Wednesday, December 29, 2010
End of 2010 thoughts
Saturday, December 18, 2010
My Auto Accident Story...Sorry, No Pix
For anyone who has never driven in another country, I just have to say, you don’t know what you’re missing. The Autobahn was fun if a little intimidating in Germany. Driving on the left is fun but a little tense at times in England. But nothing is like driving in Adana, Turkey. I almost qualified it, but I can just leave it at that.
So there I was driving along being cool keeping an eye on everyone else as we tooled down a two lane road with pedestrians walking down where a center line is supposed to be, cars 4 abreast, and all in a huge hurry (except the pedestrians who amble and sometimes stop to kiss their friends, chat and drink some tea.) Suddenly through the smoky haze and the dimming light as the afternoon began to turn to dusk, I saw a wooden barrier across the road with an arrow pointing left and one pointing right. The road was blocked for construction, so having turned left on a previous trip, I knew to turn right. I jumped in behind a dolmus (minibus-taxi) and the four lanes converged into one narrow lane complete with pedestrians who think they are bigger and stronger than cars, and headed for the detour around the construction. About 100 meters into the detour, all traffic came to a halt. Cars were parked in the middle of the road about four cars deep and there was no way anybody was going anywhere. I gasped for air as I felt the press of cars coming in behind me. I was fairly sure I would be there for days, but my traveling companion, Kimberly, brave little toaster, suggested that I just back up into the onslaught. I figured if we were going to survive I had no option, so I put the car in reverse and wound my way back to a wide spot, did a twelve point turnaround and busted out of there barely able to breathe from the claustrophobia. Now Kimberly and I weren’t afraid, but we were ready to go home and not keen on spending the night in an impromptu parking lot while others around us abandoned their cars and commenced to partying.
So I found an alternate path and tried to pay attention to Carol, my Garmin, but she didn’t seem to have any better idea than I did about how to get out of downtown old Adana and kept saying “turn left, you idiot!...TURN LEFT…re-calcu-recalculating” so I tuned her out. Kimberly was much more encouraging saying things like “I think we are headed in the right direction” or “I feel good about this.” As we wound around buses and fruit carts and bicyclists and motor-scooters with husband, wife, two kids, three sacks of groceries and a 5 liter water-bottle on board, I began to see the congested traffic thin out a little to like three across in a one way road and the dust start to settle. By the way, a one way road in Turkey means basically that traffic can only go one way at a time. The cars at one end wait until they get enough strength and numbers and then charge into the road forcing the cars that were coming to the other way to stop and make room. And so it goes until the traffic is ready to go the other direction. I knew we were almost home, just ten more minutes and I had needed to use the WC for almost an hour. As we rounded a corner I saw the mosque and told Kimberly we were almost there, and suddenly, WHAM! A dolmus hit the rear passenger side fender causing a significant dent and scrape along the rear side of the car. I immediately came to a stop in the crowded street and got out to check the damage and perhaps talk with the driver of the dolmus who sped away, shouting “TAMAM” which means “IT’S OKAY!” I shouted “YOK, it’s not tamam!” while pointing to the damaged fender and gesturing wildly. Perhaps he sped away because he thought I might be crazy. At any rate, I was left there with a small crowd of Turks shaking their heads and looking at me like, “Man this sucks for you, because we don’t speak English and you don’t speak Turkish!” I called Ismail, the Hertz guy next, who is awesome and one of the most generous people I have met. He had said with his beautiful accent and no understanding of idiom or context, “As I have told you many times, Mr. Phillips, if you have an accident, to call me first, not the police or anyone else. Don’t you understand?” This was not said because I am so dense that he had to repeat himself to get it through my thick skull. He said it maybe twice to make sure I got the point. If an American said that to me I would assume he was trying to make me feel stupid. This was definitely not the case, but while I was standing on the street with the banged up butt of my car sticking out in traffic interrupting the “flow” for lack of a better word, being stared at like a circus freak waiting for the police, listening to Ismail telling me “I have been telling you, Mr. Phillips to not move the car and I will be there in a few minutes, maybe twenty”, I admit I felt kind of stupid.
