The story of my life

It was twenty years ago today when Long Time Gone was born into the blogosphere. What a ride it has been! Of course, things seldom go as planned, but I had no clue at the time that the journey I was about to embark on would completely and irrevocably change everything and lead me to places beyond my wildest imagination. In my “do-over” afterlife fantasy, there are many things I would change, but making the move to Korea and leaving my vanilla American life behind forever is not one of them. Here’s what I had to say twenty years ago in my first blog post, “And So It Begins”:

I’m moving to Seoul, Korea. Although the general consensus among family and friends is that I’ve lost my mind (which I don’t necessarily deny), this is something of a calling for me. One of my biggest regrets in life was not serving in the military. My father and two brothers are Army vets. My daughter is currently serving her second tour in Afghanistan with the 82nd Airborne. I am incredibly proud of her and all our troops who are sacrificing so much to defend our freedom and to bring freedom from tyranny to others. Sitting on the sidelines watching these incredible men and women making a difference in the world has only exacerbated my desire to find some tangible way to make a contribution in support of our military. Of course, at 49 my options are somewhat limited. I have been a federal civilian employee for over 28 years, and so for the past several months I have been applying for civilian jobs with the Department of Defense. I was not selected for a position I applied for in Iraq, but the Army offered me a job in South Korea and I have accepted. I don’t presume to think that doing a civilian gig in Seoul is heroic or particularly self-sacrificing, but if in some small way I can play a part in our national defense, I am proud to do so.

Ok, that’s the altruistic reason for going, such as it is. On a more personal level, I have lived a very comfortable life. Too comfortable perhaps. The chance to live and work overseas in a totally alien culture seems to be an exciting opportunity to get out of my box and experience a new lifestyle. Yes, I am looking forward to the adventure. Of course, the nature of adventure is the not knowing how things will turn out. I know I will miss my family and friends and everything that is familiar and wonderfully American. I have made a two-year commitment to the Army, and if I am miserable and lost and lonely, well I will deal with it and learn what I can from the experience. Going in, I have a positive attitude and believe that I have the power to determine what I gain and how I grow as I live this new life.

So, this blog will serve as a diary of my life in Korea. It will be a place where I share my thoughts on what I am seeing, doing, and learning. And since I am fairly political and opinionated, there will likely be some commentary on my views on world events. I have been a blog reader since I discovered the blogosphere shortly after 9/11. This is my first attempt at writing a blog, and that will be part of the adventure I am undertaking.

My original intent when starting LTG was to have an easy way to stay in touch and share with my friends and family back home what was happening in my Korean life. These days, no one from those long ago times reads the blog or cares about me and my so-called life here in the Philippines. Everything changes, but this journey of mine still goes on until I finally reach the end of my road. And I intend to keep writing this public diary of mine even if no one cares enough to read it. I know I have a handful of loyal followers, and that means a lot to me, even if your reward is being subjected to my daily dose of drivel. Thank you!

I have occasionally fantasized about writing the story of my life. Perhaps one day, my descendants will want to learn more about that crazy relative who left everything behind and moved to Asia. In some ways, this blog fulfills that purpose. My plan now is to spend the next few months scrolling through the archives for the rare post that might be worthy of inclusion in my unwritten autobiography. I’ve created a new tag, “The story of my life,” to add to those posts so they will be easy to find in the future. And I’ll share a link to those stories with my readers as I find them.

Over the past twenty years, I have written 5,326 posts and received 17,181 comments. Happy blogiversary! I hope you’ll stick around to see what happens next.

And here’s what happened yesterday:

The morning dog walk to start the day

And then it was time for the Wednesday Walkers group hike. We took a Jeepney out to the far side of Subic and commenced our hike from there.

