The first part of the morning was spent at the Internet café. We found it thanks to the help of many people and, finally, because a kind waiter left his restaurant to take us. Many streets in the inner city have been made into pedestrian malls, which make for very pleasant strolling and window shopping. There are many clothing shops and shops that sell material and offer tailoring services too. The colours on display were very vibrant, with lots of yellows, reds and blues in clothing similar to Australia. A few shops catered for older people or more conservative styles and there may have been more of these in less central positions. At last we did more than keep our heads above water with the blog and sent some emails.
It was Monday – the day of rest for Museums and most tourist sites, but, hoping that not all respected it, we went in search of the nearby Ethnography Museum. We were using the faint and minute Lonely Planet book map, which, while it sited the museum, did not label all the streets around. Guidance from a Turkish man who now lives in the UK and who was visiting home, took us to the right area but the museum seemed to have disappeared. Our puzzlement was noticed by a young man who read the map and took us on to another part of the street, and finally up lane to the site. The museum was closed.
On the way we had learnt that Riza was from Afghanistan and was a refugee, recognised by the UN and waiting for his application to be considered by countries such as America, Australia and New Zealand. We offered him our email contact in case he should be accepted by Australia and require some help. He kindly invited us home for a cup of tea.
Riza lives in a flat with his brother and some fellow refugees, all of whom are living in limbo land waiting for decisions that are out of their influence or control. War has raged in Afghanistan for the whole of Riza’s life, and as he puts it, his youth is passing as he awaits his fate. He received only two years of education in Iran, where his mother had taken her three children to safety. Returning to Afghanistan at one stage, the decision was eventually made, on survival grounds, for the mother and sister to live in Iran, where the language is the same and two women can live reasonably cheaply, and for Riza and his brother to try to find a safe country where they might have a chance to gain an education and to make a life for themselves. During all this time Riza taught himself English, starting as a child with the loan of a friend’s ruler so that he could trace out the English letters in its cut out stencil. He uses English TV programs, the internet and any chance he can to speak to people to improve his English, which is already very good. He nominated the word ‘subscription’ as an example of a word he currently needs to find the meaning of, so Keith explained it.
We met some other friends and finally Riza’s brother, who shares the same eyes. We were struck by the beautiful manners, hospitality and gentleness that Riza displayed. We also reflected on the strength of character that he had in facing so many difficult situations, in educating himself and in caring for his brother. We hope that his case is considered soon and that he has, at last, the opportunity to access the kind of education that would help him to work in his field of interest which is space and the areas that NASA works on.
The terrace outside Riza’s high flat provided a sense of vertigo for anyone like me, looking down onto the heads of the people passing on the street below. The scaffolding on the building opposite was of uneven sapling wood, held together with nails and backed up by flapping plastic.
We went downstairs to wait for Mehmet, who had arranged to take some time off work, and became part of the crowd we had been observing.Mehmet suggested the zoo, and since the bus was not due for a while, he took us to the copper working sector. It was absolutely fascinating.
The narrow street was lined with small shops, their wares shining in displays spilling out onto the footpath. The air was filled with the sound of a hundred hammers and chisels being struck as the most glorious range of pots, trays, jugs, plates, cups and decorative ware of every type was created by master craftsmen. Even more than in a carpet shop, I was overwhelmed with the desire to buy some of everything.We stopped to watch as a man used his chisel to work a detailed design on a vase, with no pattern or measurement tools and only his eye and experience to repeat it once the vase had been rotated in the vice.
He showed us how the finished piece, after coating with tin, would have an oxide rubbed into it so that the indentations would show as a black pattern to contrast with the silver colour. Mehmet asked if we could enter a workshop and there we saw a white powder being rubbed onto copper serviette rings over a flame. The heat causes a layer of tin to be left on the copper, which is then polished. The tin is a bright silver colour and it prevents the copper from corroding in daily use. Other items are left with the copper colour on the outside and the silver effect on the inside.
Every shop seemed like a treasure trove. I was delighted to find that a little bowl with a handle and ladle, which Mehmet said was for drinking the watered yoghurt drink, called ayran, was fairly light. We were deciding to buy two when Mehmet gathered them up and said that he would like them to be his gift to us. This is a typical Mehmet action. He was so generous in every way and really treated us like family. 
We had a tea break in a very old tea room where men were playing games of ‘OK’, backgammon and a card game called ‘51’, similar to our ‘21’. We sat upstairs on a mezzanine floor, where you could watch other patrons coming and going. Racing to the bus stop, we discovered that we had just missed the bus but, not perturbed, we sat down in the square to drink tea and formulate new plans.The new plan was to visit the park again, from the far end, and to have some food at the café. After that we visited the Kurtulus Camii (Mosque), which was once a cathedral, built in 1892. The Imam told us that the same architect had been called back to oversee the conversion to a mosque, with the same style of stones and decorations being used. The exterior of the building has spectacular bands of black in the stonework. It turned out that the Imam was a friend of Mehmet’s father.
Our next stop was at the menswear shop of a school friend of Mehmet’s called Veysel. A primary teacher during the day, and business man owner of three clothing shops after hours, he has the distinction of having six fingers on one hand. He said that it is useful because he will hold up his hand and say "How many fingers?" to which the children automatically reply, "Five." They then learn about accuracy and observation and not taking things for granted. I knew there was something missing in my teaching repertoire!
Veysel and his young staff were very welcoming and he sent out for borek (like a filo pastry pie) and coke to share with us from the shop counter, while mulling over our next travel moves with us. The mood was very light and when we took some photos, we all had fun. I reviewed the photos the next day and saw that one of the boys, Morat, had taken some extras posing outside their window display.
Veysel closed the shop and led us to his women’s wear shop where we were again welcomed warmly and sat down to cups of tea. This was interesting because I have never been in such a shop as an observer over a period of time; only as a customer. The assistant served one young woman for about fifteen minutes, unfolding and displaying at least fifty garments from the shelves behind the counter. Another customer arrived and more garments were displayed for her. She left without purchasing and the first customer went upstairs to try on some items. A sea of garments remained to be refolded. I had never realised how much patience and tidying up is required of staff selling clothes.We were picked up by another of Mehmet’s friends and work colleagues, another agricultural engineer called Bulent. He drove us to a circular a restaurant in the park with an outside area all around, shaded by mature trees growing up through the floor. We enjoyed a cheese pide (like an oval bread pizza with melted cheese on it and the ends folded over) and then learned to play backgammon again. My memory from my triumphant game at Petra did not include any of the rules or strategies and Keith was up for a refresher course too. Mehmet managed to teach us the basics, coach us, provide excellent strategies for both sides and be a good natured but deathly opponent all at the same time. We had so much fun that we were inspired to look for a little travel set to keep our hand in ready for a future challenge match. Burhan arrived to drive us back to the hotel after a late and very enjoyable evening.
Mehmet has many friends and a busy social life. He is so busy that he needs three phones.
Gazientep's statue of Ataturk in a typically heroic pose.
1 comment:
3 days in Gaziantep with you was really very nice... hope to see u again..
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