The Police arrived within about 10 minutes and spoke even less English than I speak Turkish, so I handed them my papers, registration, Florida Driver’s License and quickly informed them “Turkce bilmiyorum” (I don’t speak Turkish). I must have mispronounced something because they then asked me if I speak Turkish and again I told them “Turkce bilmiyorum”. Then they said something else to me and I told them “Anlamyorum” (I don’t understand you). That must have worked because they started to laugh and patted me on the back saying “Tamam.” I had to call Ismail a couple of times to have him interpret while the police report was being completed and my breathalyzer was being administered but I remembered that as a guest in their country I had to be very civil. So I used almost every Turkce word I knew and told them all sorts of interesting things like My name is Garry, I like Turkey, Turkey is very nice, I am American (I thought I heard them say in plain English “No shit.”) At least I hope that’s what I told them. They were very good natured and tried a few English words, but our conversation usually sounded like, “My name is Garry, My name is Fahti, I like Turkey, Do you like Turkey, I am American, No shit, Where are you from, My name is Garry,” and so on. They taught me to say “Ben Tarsus idiorum” which I think means “I go to Tarsus today.” Again I hope that’s what it means because they had me say it a few times and laughed each time. I think I generated some good will because at the end of our interaction, after they told me that I had to come back downtown tomorrow to pick up my copy of the police report, we all slobbered, kissed, hugged and shook hands and went our merry ways.
So then I followed Ismail In the dark, on a hair raising trek back through all the traffic, unlit one way roads, the same pedestrians but all now dressed in black (undetectable but for the glow of their cigarettes), fruit carts, etc to the Hertz office where we decided not to change out the car for a less damaged one. I wanted by that time to say, “What the hell, Ismail? This one looked like a demolition derby car when we picked it up, do you really think another dent or scratch will show?!” But I restrained myself. He must have detected that I was going to say something smug, because, and I think it was deliberate, he gave us alternate directions to get back to the base to avoid the traffic, construction etc. I and Kimberly listened carefully, because we were ready to call it a night, and even asked him to repeat it and then we regurgitated it back for his approval, and he said we were exactly right. We did exactly as told and drove right down a dark pot-holed one way road with very few people on it and those who were out, stared at us through Hashish clouded eyes. That road dead ended and we had to turn right down an even darker road - Ismail had not mentioned a dead end or a right turn. I had to use the brights because it was so dark and like I said before, everybody was dressed in black. We drove very slowly down a road that suddenly turned across a bridge. We had turned on the GPS again and Carol was saying turn right, Kimberly was saying turn right and I was shouting, WHERE? Then suddenly there it was, a right turn over a rickety bridge that crossed a black abyss then down a one lane, two way road with the bottomless black chasm on one side and people and cars, and trucks on the other coming the other direction, some with only one headlight so I couldn’t see where the body of the vehicle was until it was right on me. Then the road ended and we had the same shouting match in the car, “Turn right!” “Where?!” another bridge, across a sudden major highway that I had been on two hours earlier in that same spot (actually it as the third time today that I passed that same spot), down an alley into a muddy field where cars were driving all directions and back onto a road that had huge potholes and asphalt jutting up out of the road here and there, and more people all dressed in black, and Carol saying “turn right, turn right, turn left, re-calc-re-calculating”. All of a sudden there it was like a sign from the heavens: the mosque was again before us but this time we were right on top of it in all it’s glowing nighttime splendor. I then saw the Hilton Hotel on the other side of the river and I exclaimed to Kimberly, “I know where we are” and again for effect, “I KNOW WHERE WE ARE!” Almost weeping I persevered down that four lane, divided highway, with it’s beautiful lines dividing the lanes, and only three cars across my side of the highway. All the way back to base for almost 10 km I thanked God for protecting us, keeping us safe and not letting me get thrown in Turkish Prison.