Out of the Jeepney
And off we go!
Leaving the city behind
Catching up after a pee stop
Bushy grasses would be our bane for much of the hike
Mostly flat, but this was a tricky down
We last came this way in March. It wasn’t so overgrown with plant life back then.
Ah, the wide-open spaces!
It’s so much easier to walk on the dirt road. It didn’t last long, though.
Working the fields
Graffiti, Filipino-style
Village life
The road’s gone, but the grass is low for now.
Lollipop delivery
Pausing for the group shot. Biggest turnout we’ve had for a while.
A hard-working carabao
Life on the farm
Marching single file
It held her!
And then it got wet and muddy
How muddy? This muddy.
We needed to cross the river, but some of us wanted a better option for doing so.
Washing the mud off our shoes was an added benefit
The carabao didn’t mind us passing through his turf
That bridge most of us didn’t take
These two gals did, though
Well done, Beth
This cow was a little freaked out seeing us pass through. At least he ran the other way instead of at us.
And then there was another water crossing
No dry shoe option this time
Through the fields we go
It seems strange to grow a crop in the riverbed, but whatever it takes
Slippin’ on down to the river
And then wading across
There is freedom in wet feet–you don’t have to care anymore.
Through another small village
Then back on the pavement
All the Jeepneys passing by were full
But then we were able to flag down a passing Victory Line and rode back to Barretto in comfort
Just about 6.5K from start to finish

Swan and I killed the evening hours with visits to It Doesn’t Matter and a nightcap at Wet Spot.

I made it, but just barely.

Remembering when we were a family:

Both my brothers are still alive; I just never hear from them anymore.

And now for a taste of politics:

Funny and sad how that works

In today’s YouTube video, Reekay recounts the sad tale of expat Ted. I spend more than I should and have depleted a sizeable chunk of my savings, but that monthly government pension deposit is ample to keep me living large—at least until the USA goes bankrupt. Avoiding four years of Kamala spending might be the miracle we’ve needed.

And some humor, if you please:

That kid is going places!
Time to wrap it up, Kirk
Maybe it’s a hump too far

Anyway, here’s to hoping it will be a Long Time Gone before my blogging days are over. I ain’t in no hurry to give it up.

The end of the road

before.JPG 

Before Government service

then-and-now.jpg 

After Government Service.

What a long, strange trip it’s been.

So, today I’m being honored with a retirement luncheon at Hartell House (the CG’s mess).  I’m never all that comfortable being in the spotlight, but these milestones in life seem to demand some ceremony so I’ll make the best of it and be gracious and appreciative.  Since it’s also expected that I make some remarks I’ve been thinking about that as well.  I was going to write down some talking points, but I’ve decided to just wing it instead.  I can’t help but think of it as akin to giving your own eulogy, but I’m going to try and keep it upbeat and hopefully I’ll avoid getting emotional.  Letting go of my job is in some ways like parting with an old friend.  I know it’s time to say goodbye, but that doesn’t make it any easier. 

So, I had some odd jobs here and there, some more steady than others.  But my career in Federal service began on October 27, 1976 when I took the oath of office and became a letter carrier with the United States Postal Service in Anaheim, California.  The starting pay was $5.25 an hour, which wasn’t that good even back then.  The job did have pretty good benefits though, chief among them from my perspective was the ability to retire at age 55. 

Well, here I am 55 years old.  So I guess it could be said that with my retirement I have now achieved the goal I set for myself 34 years ago.  But I did have some fun and some adventures along the way.  I’m not sure there is anything you can say upon reaching the retirement milestone that hasn’t been said before or that isn’t a tired cliché.  But yeah, if life is a journey then your working life is a journey within that journey.  And here’s some of my story. 

Working as a mailman was actually a pretty cool job.  Except for the dogs and supervisors with unreasonable expectations.  I carried pepper spray for the dogs and became a union steward to deal with the supervisors, so it worked out ok I guess.  A couple of years after starting with the Postal Service I could afford to have a second child, and so with some assistance from my then-wife, I acquired a son to complement my daughter. 

Now, back in those days I used to really enjoy getting out of the city for some camping out.  The in-laws owned some property in Arizona that we used for this purpose and the thought occurred that wouldn’t it be great to actually LIVE there.  So, I dropped in for a visit with the Postmaster of Prescott, Arizona and as fate would have he was looking to hire a letter carrier.  So, next thing I knew I was packing up the U-Haul truck and making the big move. 

Living and working in Arizona was like a dream come true.  I bought my first house, became president of the local union, and founded a softball association.  I was living the American dream for sure and figured I was set for life.  Ah, but things do change, don’t they?  They wife and I split up and I found myself with custody of a 5 year old and a 3 year old.  And being a single parent was really, really hard work.  I’d get up a six, feed and dress the kids, drop them at daycare, carry my mail route, pick up the kids, feed and bathe them, collapse in exhaustion, then get up and do it all over again the next day.  After a few months of this routine I cried “uncle!”.  Actually, I cried “mother” as in, mom I need some help. 

