar and the chief of police was that we should register with the police at the foreigners' office downtown. So off we all went to the foreigners' office, but when it turned out that we were happy with being tourists and didn't want permanent residents' permits, they weren't interested. I guess most tourists stay in hotels and the police get copies of the hotel registrations, keeping track of foreigners that way. After that I got us registered with the British consul so at least someone will know who and where we are, in case of emergency. The earthquakes have made me glad I did thatç
There's lots more going on, but this is enough for you to have to read for now. Stay tuned. And have a look at our October pictures here.
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