I have my Turkish phrasebook but I just hope that when I go downtown to the Traffic Control Office to get my Traffic Control report tomorrow, inshallah, somebody there can speak English.
Tamam, Now I feel better.
So there I was driving along being cool keeping an eye on everyone else as we tooled down a two lane road with pedestrians walking down where a center line is supposed to be, cars 4 abreast, and all in a huge hurry (except the pedestrians who amble and sometimes stop to kiss their friends, chat and drink some tea.) Suddenly through the smoky haze and the dimming light as the afternoon began to turn to dusk, I saw a wooden barrier across the road with an arrow pointing left and one pointing right. The road was blocked for construction, so having turned left on a previous trip, I knew to turn right. I jumped in behind a dolmus (minibus-taxi) and the four lanes converged into one narrow lane complete with pedestrians who think they are bigger and stronger than cars, and headed for the detour around the construction. About 100 meters into the detour, all traffic came to a halt. Cars were parked in the middle of the road about four cars deep and there was no way anybody was going anywhere. I gasped for air as I felt the press of cars coming in behind me. I was fairly sure I would be there for days, but my traveling companion, Kimberly, brave little toaster, suggested that I just back up into the onslaught. I figured if we were going to survive I had no option, so I put the car in reverse and wound my way back to a wide spot, did a twelve point turnaround and busted out of there barely able to breathe from the claustrophobia. Now Kimberly and I weren’t afraid, but we were ready to go home and not keen on spending the night in an impromptu parking lot while others around us abandoned their cars and commenced to partying.
So I found an alternate path and tried to pay attention to Carol, my Garmin, but she didn’t seem to have any better idea than I did about how to get out of downtown old Adana and kept saying “turn left, you idiot!...TURN LEFT…re-calcu-recalculating” so I tuned her out. Kimberly was much more encouraging saying things like “I think we are headed in the right direction” or “I feel good about this.” As we wound around buses and fruit carts and bicyclists and motor-scooters with husband, wife, two kids, three sacks of groceries and a 5 liter water-bottle on board, I began to see the congested traffic thin out a little to like three across in a one way road and the dust start to settle. By the way, a one way road in Turkey means basically that traffic can only go one way at a time. The cars at one end wait until they get enough strength and numbers and then charge into the road forcing the cars that were coming to the other way to stop and make room. And so it goes until the traffic is ready to go the other direction. I knew we were almost home, just ten more minutes and I had needed to use the WC for almost an hour. As we rounded a corner I saw the mosque and told Kimberly we were almost there, and suddenly, WHAM! A dolmus hit the rear passenger side fender causing a significant dent and scrape along the rear side of the car. I immediately came to a stop in the crowded street and got out to check the damage and perhaps talk with the driver of the dolmus who sped away, shouting “TAMAM” which means “IT’S OKAY!” I shouted “YOK, it’s not tamam!” while pointing to the damaged fender and gesturing wildly. Perhaps he sped away because he thought I might be crazy. At any rate, I was left there with a small crowd of Turks shaking their heads and looking at me like, “Man this sucks for you, because we don’t speak English and you don’t speak Turkish!” I called Ismail, the Hertz guy next, who is awesome and one of the most generous people I have met. He had said with his beautiful accent and no understanding of idiom or context, “As I have told you many times, Mr. Phillips, if you have an accident, to call me first, not the police or anyone else. Don’t you understand?” This was not said because I am so dense that he had to repeat himself to get it through my thick skull. He said it maybe twice to make sure I got the point. If an American said that to me I would assume he was trying to make me feel stupid. This was definitely not the case, but while I was standing on the street with the banged up butt of my car sticking out in traffic interrupting the “flow” for lack of a better word, being stared at like a circus freak waiting for the police, listening to Ismail telling me “I have been telling you, Mr. Phillips to not move the car and I will be there in a few minutes, maybe twenty”, I admit I felt kind of stupid.