Now, my parents had retired to a small hobby farm in Poteau, Oklahoma.  The nearest city of any size was Fort Smith, Arkansas.  And after a meeting with the HR Director, Ms. Bobbie McLaine, my transfer request was approved. You know, there was some culture shock when I first moved here to Korea.  But really not as much as I experienced as a California city boy living in the rural south.  I think the natives were as wary of me as I was of them, and the first year there was the loneliest of my life.  Everyday I would berate myself as I shouldered my mail satchel and walked my route in stifling heat and humidity.  I considered moving to Arkansas the absolute worst mistake I had ever made. The kids were thriving though having quickly adjusted to life on the farm.  

So, I made it through that first summer.  And as bad as an Arkansas summer was, the winter was worse.  I was now spending my days walking up and down icy pathways and porch steps.  And falling on my ass with alarming frequency.  Even when the weather was good, the work had become routine and mind-numbingly boring. It was becoming harder and harder to imagine myself carrying the mail until I reached retirement eligibility. And so I started applying for some management jobs.  Of course, I wasn’t really qualified for anything but that didn’t stop me.  There was a job open in the safety office and I figured anyone could do that!  So, one day Bobbie McLaine, the HR Director came down to the workroom and asked me if I wanted to ride with her to a scheduled labor-management meeting in Fayetteville.  Seeing as how I was a union official and I didn’t want to be viewed as sucking up to management, I declined her offer.  A little later, Dixie (the HR Director’s secretary) came to see me and she said “John, don’t you want that safety job?  Bobbie wanted you to ride with her so she could talk with you about the job”.  Oops!  Well, I made sure I was seated next to Bobbie at lunch.  And I got the job! 

Here’s the thing about Fort Smith–it was a pretty small pond.  Which made it pretty easy to be a big fish.  In addition to safety, I was soon tasked with being the labor relations representative.  And then I took on the responsibilities of being the Public Affairs Officer.  And pretty much anything else that needed to be done when there wasn’t a body to do it.  You really learn a lot that way and I seemed to have a knack for getting it right, at least most of the time. 

Now, I’ll confess to having an ego.  And I got thinking I just might need a slightly larger pond to hold it.  Of all my duties, I enjoyed labor relations the most so I started applying for every vacancy I could find.  I finally scored an interview in Charleston, South Carolina.  So, I flew out there and found the city quite charming and to my liking.  I thought I handled the interview well and afterwards one of the panel members, Jack Mabe, asked to speak with me.  He said I have your application for a job on my staff in Columbia and I’d like to interview you for that while you are here.  Naturally, I agreed. 

Now, I didn’t have any “real” LR experience other than the ad hoc stuff I was doing in Fort Smith and my union background.   The Charleston job was a small step up, but the Columbia job would constitute a huge promotion.  The interview with Jack didn’t take long–ever done an arbitration?  No.  How about an EEO case?  No.  What about MSPB?  I didn’t even know what that was.  He then asked a final question–which job would I prefer, Charleston or Columbia.  Well, what could I say?  I told him that I really liked Charleston and I thought that with my level of experience it was a better fit.  He thanked me and I left. When I made it back to my office in Fort Smith there was a message from Jack Mabe offering me the job in Columbia.  I accepted and moved to a city I had never seen.  I asked Jack later why he picked me and he said because you didn’t know anything so you wouldn’t have to unlearn any bad habits. 

Well, I was definitely way in over my head those first few months in Columbia.  But Jack was a great mentor and I learned how to do things his way which as it so happens was also the right way.  I gained confidence and competence and starting having enough success that I was getting noticed by some higher ups.  This led to an opportunity to be detailed as the Director of HR in Roanoke, VA and to doing some arbitration’s for areas outside of Columbia. 

And then came a major Postal Service reorganization.  One of those downsizing efforts to remove unneeded layers of management that seem to take place in organizations every few years.  All I was told for sure was that my Columbia job would no longer exist and that hopefully “something” would be found for me somewhere.  It was a tough time that drug on for several tortuous months.  In the end I wound up with a promotion working for the newly created Mid-Atlantic Area (one of 10 reporting directly to USPS HQ).  The best part was I could remain in Columbia because the job was traveling throughout the mid-Atlantic states doing arbitration, EEO and MSPB hearings! 

