Well, it’s been awhile since we visited.  In the meantime, a lot has taken place.  Good and not so good.

We left Turkey with a great deal of memories that will never subside, but the preparations to leave took a toll on both of us.  Transferring from one past to another is never easy, not just saying goodbyes, but the actual logistics of it all.  It started months before sorting and determining what to keep, what to discard and what to put in storage.  After the day when we saw a third of our belongings roll away, then came the scheduling and paperwork.  We had our final wingfest and several lunches and gatherings with Embassy personnel, and cleaned out our desks.

The last work day, before leaving the Embassy in a taxi (because our vehicle had already shipped out), I went through all the gates and shook hands with any guard I could find.  Some of the guards think more of me than they should and had tears in their eyes.  I would be lying if I told you it had no effect on me.  By the time I made it back to the main gate to leave, my hand and arm was sore from the handshaking.  The Turks have firm handshakes when they like you.

The next day, Saturday, I went back to the office to finish items left undone.  This included paperwork and archiving files off my computer.  But it also dealt with concealing ping pong balls in several places in the office.  One location was in an overhead shelf above my desk.  The Office Manager/Logistician is stickler for everything super clean.  I know the week after I leave, she will go to my desk and start cleaning it out.  She will open the top shelf and the 144 ping pong balls will flow out onto the desk.  And just to be sure it happens to her twice, I hid another 144 in a shelf above her desk that she doesn’t use often.  Someday, she will encounter those as well, if she hasn’t already.

Then leaving the Embassy compound for the last time, I spent a few minutes with more guards including the Most Handsomest Man in the Universe.  According to him, I am the second Most Handsomest Man in the Universe.

There are so many things to say about Turkey that it would take a blog spanning three years, but I can tell you, that it has made me an aggressive driver.  It has made me enjoy sour cream and yogurt more than before.  I developed a special friendship with Serkan who married our friend from Stinnett Texas.

… and a friendship with Burak, the guard supervisor who took us to Mogla.

We will miss our friend Stacy who has two masters degrees, but you would never know it from her bubbly love of life.  Her vibrant eyes constantly smile. And the little Taiwan friend, Ann who is working on her third degree.

We will miss Gozde with her Phd.  What little time I spent with her, she nurtured my passion for the creative spark of literature and the arts. I will miss my friend Ozlem who speaks five languages, three fluently.  Her English vocabulary rivals mine, and it is her third language.  I will miss our short discussions during coffee breaks in my office.  She would tell me things about her life that few others knew.  She once told me I was the girlfriend she never had.  I don’t know how to take that, but I think it was supposed to be good.

I will miss the vibrant Selin who uses any obstacle in Life to jump as high as she can.  I wish I could look into the future to see where all she lands!

And I will truly miss the smile on Nadjia’s face when she came to the office twice a week to clean.  Aside from the crazy Turks, Serkan and Burak, I think she made me laugh the most, just by being herself.  When she left each time she would say, See you later alligator.  And I would reply Afterwhile Crocodile, and she would reply Oinky doinky. (okey dokey)

On Sunday the 11^th, we were picked up at our apartment at 4am for a 6am flight.  I had to leave a few things undone like cleaning up the apartment before leaving.  This is one of the issues that make changing posts stressful.  No matter how hard you try, things will still be left undone.  I fear my life will be the same.

We arrived in Virginia for medical checkups, passport issues and getting our visas for Brazil.  I also had to apply and obtain a tax number from the Brazilian Embassy.  Once I finally found the place at 1:15pm, I saw that they close at 1pm every day.  No matter how hard you try, things never fall into place appropriately.  If that should ever happen, I will quickly go out and purchase a lottery ticket.  But all got done by jumping through the required hoops, and I headed to Texas while Terese went to New York to see her sister.  The two of them jumped in the car and made a trip to Nova Scotia.  A trip they had been planning for over a decade.  In the meantime, after getting to Texas, I took the little Miata out of storage (what MotherDear calls the Barbie car) and took a trip into the mountains of New Mexico which ended with a fishing trip with all my brothers, and then some.

After the fishing trip and Terese’s trip with her sister, we headed to Pampa to see several close friends, one on which who has cancer.  It was sad to see how far he had regressed since we last saw him.  I fear we may lose him too soon in the future.

At this point, we will stop the discussion until I am ready to discuss it further.  Instead I will tell you about Brazil next.

Last Thursday, a moving crew came in and packed up what we had in our apartment.  That was the forth pack-out we have endured.  Every time, things get packed up and things we need, do not.  So far, from what we can tell, we are missing a set of keys that may cost us somewhere about $200 to replace.

These people move so quickly, we have to be watching every move.  There were only three men, and only two of us.

Below are pictures of the packed up apartment after they were through. The next day, they came back and loaded everything into a truck and drove off.

And below is the remaining apartment minus one third of our worldly possessions.

… and who did the most work?We head out to Washington DC on Sunday morning. In the coming weeks, I will sit and think about this incredible country with its astounding people and visit with you about it.  It will be a few weeks.  Until then, kick butt.  D.

Nolte Wingfest

That term has become well known in the Embassy.

