I am finally starting to post entries from Russia. So far they are turning out more like journal entries than articles, but I'll try to aim for a more balanced blend of impressions vs. information in the future.
Theme Song: "Из Алма-Аты" - Ногу Свело!
Jan 2, 11am (7pm local time)
Ataturk Airport, Istambul
After multiple unsuccessful attempts, I’ve given up trying to connect to the Internet. Different networks, locked and unlocked, all tell the same story: status “Connected” but “No Internet Access.” It seems like it’s a problem common among at least American users. When I approached a gentleman on his Mac who sounded like someone from the States, he testified that his attempts to get online have also failed. I’m making a mental note to ask Sevi about this.
Right now I am sitting at an airport bistro with half a liter of Efes Pilsen. Like Sevi said, it does seem like it’s the only kind of beer they serve. I’m finding it quite drinkable, though an unremarkable lager.
The bistro was getting filled to capacity, and shortly after I sat at a table for two, I was joined by a middle-aged gentleman also apparently seeking to pass the time between flights. Eventually we got to talking and ended up having quite a conversation, learning about each other and touching on a variety of topics. He turned out to be a Kurdish doctor living in Holland of Iraqi origin; a highly educated and interesting man. He was waiting for a connecting flight to Suleimanyah to visit his parents for a week. In the meantime, I learned about his sister, a mechanical engineer in Iraq, and his brother also living in Holland, who, after studying political science in college, now made a living as a sculptor, unable to find employment in his field. Nzar – a name that means “shadow of the mountain” in Kurdish – also had an artistic streak. He demonstrated some examples of his artwork on his phone. What I remember most were portraits of his sister’s kids in either pencil or charcoal. They were not photographic, but each one was depicted with a distinct facial expression, which added a touch of realism.
Theme Song: "Из Алма-Аты" - Ногу Свело!
Jan 2, 11am (7pm local time)
Ataturk Airport, Istambul
After multiple unsuccessful attempts, I’ve given up trying to connect to the Internet. Different networks, locked and unlocked, all tell the same story: status “Connected” but “No Internet Access.” It seems like it’s a problem common among at least American users. When I approached a gentleman on his Mac who sounded like someone from the States, he testified that his attempts to get online have also failed. I’m making a mental note to ask Sevi about this.
Turkish mineral water disclosing its pH content
Right now I am sitting at an airport bistro with half a liter of Efes Pilsen. Like Sevi said, it does seem like it’s the only kind of beer they serve. I’m finding it quite drinkable, though an unremarkable lager.
An exhibit of traditional wares at the airport.
Jan 11, 00:20 (12:20 pm Chicago time)
Apartment, Ufa
My
notes from earlier got interrupted by the arrival of my meal. I no
longer recall what it was called on the menu, something to do with
“fajitas.” It consisted of grilled strips of chicken and beef served
over peppers and onions, with flour tortillas, guac, salsa and sour
cream on the side. The food and beer came as a combo and cost me $25,
tips included. Overall, it hardly resembled the Mexican dish, but the
quality was pretty good, so no complaints there.
The bistro was getting filled to capacity, and shortly after I sat at a table for two, I was joined by a middle-aged gentleman also apparently seeking to pass the time between flights. Eventually we got to talking and ended up having quite a conversation, learning about each other and touching on a variety of topics. He turned out to be a Kurdish doctor living in Holland of Iraqi origin; a highly educated and interesting man. He was waiting for a connecting flight to Suleimanyah to visit his parents for a week. In the meantime, I learned about his sister, a mechanical engineer in Iraq, and his brother also living in Holland, who, after studying political science in college, now made a living as a sculptor, unable to find employment in his field. Nzar – a name that means “shadow of the mountain” in Kurdish – also had an artistic streak. He demonstrated some examples of his artwork on his phone. What I remember most were portraits of his sister’s kids in either pencil or charcoal. They were not photographic, but each one was depicted with a distinct facial expression, which added a touch of realism.
Jan 14, 00:20
Apartment, Ufa
We
ended up talking right until it was my time to board. The poor doctor’s
flight was delayed by 8 hours, and he’d have to wait at the airport
until about 7 AM. Towards the end, we both indulged in some Turkish
ice-cream (his treat). Neither of us could tell if it was any different
from other ice-cream, but it was good. The flight back was uneventful.
Fortunately, the passengers were sparse, so I was able to stretch out on
my row of seats for a nap.
Turkish ice cream server. Unfortunately, he didn't show off like this guy.
Overall,
my experience at the Ataturk airport was pleasant, minus the Wi-Fi
fiasco. Pretty good service and overall cleanliness. Though, when I was
told it was a “nice” airport, I wasn’t expecting to see Hermes, Bulgari,
Versace, et al. on premises. Also, it felt different to be surrounded
by a hodge-podge of languages again. I heard Russian, English (US and
UK), French and Italian, though I’m sure there were others I did not
recognize. But seeing and hearing all the announcements in Turkish
reminded me how long it had been since I visited a country where I
didn’t at least have moderate knowledge of the primary language, and how
it can be a bit disconcerting. Turkey seems like a beautiful country.
Given its large proportion of coastline, no wonder it’s a popular
vacation spot. I would definitely like to come back for a proper visit
some day.
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