It was my dream job.  I was on the road 3 weeks out of the month, but in those days air travel was not such a bitch.  I really liked being the hired gun that came into town to handle the toughest cases.  And I won enough of them to gain a reputation for excellence.  I did this for several years and then my boss, Barry Swinehart, got promoted to the Area Director of HR.  He said he hoped I’d be applying for his old job as the Area LR manager.  I told him I already had the perfect job and lived in a perfect city and that I had no interest in living in the DC area (Arlington, VA).  Later he asked me to at least come up for a detail in the job.  I again declined. 

Then one day he called and said “John, I need you to do me a favor”.  Well, I know enough to know that when your boss says that, he ain’t asking.  And so I became the Mid-Atlantic Area Manager of Labor Relations.  It was the biggest job I ever had.  Responsible for 80,000 employees in 7 states (and DC).  Six people working for me and four angry postal unions on my ass every day.  

There was never a quiet moment and I worked long hours.  But it was a challenge and I think it really helped me learn a lot about leadership.  Or maybe I just got lucky and hired good people to work for me.  Either way, I enjoyed a fair amount of success and I was slotted into the Executive Development Program.  I was at the top of my game and the sky was limit. 

Or not.  I’ve never been much for playing politics.  And when HQ came out with some dumb-ass policy or program, I expressed my opinion accordingly.  Suffice to say I did not endear myself to the HQ VP for Labor Relations.  And then Barry Swinehart retired.  And I was deemed “not ready” to be his successor in the Postal Executive Service.  So, I took a detail assignment as the Director of HR in Little Rock, Arkansas.  It was a little like going home again and I did enjoy my time there.  I was offered the job on a permanent basis, but I decided my future lay elsewhere.  So, I took a job with the U.S. Department of Education. 

The ED is the smallest of the cabinet level Departments with just over 5,000 employees.  I was the number 2 in LR there.  I had a fraction of my previous responsibilities but a 25% pay increase, so I went for the money.  And spent four years being bored out of my mind.  Oh there were moments when I engaged in massive battles with the union on the size of cubicles (I’m not kidding!), but otherwise I was phoning it in. 

Turns out money is not everything.  I started applying for jobs that would get me out of DC and the DC mindset.  I was hoping for a job in Iraq but the Corps of Engineers apparently weren’t looking for old fat guys at the time.  I did get an offer from the Eighth Army in Korea and I jumped on it!  I had no clue what I was in for but it turned out to be the best place I’ve ever worked or lived.  You can read six years of Long Time Gone archives if you want to relive my adventures here, but I wouldn’t recommend it. 

And so this is where my career journey will end on December 31.  It was an incredible ride.  And although I might have done some things differently, I wouldn’t change a thing.  If you get my meaning.  Anyway, I’d best be getting ready to do my retirement gig.   

My weekend

Ok, here’s the Sunday night wrap-up:

Friday evening I took a walk into Itaewon. It was quite interesting. Now, as you might expect it has that touristy feel with a little bit (alright a fair amount) of “being close to a military base sleaze” overlaid. Still, I had a great time. I mostly just walked around to get a feel for things, but I was not wanting to stray into an “off-limits” establishment on my first night off base. Although I am not totally clear on what is and is not off-limits, by power of my amazing deductive reasoning I concluded those bars with the scantily clad women standing in the doorway urging me to come in for a good time might have been the places I was warned to avoid. Thankfully, my power of resistance is almost as good as my deductive reasoning, and I successfully maneuvered my way out of the area. Seriously, I am a little too old to be snookered into buying $20 drinks for ladies of questionable reputation.

I did find a nice hangout called the 3 Alley Pub. Filled with foreigners, and most of them were G.I.’s. The bar is run by a German guy, and so of course I had to drink German beer. Ate dinner there (Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and peas) and drank more beer. Met and chatted with a G.I. from Fayetteville who was sitting next to me at the bar. Nice guy. So I had some more beer while we talked. Shortly thereafter I realized I had consumed too many beers and I had a 2 mile hike back to the hotel. But I made it and woke up on Saturday fully dressed.

