The week I had trouble describing was my last week in Turkey. The week after my internship had ended that I had devoted to traveling and exploring more of Turkey and beyond. It all started on my last day at the hospital. After a number of difficult goodbyes, I packed my duffel bag and hopped on a bus with a vague notion of where I would go and what I would do. Guidebook in hand, I was confident that I'd figure something out.
Cappadocia: beautiful landscape with ancient cave dwellings in the background
To see all my pictures from Cappadocia and my other travels, Click Here!
To see all my pictures from Cappadocia and my other travels, Click Here!
My first day there, I had the great fortune of finding some fellow Americans who I teamed up with to explore the surrounding countryside. We set off to do some hiking and exploring of a nearby valley where there were a number of cave dwellings and churches to explore. Cappadocia definitely lived up to the hype. Between the beautiful landscapes, shimmying up and down ancient cave dwellings, and getting spiritual rejuvenation at some of the world's first churches, it was quite a place. And if the rock dwellings above ground weren't your style, there was even a 10 story ancient underground city where people would live for protection from the elements and other in years past. Pretty incredible stuff.
Cave Dwellings carved into the rock side
Exploring the 10 story underground city
As if all that wasn't enough, the most famous attraction in Cappadocia was actually not exploring the beautiful landscape or ancient cities and churches, but rather taking a sunrise hot air balloon ride. Unfortunately for our group of student-travelers, the price tag for this ($200) was a little beyond our price range. Disappointed, we stuck to hiking and exploring on our own. However, fate had other plans for us as we happened to run into another American named Russel while hiking. We got to talking and it just so happened that Russel had moved to Cappadocia to be a hot air balloon pilot. One thing led to the next, and before we knew it we were waking up at 4AM the next morning to go on a hot air balloon ride (for a price next to nothing).
Hot Air Balloon being inflated as the sun rises
Not a view you see every day
Shortly after our hot air balloon ride though, it was time to bid adieu to Cappadocia and my new friends and continue my journey South. It's at this point that my travels entered a new phase. Previously, I had basically only been to areas in Turkey that were popular and relatively touristy. While this was enjoyable (come on who doesn't love a hot air balloon ride?), I couldn't help but feel as though I was missing something. Missing the sections of Turkey where tourists don't go, the sections that would no doubt provide a much more unadulterated, unique view of Turkey. And with all of the events transpiring in the Middle East, I wanted to see for myself what was going on.
Antakya
To that end, my first stop after Cappadocia was Antakya, a modestly sized city located a mere stones throw from the Syrian border. The reason for Antakya was two fold: First, being situated so close to the Arab countries of Lebonon and Syria, Antakya had a flavor that was all it's own. A proverbial melting pot of customs and traditions from the influences of neighboring Arab countries. In certain parts here, you were just as likely to hear Arabic being spoken as you were Turkish. This mix was reflected in everything from the language to the food. The second reason was to observe first hand the consequences of the rapidly escalating civil war in neighboring Syria. For those who are not familiar with the situation, groups within Syria are currently revolting against the dictatorial rule of President al-Assad. These rebels groups currently have the support of many Western countries, including the US and its allies. In the weeks before my arrival in Antakya, the fighting had sharply escalated with severe fighting beginning in the major city of Aleppo, right across the border from Antakya. For more info see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syrian_Civil_War
Group of Syrian Rebels. Courtesy of brisvaani.com
As a result, a multitude of refugees had begun flooding across the Turkish border to a series of refugee camps that had been setup along the border. Additionally, the rebels, now openly supported by the Turkish government, use Turkey as a staging area for weapons acquisitions, training, and treating their wounded.
At first glance, Antakya looked like any normal Turkish city. Apart from the occasional reference to the Syrian conflict from people on the street, it was very difficult to tell that there was a major conflict going on a mere 50 miles away or see how it was affecting the city. People went about their business and were seemingly unaffected. However, it didn't take much digging to see that this wasn't the case at all. My first glimpse of this was actually immediately after I had checked in a hostel. As I had arrived at 6am, I checked in, sat down to grab some breakfast, and struck up a conversation with the family next to me that happened to speak English. It turns out this family was in fact Syrian and was fleeing the fighting in Aleppo. They had just crossed the border and had stayed to the night in Antakya as they tried to figure out where to go next. The mother, who spoke the best English, described how they had fled the fighting and were not sure where their next destination would be. At the risk of sounding grandiose, the faces of the mom, dad, and their young son and daughter painted a picture for me of what true courage looks like. Leaving everything behind, save a few suitcases, for the protection of your family and the hope of a better tomorrow.
