Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails! Please write to either windlechristine@gmail.com or windle.keith@gmail.com Today we went to see the Children’s Festival which was in the square. Ataturk said that he wanted the National Day to be for children, with festivals and activities and no charge for children and students to museums etc. The cleaner at our hotel recommended the festival in this village of Göreme, since her child was in it. Organised by the school, it was a combination of National Day celebration and school concert.
The school band, with all girls on drums and all boys on brass instruments, led the whole school, carrying placards, around the town. A girl of about ten was a very capable MC, introducing some dignitaries who spoke at length, all the while the poor children suffering in their costumes in the heat and those with the honour of holding the flag and the enormous framed photo of Ataturk, valiantly keeping them aloft.
At last the acts started and the kindergarten children each came to the microphone to say something; what we did not know. 
The preps were dressed in western style purple and white outfits and performed a cheerleader type routine. 
Sightly older children performed a game of musical chairs, all dressed for a dance party. Some very basic choreography with umbrellas provided a contrast before some others performed a modified version of the soldier folk dance and a group staged a relay race involving different aspects of the physical education program. 
Between each act, groups or individuals came to the microphone and made impassioned speeches or performed poetry, all of which included Ataturk’s name, and some of which appeared to act out parts of his life. 
By this stage the chocolate bars that had been handed out to all the students and to their families watching were well and truly melting in the over 30 degree heat. The wind increased, whipping up the dust so that the children were all sheltering their eyes with chocolate coated fingers. At this stage we left, so we don’t know how everything concluded.
Way behind on the blog, and with no planning done for our next move, we retreated to the delicious cool of our cave and stayed there until the evening. Keith sorted through photos and slept while I typed. We consulted a travel agent about options for travelling further east and we were thinking of going next to Antakya, close to the Syrian border. He offered a three day tour covering several places we wanted to visit (Mount Nemrut in particular) and if time had been an issue, it could have been an option. As it was, we decided to amble along at our own pace and let our journey evolve.
I found a cotton long sleeved top – essential for all the walking we do in the sun – and we spent the rest of the evening chatting to an American called Lewis. He is working in Bursa in north-west Turkey at a franchise English teaching school for adults. He has a Turkish girlfriend and is trying to float a business venture of his own. A history buff, with a penchant for the crusades, he told us about lots of interesting paces in Turkey where historic battles have taken place. It seems that there have always been people who are motivated by high religious ideals but whose means of achieving their aims have not met those ideals in any way.
The school band, with all girls on drums and all boys on brass instruments, led the whole school, carrying placards, around the town. A girl of about ten was a very capable MC, introducing some dignitaries who spoke at length, all the while the poor children suffering in their costumes in the heat and those with the honour of holding the flag and the enormous framed photo of Ataturk, valiantly keeping them aloft.At last the acts started and the kindergarten children each came to the microphone to say something; what we did not know. The preps were dressed in western style purple and white outfits and performed a cheerleader type routine. Sightly older children performed a game of musical chairs, all dressed for a dance party. Some very basic choreography with umbrellas provided a contrast before some others performed a modified version of the soldier folk dance and a group staged a relay race involving different aspects of the physical education program. Between each act, groups or individuals came to the microphone and made impassioned speeches or performed poetry, all of which included Ataturk’s name, and some of which appeared to act out parts of his life. By this stage the chocolate bars that had been handed out to all the students and to their families watching were well and truly melting in the over 30 degree heat. The wind increased, whipping up the dust so that the children were all sheltering their eyes with chocolate coated fingers. At this stage we left, so we don’t know how everything concluded.Way behind on the blog, and with no planning done for our next move, we retreated to the delicious cool of our cave and stayed there until the evening. Keith sorted through photos and slept while I typed. We consulted a travel agent about options for travelling further east and we were thinking of going next to Antakya, close to the Syrian border. He offered a three day tour covering several places we wanted to visit (Mount Nemrut in particular) and if time had been an issue, it could have been an option. As it was, we decided to amble along at our own pace and let our journey evolve.
I found a cotton long sleeved top – essential for all the walking we do in the sun – and we spent the rest of the evening chatting to an American called Lewis. He is working in Bursa in north-west Turkey at a franchise English teaching school for adults. He has a Turkish girlfriend and is trying to float a business venture of his own. A history buff, with a penchant for the crusades, he told us about lots of interesting paces in Turkey where historic battles have taken place. It seems that there have always been people who are motivated by high religious ideals but whose means of achieving their aims have not met those ideals in any way.
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