Saturday morning I met with a realtor (actually two of them) and they took me around to look at apartments. Saw several that were pretty nice, but one in particular struck my fancy. It is in Itaewon about a mile from where I work. One of my preferences is that I be able to walk to work should the fancy strike me (having concluded that I will need to buy a car). Driving here is a little intimidating. Sorta like a perpetual game of chicken. The realtor’s driving scared and impressed me in equal amounts, but she was oblivious to all the near misses. Many of the streets are very narrow and she was driving a rather large (by Korean standards) Oldsmobile mini-van. Anyway, the apartment I liked best is on a hill and has a decent enough view, but what I really liked was the comparatively large rooms and that it had a great patio with a table and some nice landscaping. It was the only place I saw that I could really see myself making into a home. Just had that feel about it somehow. Unfortunately, it was unfurnished and I had not planned on shipping any furniture over. The realtor is going to see what the landlord is willing to do regarding furnishing, so I await the result of that negotiation. I may reconsider and buy or rent furniture on the economy if necessary, but there are still a lot of places to look at. I have almost $45,000 per year to spend and will be signing a two year lease, so I should be an attractive tenant. Oh, and when you go looking for housing, be sure and wear slip on shoes. I was tying my sneakers repeatedly throughout the morning. You just don’t wear shoes inside a residence, even if that residence is currently vacant. And another thing, I didn’t see any carpets (that is so clean and all thanks to the carpet cleaning fargo services), all the floors are hardwood (which is nice, but I will need to buy some rugs).

The highlight of the day was being treated to my first traditional Korean meal. We went to this out of the way restaurant that was formerly a Korean home. It had the private dining areas separated by partitions. The LOW table with cushions to sit on. The grill embedded in the table for cooking. The real deal I had been reading about. So we had bulgogi, which is thinly sliced marinated beef, which “we” cooked at the table. And of course two types of gimchi (plain and spicy), and all kinds of side dishes and vegetables that I don’t recall the names of. Oh, and this soup that was to die for. Everything was delicious. Very unique and flavorful. I proved so inept at using metal chopsticks, that they had to bring me a fork. It was very embarrassing, but not unexpected. (Full disclosure, I am crappy with wooden chopsticks too.) My hosts were extremely gracious and tried to put me at ease, but I did feel like such a rube. Anyway, with a fork I was able to load my lettuce leafs with all kinds of Korean goodness, and owing to my big mouth was generally successful in not making too big a mess. They asked me if I wanted something to drink and I said how about soju (I had read this was a traditional alcoholic beverage, and thought I would impress them with my astute cultural insights). They did look astonished, and then the younger of the two realtors, Ms. Jeong, said “for lunch? I drink soju only at nighttime”. Fearing I had made another faux pas I said a beer would be fine. By then it was too late, because as their guest I would not be denied. The other realtor, Ms. Kim, who was driving would not drink, but Ms. Jeong and I put a pretty good dent in the bottle. She may have just been being polite, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. I did not get drunk or anything, but I did have a nice warm feeling by the end of the meal.

This is Ms. Jeong. You can just see Ms. Kim avoiding being photographed.

After dinner shot. You can see the cooking table, but if I had any sense I would have remembered to take a picture when that table was loaded with Korean delicacies. Sorry.

I brought the leftover soju back to my room. It is still in the refridgerator.

I also was tutored in some basic Korean social graces (beyond the need to learn to use chopsticks). For example, when you are served, two hands are used and you receive with both hands. And when someone fills your soju glass, you reciprocate and fill theirs. Oh, and it was pretty funny because I kept holding doors or letting them enter first until it was explained that I was the guest and I was supposed to enter first. All very interesting, huh?

Saturday night I was invited to join my boss and his wife for dinner in their home. His new boss has also just arrived in Korea, and she attended the dinner party with her husband as well. I had read that when you are a guest in someone’s home, tradition dictates that you bring a gift. Shopping options at the hotel are somewhat limited, but I brought a bottle of wine and a small box of Godiva chocolates, and that seemed to be appreciated. Walt (my boss) has a Korean wife, and I think her name is Mi Sung (I am notoriously bad with names generally, and Korean names are a real challenge). She made a wonderful pasta dish with clams in the sauce and I cannot begin to say how pleased I was to see silverware on the dinner table. So, we ate and drank wine, and chatted the night away. Sharon (Walt’s boss, and my second-line supervisor) and her husband Bruce have been posted overseas several times. Most recently Nice, Italy. Sharon spent several years in Okinawa and Bruce was raised in Japan, so this Korean adventure is just one of a series for them. Anyway, it was great to have a social evening with the folks who I will be working for. To know me is to love me and all that stuff. So when the evening was over around 11 o’clock (can’t forget that midnight curfew) we taxied back to the hotel. No one drinks and drives in Korea (well, some do obviously, but there is zero tolerance for it, and the legal limit is .05).

