One of the great joys of being abroad is meeting the people of the country you are visiting. This is, at times, made even more of an adventure when you only speak a few words of the same language. As I have mentioned in other posts, Jon and I have been overwhelmed by the people we have met and their kindness. I can think of many instances of hospitality that I wish I could repay. But there are a few people who stick out in my mind for other reasons. They certainly may have shown us brotherly love, but they also surprised us, put us on edge, or made us laugh with their animation as individuals.
There was the old woman who lived with her family helping to run the hostel in Finike. Or maybe the word "helped" is a bit strong. The only thing I actually saw her do was chain smoke (and I mean chain smoke in every sense of the word), drink tea, and hiss at cats that tried to get into the kitchen. One morning she offered me tea by banging on the table she was sitting at until I looked over at her and then threw her arm towards the kitchen saying "Chay" in the deep voice that comes from years of tobacco use. I imagine her as the gruffest old woman I have ever come across. If there was ever a reason on this trip that I wish I spoke Turkish it would be to talk to her.
Then there was the man who desperately wanted Jon and I to stay at his hostel. We were exploring some ruins as the sun was starting to go down, and a bit confused as to where the trail was supposed to be leading us. Then enter this particular dude; probably 40 years old wearing a wife-beater undershirt, army camo pants, and sporting gold teeth and a glass eye. He may have been a nice guy, but his look just screamed "I don`t want to go anywhere with you". Anyway, he kept inviting us to stay at his hostel where he had tea for us. We kindly declined as we were set for camping that night, but the guy would not let it go. We must have told him thanks but no thanks seven or eight times. He finally left, but then drove by in his car and asked us a few more times. When hospitality gets as pushy as that, it can certainly make you uncomfortable.
Finally, there is Ali. We met Ali our first night here in Antalya. He owns an open-air cafe in the Old Town where we are staying. Jon and I had walked past his place earlier that day and he had tried to draw us in (which is something all the restaurant owners do and gets quite annoying). But on our way back from dinner we decided to stop for a coffee. In broken English he introduced himself to us and asked us our names. We immediately felt at ease with him. The best way to describe Ali is to think Charlie Chaplin. I feel as though all of his movements are over exaggerated as if he had no words to express himself and were trying to do it all with body language. His kind smile and laugh really round off the reasons we find him so likable.
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