Erzurm and other fine spices

After an exhausting three-day trip, today is our second day in Erzurum. From room 201 in the Oteli Yeni Cinar, sitting on a chair while Machús takes a nap on the bed, I’ll try to describe some of the things have that have taken place today. The call for prayer enters through the open window that allows not only the fresh air of the afternoon to come in but also the hustle and bustle of the street below. Shouts and laughter of the children and adults playing with a kite that is flying over the tin roofs is mixed with the hammering on metal of the craftsmen who are making a wide variety of articles. We feel peace and an uneasy safety after hurrying passed frontiers, long queues and never-ending bus journeys.
Today the day began with cereals, fruit and yoghurt in the spacious hotel room with pale pink walls. The hot sun was already coming through the window. Our stomachs could not take much more due, perhaps, to the nerve-wrecking situation of having to pay and meet yet again the skinny Iranian public servant with an inquisitive and penetrating look. After having made the payment and returning to the Consulate, we were able to get a 15 day permit to cross the country. We then decided to go back to the hotel and do a little tourism. Before we reached the hotel we stopped at an old shabby building where you can find the Kirkçesme Hamami or Turkish bath. We get the prices of the baths and decide to come back after having taken a nap back at the hotel. We continue our way to the hotel and I find myself stopping in front of small shop where some men are busy making ekmek, a think type of bread that is cooked by sticking its fine dough to the walls of the tandir, a deep oven with vertical walls. The bread resembles bed sheets and it is used to make the famous kebabs. We stay for some time, just looking at how they hit the walls of this ancient oven with the dough. As may be expected, we are invited to try the delicious bread and to lemon çay which the typical drink of the area. We take pictures and promise to email them. We continue our way but are soon invited to have lunch in a restaurant close to the hotel. Our first impulse is to refuse the invitation as we had already had something to eat and weren’t really hungry. Machús notices a thin, old man who is wearing a cycling vest and we start talking. We show him our bicycles and soon a crowd of young people are surrounding us. They seem t be interested in them or her, I’m not sure. They are PE teachers and mountaineers. They insist that we have something to eat as one of them is celebrating his forthcoming wedding so we cannot refuse. Soon, we are sitting at a table of six showing our photos, eating rice with beef kebab. The rice is especially welcomed as my stomach has to do overtime to keep its contents inside. Machús bluntly turns down a soup made with bitter yoghurt and some fine herbs. She, however, eagerly accepts the delicious dessert that is extremely sugary as are all Turkish sweets.
Of all the names we remember only three and that’s only because they wrote them down for us. Erkan, Faruk and Erhan. Erkan is short with a strong Turkish built. He is 27 and is a PE teacher as well as a mountaineer as are his two brothers. Faruk is a year younger and a little thinner. He teaches Turkish. They are both surprised to find out that we are close to 40. They tell us that we look much younger with honesty reflected on their faces. People here age quicker. We finish and are invited to a nearby çay. Here çay after çay come and go and all our plans seem to dissolve. At one we were invited to lunch and it is not until 4 that we return to the hotel. We must, however, say that we had a great time while at the same time we were able to fix a metal part in my bike thanks to our hosts. The time for goodbyes come, we exchange emails and good wishes.
In the afternoon, we make our way to the hamam but first we stop to do some shopping. My incredible sense of direction takes us through short cuts and to a sure way of getting lost. In a field we come across some street boys of the kind that touch your private parts as soon as they see you while asking you for money. It is a sign of their wild upbringing. In the desolate field we can see bright green marihuana plants shining in the sun. They give an intense scent. I try to take a picture but the boys get in the way making obscene gestures of a Turkish interpretation. Seeing this attitude, we decide to undo our steps but it is not always wise to give your back to a young boy with a stone in his hand. Just as we were leaving the place Machús is hit by a pebble. Looking back we see one of the youngsters turning the corner. She sees the innocent creature and says “it was him!” In less a fraction of a second I start running after the creature. Running through wet, dark alleys in a ghetto in Erzurum. I am running after a herd of agile gazelle who start to sprint unaware of the fact that the hunter may be old but he knows all their tricks. They separate but the old dog has only one of them in sight. The herd runs across the dirty puddles, the old man surrounds them and just as he reaches the last corner, the young gazelle accepts his fate with a frentic scream. I grab his arm and with a F*** you I slap him just like in the old times. His ear slowly goes a bright Turkish red. The not so innocent youngster lets out a loud scream of terror and not from the pain as I have measured my strength to the size of his small being. I raise my hand as if I were gong to hit again, he covers his head, I raise my hand again and let him go. His punishment has followed the law of a cause-effect. Next time he throws a stone he’ll think twice about it. In any case, he’ll think about his chances of getting away.
After we had done the shopping we had planned to do, we went to the hamam. But that’s a different story.