The Police arrived within about 10 minutes and spoke even less English than I speak Turkish, so I handed them my papers, registration, Florida Driver’s License and quickly informed them “Turkce bilmiyorum” (I don’t speak Turkish). I must have mispronounced something because they then asked me if I speak Turkish and again I told them “Turkce bilmiyorum”. Then they said something else to me and I told them “Anlamyorum” (I don’t understand you). That must have worked because they started to laugh and patted me on the back saying “Tamam.” I had to call Ismail a couple of times to have him interpret while the police report was being completed and my breathalyzer was being administered but I remembered that as a guest in their country I had to be very civil. So I used almost every Turkce word I knew and told them all sorts of interesting things like My name is Garry, I like Turkey, Turkey is very nice, I am American (I thought I heard them say in plain English “No shit.”) At least I hope that’s what I told them. They were very good natured and tried a few English words, but our conversation usually sounded like, “My name is Garry, My name is Fahti, I like Turkey, Do you like Turkey, I am American, No shit, Where are you from, My name is Garry,” and so on. They taught me to say “Ben Tarsus idiorum” which I think means “I go to Tarsus today.” Again I hope that’s what it means because they had me say it a few times and laughed each time. I think I generated some good will because at the end of our interaction, after they told me that I had to come back downtown tomorrow to pick up my copy of the police report, we all slobbered, kissed, hugged and shook hands and went our merry ways.
So then I followed Ismail In the dark, on a hair raising trek back through all the traffic, unlit one way roads, the same pedestrians but all now dressed in black (undetectable but for the glow of their cigarettes), fruit carts, etc to the Hertz office where we decided not to change out the car for a less damaged one. I wanted by that time to say, “What the hell, Ismail? This one looked like a demolition derby car when we picked it up, do you really think another dent or scratch will show?!” But I restrained myself. He must have detected that I was going to say something smug, because, and I think it was deliberate, he gave us alternate directions to get back to the base to avoid the traffic, construction etc. I and Kimberly listened carefully, because we were ready to call it a night, and even asked him to repeat it and then we regurgitated it back for his approval, and he said we were exactly right. We did exactly as told and drove right down a dark pot-holed one way road with very few people on it and those who were out, stared at us through Hashish clouded eyes. That road dead ended and we had to turn right down an even darker road - Ismail had not mentioned a dead end or a right turn. I had to use the brights because it was so dark and like I said before, everybody was dressed in black. We drove very slowly down a road that suddenly turned across a bridge. We had turned on the GPS again and Carol was saying turn right, Kimberly was saying turn right and I was shouting, WHERE? Then suddenly there it was, a right turn over a rickety bridge that crossed a black abyss then down a one lane, two way road with the bottomless black chasm on one side and people and cars, and trucks on the other coming the other direction, some with only one headlight so I couldn’t see where the body of the vehicle was until it was right on me. Then the road ended and we had the same shouting match in the car, “Turn right!” “Where?!” another bridge, across a sudden major highway that I had been on two hours earlier in that same spot (actually it as the third time today that I passed that same spot), down an alley into a muddy field where cars were driving all directions and back onto a road that had huge potholes and asphalt jutting up out of the road here and there, and more people all dressed in black, and Carol saying “turn right, turn right, turn left, re-calc-re-calculating”. All of a sudden there it was like a sign from the heavens: the mosque was again before us but this time we were right on top of it in all it’s glowing nighttime splendor. I then saw the Hilton Hotel on the other side of the river and I exclaimed to Kimberly, “I know where we are” and again for effect, “I KNOW WHERE WE ARE!” Almost weeping I persevered down that four lane, divided highway, with it’s beautiful lines dividing the lanes, and only three cars across my side of the highway. All the way back to base for almost 10 km I thanked God for protecting us, keeping us safe and not letting me get thrown in Turkish Prison.
I have my Turkish phrasebook but I just hope that when I go downtown to the Traffic Control Office to get my Traffic Control report tomorrow, inshallah, somebody there can speak English.