My gracious dinner hosts.

My new bosses, Walt and Sharon.

Today was really cold. I did my laundry and dropped my work clothes off at the dry cleaner. I walked over to check out the commissary and had lunch at a base restaurant. Lunch sucked, but I got to watch a little on the Iraqi elections on Fox, which was nice. I’m told the Yongson commissary is the largest outside the CONUS. (yeah, I’m really getting into these military abbreviations. That’s continental United States for those who wondered what CONUS is). Anyway, it is like any large supermarket back home. I didn’t buy anything, I just wanted to be sure all the requisite comfort foods I require were available. I should do alright from the looks of things. The tortillas which are a staple of my limited cooking repertoire were frozen, but hey, I can deal with a little hardship. It builds character!

So, that was my weekend. Back to work tomorrow and I plan to dive right in and start asserting myself. I finally got my permanent ID on Friday, so I’m officially employed as far as the Army is concerned. I am getting more comfortable with each passing day and I have finally adjusted my sleep pattern to the local time zone. Although it is still freaky to think about watching the superbowl on Monday morning. People here take leave and have big breakfast parties. Don’t know that I am going to do that this year, want to save my leave for travel.

Ok, more on my life later. Here are some photos I took this afternoon.

The Seoul Tower is the dominant landmark around here. I need to do the tour.

The Korean National Museum is still under construction. Just outside the fence on land the Army returned to the ROK. Pronounced rock. Meaning the Republic of Korea. I kept wandering why the General was talking about Iraq, then I used those powers of deduction and figured it out. Duh.

These high rises are right off post. I looked at an apartment in one, but it’s just not for me.

This is a little waterfall like thing that is part of the hotel landscaping. Just to prove that it is cold today.

To a soldier

Our daughter Hillary is spending Christmas far from home in Afghanistan, but we are holding her close in our thoughts this day. A soldier’s life is not an easy one, but I know being away from friends and family during the holidays is especially hard on her. She is doing much with her comrades in the 450th Civil Affairs Battalion to improve the lives of the Afghani people. She was so excited and proud as she watched these people freely elect their president, especially when she saw women walking miles and waiting in long lines to exercise their newly found freedom. Here are excepts from one of Hillary’s emails:

“This place is dusty, hot or cold, and half way around the world from my loved ones. I believe in what I am doing here and if I didn’t I would not be here. There are some serious disadvantages to traveling around the world conducting peacekeeping missions, but at the end of every day I recap what I have done for Afghanistan and for the people I have met here, and in the end it is extemely rewarding.

The people of this country have the most unique characteristics of any ethnic group I have ever met. They are the warmest, most generous people with high morals. One thing all of the Afghans have in common is that they are a very courageous and strong people. Throughout their history they have fought the rule of the Persians, the Mongols, the British, and the Soviets. Never yet have they sold their soul to another. Afghans remain free.

Even though we have not found Osama Bin Laden, and my fellow soldiers are still being wounded and worse in Afghanistan, at least we have given these people a chance. When I look over the compound walls and see a kite flying in the sky, I know that represents one happy child who otherwise would not know that feeling.

This is the beginning for them, it is not perfect, nor is it expected to be, but it is progressive change in the right direction. I realize the news back home is filled with all the horrible things taking place here and in Iraq, but this is one story Americans don’t get to hear often–we are making a difference! Afghanistan is a better, safer place than it was. You have the combining of coalition forces and NGOs to thank for all their hard work. Together we are working towards the same goal and that is to liberate Afghanistan by providing the resources to sustain them economically and politically. As the Afghans would say, “Inshallah”. If God wills it.”

Merry Christmas, Hillary. There is no greater gift than the gift of freedom. Even though it comes at great personal sacrafice you are making a difference in this world. I am proud of you and all the other soldiers who give so much of themselves. You are all truly America’s best.