When we have one of these, we invite about 70 people in which only half show up.  So, 35 is really the limit for us to host in our apartment.  So this time, being our last, we obtained permission form the Embassy to use an area behind the cafeteria for a personal party.  It being on a weekend, we knew fewer would show up, but with the invitation going to pretty much everyone in the Embassy, we still had over a 100 people.  Below are a mess of pictures.  The first one is before people arrived.Then they began to trickle in. One thing that makes these so special to me, is the Marines who come and partake of these.  Every time, the wings left over go home with them to feed those who were not able to come.   I asked the Marines to sell beer and wine during the fest, which helps them support the Marine Ball. The two females are Marines who know how to shoot to kill.  Don’t let their petite sizes fool you.  Also, notice the Marines on the left who stop by to sample the wings while on duty.In reality, the pictures do not do the Fest justice, because they appear to show much fewer people.  I spent the time at the feeding trough dishing out food (above) and Terese spent time in the cafeteria cooking the wings, so what pictures we had were minimal.  But suffice to say, it was most enjoyable and we look forward to creating the WingFest extravaganza when we get to Sao Paulo.

We have a dear friend who recently had a birthday, and since she is such a dear friend, Terese and I offered our apartment to host a small wing party for her and a few close friends.  What follows are pictures of the celebration. Terese with two other good friends.  Stacy on the left who has two Masters degrees and our friend Ann, who I mentioned before with degrees in Mathematics, Physics and working on her Electrical Engineering degree, plus is a concert violinist.When we have these parties, most of the people hang out either in the kitchen or on the patio. … and getting down to business on lighting the cake.Some of Gozde’s guests. … and the Pretty Lady watching it all.I have mentioned before, how you never know people until you take the time to visit with them.  Below is a picture of Gozde, who has a PHD in whatever she teaches (she has told me but it goes over my head).   I have had several good conversations with her on literature and all the creativity it encompasses.I am always amazed, no, I am truly stunned when I discover what is inside those I meet.  Gozde is a unique 34 year old individual, that follows her own path in life and never looks back.  I am glad to consider her a friend like I do Selin with her gift of dance.  You never know what resides in people.  I am truly gifted to meet and know these people, who consider me a friend.

~ Never underestimate anyone!  D.

The week after the trip to Cappadocia, we took a week off and drove eight hours to a resort on the eastern edge of Turkey, near the town of Muğla.  The little ”ğ” with the funny hat is silent, but it indicates that the preceding vowel is extended.  So it is pronounced Moola.  The resort we stayed at, Han Sarigerme is owned by close friends of a local-guard supervisor at the Embassy.  The supervisor, Burak Ozbaba, and his wife Funda invited us to go with them.  Burack learned his English by working in the Southern part of the US, so he has a southern drawl.  Speaks very good English and like most Turkish men, ornery.With them, they had their little 6½ year old daughter which was a delight to be around.  If you ask her how old she is, she will tell you she is 7, because she doesn’t like having that ½ year business in her age.  She is actually very mature for a 6½ year, er seven-year-old and was not afraid of anything.  She literally spent at least half her waking hours in the pool.  Both parents spent time with her swimming and was nice to see the love of the three.  But many times she was by herself in the pool and she is such a good swimmer, they never worried about her.I used to be a good swimmer, but now when in the pool my butt end just sinks.  I can thrash around, but I don’t go anywhere but down.    – so I stayed out of the water.  As indicated below.Here is a butt load of pictures of the resort, and then I will tell you about the owners.  First the pool area. The front area with samples of food and drink: The little kitchen where the good food comes from:One day, Terese and got into the truck and took a five minute drive to the Mediterranean coast and sat on the beach a few hours.  In the first picture, look at the two women in the burka swimsuits.  Blue and green/brown.One of the more rockier beaches: Since the owner of the resort is a good friend of Burak, he set up a boat ride for us to enjoy.  Below are pictures taken.   Burak’s little one, Aysan wanted to steer the boat, so the captain put her on the stool and let her have it for awhile.We were scheduled to return on Saturday so we could recover before work on Monday, but that Friday before, had the “coup” that took place in Turkey.  I have much to say about the fiasco but it is wise for me not to say anything at this point.  But we were told by the Embassy in Turkey to stay put.  Luckily we were able to return the next day, Sunday.

So we ended up staying an extra night, Saturday night which happen to have a BBQ/party for the 11th wedding anniversary of the owners, Butch and Hundun.  Plus there were many other close friends who came to the dinner.  Below are pictures of the celebration. The next day we all gathered for a final picture.  There several of these and I had to find the best one of me smiling.  Understand, I was indeed smiling on the inside.This was truly an enjoyable and relaxing trip.  It was interrupted by the coup attempt which had many of the people in tears, but the resort was a good place to be at the time.  I realized the place was small and quint, yet it had the touches and style of the 4-5 star hotels I stay at.  Incredible place.  We are even discussing flying back here from Brazil, just to spend time at Han Sarigerme again.

This incredible city is one of the few places in the World that I feel uncomfortable being in.  Not near as much as the cities in Afghanistan, but still a place that my core does not like.  Hopefully, I will be there only once more before heading back to the States, and will leave it for the good man who will replace me in Ankara.

But, regardless of how I feel, I am amazed at the beauty of the place.  This may be hard for some of you to understand, but Gaziantep has some of the best food I have ever eaten, with the exception of BBQ in Ron’s backyard.

The only pictures I have to show you are of a section of the market area where several of us went to purchase lamps that are made in Gaziantep.  I purchased a set which we will leave packed up until we get to Sao Paulo. Below is the type of lamp I purchased.The following images are taken inside the first coffee company in Turkey.  Or at least that is what I am told.I went up the stairs and took the following pictures below. A picture of the Brew-Master below.The group of us trying the pistachio coffee.  An amazing smooth and sweet coffee!And lastly, a quiet evening outside the hotel before leaving the next morning.We are heading to a resort in MUĞLA, Turkey Monday morning and will take a week-long and well deserved vacation.  I should be able to post another butt-load of pictures.