Tamam, Now I feel better.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Türkçe bilmiyorum
(T-yerk-cheh beel-mee-yor-uhm) That means "I don’t speak Turkish". A great phrase to know. Most folks know little or no English in the middle and eastern Türkiye. I guess that's part of wandering around in a strange
land. You gotta know a couple of words like how to say Thanks, Please, Hello. Once Turks realize that verbal communication ain’t gonna happen, they laugh and offer me some tea (Chai). When I walk away I am Ahbi, or brother. I was in Konya yesterday for the Mevlana festival, walking down an alley alone and came across a little boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old, begging for money as the snow fell around us. I told him in Turkish that I don’t speak Turkish and didn’t understand him and he asked for one Lira. I gave him 1.50, all the change I had. With very happy and very lost eyes, he smiled and took my hand and placed it to his grubby cheek. I walked away haunted by this child. I saw him a short while later and he looked at me, smiled and slightly bowed his head
with eyes closed. Nobody who was with me that day saw him and I didn’t take a picture of him. Either I put a little light into the darkness of just a lonely, invisible soul in the world who begged for his family or human traffickers, who I connected with for a moment in time or he was an angel who for that brief moment reminded me of how good I have it and how especially in the Christmas season, that charity is the best gift of all. First Corinthians 13:13. Not a quote; just a reference.
Incidentally Dervishes take a vow of poverty and begging for them is a means of keeping oneself humble, but begging for oneself is not allowed...only begging for charity. Like Orthodox Jews, giving to the poor and needy is just what you do without question.
These pics are me n the snow in Konya, me with Izet and Aihan (local boys) in Karataş (beach
town), the inside of the Church of St. Peter in Antioch, or Antakya (which Peter started and Paul also preached), and a 2000 year old local Mosaic at the Mosaic Museum of Antioch. You can guess what the video is, but watch it on small screen; it looks better than if you enlarge it.
Incidentally Dervishes take a vow of poverty and begging for them is a means of keeping oneself humble, but begging for oneself is not allowed...only begging for charity. Like Orthodox Jews, giving to the poor and needy is just what you do without question.
These pics are me n the snow in Konya, me with Izet and Aihan (local boys) in Karataş (beach
Sunday, November 28, 2010
KAPADOKYA
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Merhaba (hello) from Turkey
Sunday, August 8, 2010
one more trip to London
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
It's all Greek to me...
I guess I forgot that line is from "Julius Caesar" by Shakespeare. I saw the play by the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-Upon-Avon last weekend. Nice little town. Not a lot to do for a whole weekend but I tried. WS was born and buried there and it's a lovely town despite the hoards of tourists. Over the past 2 weeks I went to the Jurassic Coast near Dorset and Bournemouth and spent a Sunday at Blenheim Palace, the birthplace of Winston Churchill and home of the Dukes of Marlborough. England continues to be amazing and interesting, but now after 2 1/2 months away from my homestead, I am getting excited about going home in a couple more weeks. These pics are: typical roads to anywhere not on a major carriageway, Blenheim Palace, Corfe Castle Ruins, and the "Durdle Door" near Dorset.
Monday, July 19, 2010
England part 2
I know it's been a couple of weeks since my last post but, I have been settling in here in Banbury England. Very nice town and everything is within walking distance except Tesco which is about a mile away (that's kinda like a WalMart). I work in 2 places. One is about an hours drive and goes down little lanes and streets, although they are pretty standard as far as roads go. My Dodge wouldn't be skinny enough. I am posting some pictures here of some very English stuff. but also I am posting a picture of me at the Black Pearl which was in Oahu for some prep work as they start to make the fourth chapter in the Pirates of the Caribbean. In these pic you can see the kind of roads I deal with, Stonehenge (not pictured is the stone circles at Avebury - very cool), The Salibury Cathedral (not one steak place could I find), and the Royal Jordanian Falcon Fight team performing at the RIAT Royal International Air Tattoo at RAF Fairford this past weekend. At least 14 different countries displayed their air prowess including the USA and the F-22 Raptor, the 50 year old British Vulcan, a B-52, the Bristish Red Arrows and an amazing French Team (they apparently have a cup holder for a wine glass and if they can fly without spilling they make the team and avoid the firing squad for alcohol abuse (think about it a minute - it will sink in). I also took a video of Blake's airplane...not his actual one but a British Harrier, but my son knows how to fix them. Next weekend I plan to go to Stratford upon Avon and maybe take in a play at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
ALOHA Hawai'i Ne
Monday, June 21, 2010
It just keeps getting better
First things first: Happy Father's Day to all the great fathers in my life, especially MY DAD. By the way, I published this post on Father's Day but I can figure out how to make my post reflect that...whatever, I am in Hawai'i so it's really no big deal.