I love you.

Photoblogging Istanbul

Carol and I spent last week in Istanbul. It was really an incredible city and we had a wonderful time. The history was almost overwhelming. The people were genuinely warm and friendly. Since our Turkish language skills consisted of a few mispronounced words, we were grateful that almost everyone we met spoke English. The food was different, but delicious. We lived like millionaires (the exchange rate was $1.00 for 1.4 Million Turkish Lira). Of course, one night our dinner (including wine and dessert) cost us just over 100 million TL. We did all right though. Great shopping. Took a couple of tours, and walked around on our own a lot (only got lost once, but we found a cab and after Carol corrected my pronunciation we successfully got a ride back to familiar turf.

Not many Americans there, but we met a couple. The shopkeepers say that Americans stopped coming after 9/11 which is really a shame. The city has much to offer and we enthusiastically recommend it to anyone who wants to see some really unique places. Just soaking up the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman cultural influences is worth the trip. It was definitely the most unique place in the world I have had the pleasure to experience.

We encountered lots of Spanish tourists, some Italians. The locals mistook us for German until they heard us speak. One night we were at a club and the MC sang “New York, New York”, which was kinda funny with the Turkish accent and all. Then he asked people in the audience what country they were from. He would then sing a popular national song, and the folks from that country would sing along. We were the only Americans, and the song he sang was “This land is your land”. It was kind of embarrassing because after the first few lines, Carol and I could not remember the lyrics. So we faked it. Carol heartily joined in with the Spanish song, but I’m not sure she had the right lyrics, unless “aye yi yi yi, I am the Frito bandito” is really their song….

Anyway, the photos follow this post…..

This Medusa’s head is the base of one of 336 marble columns in the Yerebatan cistern, constructed by Constatine. It was a pretty ingenuous engineering fete and is a pretty amazing thing to see…to dark for decent pictures though…you just have to see it.
The view from our hotel window. Yep, the trams made some noise as they passed. But in the distance you can see two of the six minarets that grace the Blue Mosque. The call to prayer was broadcast from there at 6:00 am was definitely a unique wake-up call…
The Blue Mosque, constructed at the bidding of Sultan Ahmet I between 1609-1617.
The Hagia Sophia (St. Sophia) completed in 537 during Justinian’s reign. The minaret’s were added after Mehmet II conquered the city and in praise to Allah converted it to a mosque. Very impressive to view, and definitely the oldest structure I had ever set foot in. The history in those walls could almost be felt….
An example of one of the surviving mosaics inside St. Sophia. They were covered in plaster when the cathedral was converted to a mosque.
On the “Golden Horn” of the Bosphorus… 
And the shopping experience was quite unique. Carol with a shopkeeper named Erol at the Arasta Bazaar, which is much more laid back than the Grand Bazaar. Our experience was that you didn’t just make a purchase, you had tea and a chat as part of the transaction…
Our hotel, the St. Sophia. Not exactly the Ritz, but as Hemingway might say it was a clean well-lighted place. And the location was perfect. In the heart of the old city, right next door to the Hagia Sophia…
A shop in the Egyptian Spice Market….Carol bought saffron, pine nuts, and apple tea….
The Rumeli Fortress, built by Mehmet the Conqueror in only four months on the Bosphorus…
A Turkish toilet. Fortunately, this is the only one of this type I encountered. I’m not sure I trust my sense of balance well enough to attempt putting it to use…
Looking across the Bosphorus to Asia. Instanbul in the only city that spans two continents…
There was so much to see and so little time….but I have to say for a real glimpse of the lifestyle of the Sultan’s of the Ottoman Empire, the Topkapi Palace was the most interesting and impressive…
The Sultan-eye view of Instanbul from Topkapi Palace…
I found this tree worthy of a photo. From the grounds of the Topkapi Palace.
The entrance to the “forbidden city”, aka the harem.
These “apartments” on the upper floor of the harem were reserved for the Sultan’s favorites. Except for being virtually prisoners and sex slaves, I guess the job had some perks…
Ok, this is my personal favorite photo. We went to a restaurant that featured traditional Turkish folk dancing, and yes, that included belly dancers. And that’s all I think I’m gonna tell…