Been awhile since we last chatted, as several trips transpired and had a bit of consternation to deal with.

My boss is leaving Post in about a week, so there have been several parties for him.  He is a very sociable person, so in the time he has been here he has made many friends, and some of the best ones are Turks.  Several weeks ago, Terese and I had a chicken-wing party at our house for him and his Turkish friends.  Last night, they threw him a party at a downtown pub and invited me.

All of them, with the exception of a very few are much younger than me so I felt a bit out of place.  In many of the pictures they took where they had me join in, I reluctantly stood in back which ended up making me look like some sort of stalker, since when I smile it usually stays inside.  Some of the pics, I looked like I photo-bombed them.

I enjoy watching these good people with their antics, laughter and tears. One young girl told me that she just graduated from University and was no longer a student.  I hit it off well with her, talking about the books we read and the music we listen to.  She’s only 23 and worried about getting a good job, as if that will be the only job she will ever have.  She said she may reluctantly take a job as a teacher if she cannot find anything else.

We all have heard how being a teacher is a noble profession as if it’s similar to being a librarian, but we all know there is so much more to it.  I pointed out, in the future when she decides on something in the corporate or diplomatic world, to have a resume stating that she taught school looks very good, because it means she has managerial skills, can relate to people and are responsible; plus more that I can’t think of.  I have a feeling the little one will be a teacher.

And as with all who tell me they graduated from University, I always feel compelled to tell them about my elegant mother who graduated at the ripe age of 89.   … and she’s a writer.

That gets them exited.  Then I drop the bomb that my daughter also graduated with her and the two walked arm and arm down the aisle together.  I still think of the ceremony often.  When my mother reached the stage to be handed her diploma, the whole monotonous procedure stopped as they announced this dear lady receiving her diploma.  And the crowd erupted in applause.  Well, actually, it mostly came from our section of the bleachers.

But, back to the party.  My boss’ friends are mostly from a group that meets for a game of darts occasionally.  I tried darts a few times and perforated the wall surrounding the dart board more than not.  Best not let me throw the hand grenades in a battle.

In this group, I find one young girl is an Electrical Engineer who is the first individual I have met who knows what a coulomb is and can carry a conversation with me about electron shift.  One girl works for Google in the comfort of her home in her pajamas.  Never did understand what she does.  Kinda like asking my younger brother what he does for a living.

As I sit here typing this, I cannot remember what the men did.  I think one works at a university, one at a manufacturing plant, I think, and … well, I really don’t know.  I guess I need to visit more with the men next time.

Maybe it’s time for another topic.

About a month ago I was sitting out on the green area between the apartment buildings with cigar and drink, reading and contemplating all things worth thinking about.  Two little Turkish girls walked by and stopped to look at this strange man.  I would guess one is about 10 and the other perhaps 12.  They were sharing a banana.

They asked me if I was İngilizce (English), and I said, Yes.  Then the younger one pointed to my drink and asked, What is that?  I said, Coca Cola.  She turned her head slightly looking at me as if she didn’t believe me, so I pulled out my can of coke and showed her.  The older said, Coca Cola, as if to assure her.

We tend to think the young people can be fooled.  I feel she may have seen past my ruse.

Next time I will tell you more about Istanbul.  Keep kicking butt.
D.

Damn, that sounds good!

Working overseas, asking a person where they are from is a good way to break the ice.  I listen patiently as they tell me their home state, and when they ask me, I point to my boots and proudly state, Texas!

In places I travel, sometimes my State Department ID is not enough.  That’s when I pull out the ol’ Texas driver’s license.  I kid you not.  I have found that little card from Texas has more sway than a diplomatic badge with my picture on it, and the words U.S. Department of State.

A few months ago, I had to go to one of the Turkish military compounds to help with a situation.  I gave the guard the usual State Dept. ID and he looked at it and said, “I need more.”  So, I gave him my “Sam Houston” card, and he exclaimed, “Ah, Texas!”  I replied, “Yes, sir.  Best country in the World.”

Believe it or not, that scenario has played out several times since being in Turkey.

Once I had to make an emergency flight to Adana and when I got to the airport, I realized to my horror, I did not have my passport or Turkish ID card.  I called back to the Embassy and was told to try using my State Dept. ID.  So, I did and it wasn’t enough.  I pulled out the driver’s license and she said, “Yes, yes.  This will work.”  So I was able to make a round trip flight and check into my hotel in a foreign country with only my Texas driver’s license.  Amazing, even to me.

When I first arrived here, all three of us in the office hailed from Texas.  So the walls are adorned with the Texas flag, and four clocks: Turkey time, Greenwich Mean Time and two showing the time in Texas.  What else is needed?

Back in December, our Texas born Seabee returned to the States and his replacement is from California, or Florida or someplace bizarre.  So, he felt a bit slighted the office was a shrine to the Great State of Texas, and proceeded to let his opinions be known.

He took a Texas clock and placed a sticker on it insinuating the clock was showing Florida time instead.  A few weeks later, I replaced the clock with a Texas clock that could not be altered.  So far, it has remained.  Rightfully so.

The Marines at the Embassy have their own house, which understandably has a bar.  So, I purchased a Texas flag to hang where all could see and enjoy it.  As a gratuity for my actions, the Detachment Commander, “an American by birth and Texan by the grace of God”, purchased a special Texas glass for me to use when I am in their bar.  All Marines are told, that particular glass is for Mister Nolte and no one else is to use it.  It pays to be a Texan in so many ways.

While I was gone from the office one day, our little cleaning girl, Nadia, came in and cleaned.  Over by my cigar humidor, I have a bumper sticker my boss gave me which says, “… you may all go to hell and I will go to Texas”.  This is a quote from the Texas Hero, Col. David Crockett.

Someone told her what it said and she found it to be a beautifully profound statement.  I don’t really think she understood it, but it did have the words Hell and Texas in it, so she found it profound.  I know in some places in the State, the difference between Hell and Texas are not well defined.

Now, every time I see her in the hallway, she has this enormous smile she gives me.  The next time I am in the office when she shows up, I’ll give her the bumper sticker to enlighten her life.  She will probably name her firstborn after me.

Instead, I will tell her to name the little one, Samuel Houston or Stephen Fuller Austin!  Give the credit where it is due.

Keep kicking butt.  Dwaine (Texan)