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So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, I like Hawai'i. I think there are legitimate reasons for people thinking of it as paradise. I have met some great local folks, made some cool new friends, and eaten some amazing food. I think there is too much; let me sum up. Green sea turtles (honu), peacocks, wild pigs, hula shows, Lanikai Beach, Shark's Cove swimming and snorkeling with honu and humuhumunukunukuapua'a, King Kamehameha Day, oil still bubbling up from the USS Arizona, Koko Crater (1207 ft and 1048 steps up and then back down), pineapple plants as far as the eye can see near the Dole Plantation, and the ever present anuenue. Hard to believ in 2 weeks I will be pau here and flying back to Pcola for a day of rest before jetting off the England again. Hopefully this time the Queen will have a few minutes in her busy schedule to have cream tea with me. First however, I have to continue to work here in paradise (mostly on my tan) so until my next blog entry...Aloha.
.JPG)
So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, I like Hawai'i. I think there are legitimate reasons for people thinking of it as paradise. I have met some great local folks, made some cool new friends, and eaten some amazing food. I think there is too much; let me sum up. Green sea turtles (honu), peacocks, wild pigs, hula shows, Lanikai Beach, Shark's Cove swimming and snorkeling with honu and humuhumunukunukuapua'a, King Kamehameha Day, oil still bubbling up from the USS Arizona, Koko Crater (1207 ft and 1048 steps up and then back down), pineapple plants as far as the eye can see near the Dole Plantation, and the ever present anuenue. Hard to believ in 2 weeks I will be pau here and flying back to Pcola for a day of rest before jetting off the England again. Hopefully this time the Queen will have a few minutes in her busy schedule to have cream tea with me. First however, I have to continue to work here in paradise (mostly on my tan) so until my next blog entry...Aloha.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Beaches & Rainforests
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Aloha
Three days on Oahu and already I have driven around 2/3 of the island. The pictures I will post here cannot quite capture the brilliant colors of Flamboyan and Bouganvillas, the staggering odor of Plumeria/Frangi Pani, the noise of waves, birds, and ukeleles, the taste of fresh mangoes or the feel of a light and cool mist coming from a sky with no clouds. So far, yeah, I can see why people like Hawaii. I snorkelled this morning in Hanauma Bay (and got a little burnt) and drove up this afternoon through the mountains above Honolulu. Yesterday after work in Wahiawa, I cruised past North Shore and on around the north of the island. I am learning some new words for things but not ready to use them on my blog yet, but stand by, I will. More to come This is my view from my bedroom, me at some roadside park, Hanauma Bay and a view of Waikiki and Diamond Head.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Just say no to volcanoes
Since my last post a volcano blew its top in Iceland grounding all air traffic in England for alost a week. I was only left in London for 3 days of that so I took advantage of the unplanned holiday. I met some great people and managed to use my time well with good company (thanks Brenda, Maree and Bill). I wrapped it up and left room for more exploring when I return to England this summer after having to do a little hard time in Hawaii. But for now, I am home again and recuperated. Things to do and a quick trip to Tennessee and I will hit the road again in a few weeks. Here are a few pics of my last days in England. I went to see a play, went to Windsor Castle (again the queen refused to see me), the palace guard wouldn't talk to me, I interpretted the Rosetta Stone, and marveled with people in town at the sight of the first planes as we all stared up in awe. Here's a pic of me outside of my hotel in London...this explains how I got out on one of the first planes. Don't ask
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