After saying goodbye to the Syrian family, I decided to explore the city a little more. One of the most notable places that I saw was the Emergency Department of a public hospital in Antakya. Here the conflict in Syria was never far from people minds. It simply couldn't be as ambulances continued to bring wounded rebel fighters from the border. The Turkish government is funding their treatment, but as more fighters are filling the ER's, it is becoming more difficult for the hospitals to manage.
View of the Syrian Border
fears of voyeurism. I had done some research and knew the general vicinity of some of the camps, so under the guise of being a freelance journalist (the ethics of which can be debated at a later time), I headed for Reyhanli, a small town very close to the Syrian border where I thought a camp was located.
Reyhanli - small town right at the Syrian border
Shortly after arriving in Reyhanli, I soon realized that finding the refugee camp is not quite an easy task. It's not as if it's in any guidebook and there aren't exactly signs pointing you in the right direction. Add on to that the fact that I didn't speak Turkish or Arabic all that well (and thus getting info from the local is more difficult) and the situation become even more difficult.Not to be dissuaded though, I decided to go into a nearby restaurant order some food, and see if I could strike up a conversation with my waiter and perhaps he could point me in the right direction. As it turns out, I hit paydirt. After explaining my situation (that I was a "freelance journalist"), my waiter went into action mode, asking his other staff and gather people around my table in an impromptu meeting of the minds to discuss how I could get to the camp.
The impromptu meeting deciding how to get me to the refugee camp
Finally, a old man who happened to be in the restaurant offered to take me to the camp if I paid him $40. Seeing as I didn't really have any other option, I agreed and off we went.
The old man and me headed (at least I thought) toward the refugee camp
Not really sure what I was getting myself into we started driving toward the Syrian border. We got progressively closer and closer to the border with no sign of a refugee camp in sight. About 10 minutes later we pulled up to some kind of Turkish military checkpoint. My driver (Who spoke zero english) simply gestured for me to get out of the car and go up to the checkpoint. Not sure if this was the refugee camp or something else, I started slowly walking toward the checkpoint.
The checkpoint of some kind
It turn out that, no, I was not in fact anywhere near the refugee camp. The old man had taken me to the Syrian border, and beyond that checkpoint was Syria. Clearly there had been a mis-communication back at the restaurant. And while I do perhaps have a certain penchant for risk, I decided to head in the opposite direction of Syrian. Not to be deterred though, I tried my best to re-explain the situation to my driver and get things straightened out. Thankfully, it paid off as he took me to one of his friends that (maybe?) was driving a minibus to one of the camps. I hopped on, still no 100% sure what was going on, or if this would work, but I was hoping for the best. From the looks of the other passengers I thought it was a possibility that they were refugees so I thought I was on the right tract.
Minibus to the refugee camp
Finally, my luck changed in my favor. After a 30 minute ride we did indeed arrive at the refugee camp. Unfortunately, though as I started to walk through the gates to go inside, I was roughly stopped by the police guarding the camp and informed that only refugee were in the camp. Due to security concerns, including kidnappings that have happened in the camps, no outside journalist are allowed in. Journalist are only allowed to conduct interviews outside the camp and are at no times allowed inside.
Real journalists conducting interviews outside the refugee camp
After talking to the police and some refugees milling around outside the camp, it became clear that there was no bending of the rule on journalists. Even the Turkish press that was there was not allowed inside. What stunk though was that I couldn't even get a good look into the camp from the main entrance. For that reason, I came up with the brilliant idea of sneaking off and trying to look into the camp and perhaps get in from another location. As I snuck around I finally got some better glimpses into the camp. What I saw was essentially a tent city that had been erected around an elementary school that had been converted into housing refugees as well. There were people milling around and it seemed that a mini economy had even been setup as i saw little markets and stands setup.
Scenes from the refugee camp
Unfortunately, my presence had evidently not gone unnoticed by the police force guarding the camp. And next thing I know I'm having a nice conversation with 2 AK-47 toting guards. These guards knew that I should not have been there but clearly were not sure what to do with me. They radioed their commander and next thing I know a police vehicle with flashing lights is pulling up next to us on the road.
The police who were none to pleased with me
The commander came out, seized my passport, and began berating me for snooping around where I shouldn't have been. The tension in the air was appreciably high as I wasn't sure if I was just going to be yelled at or thrown in Turkish jail for trespassing. Thankfully, the commander landed on the former, and after giving me a good dressing down, told me to get out there and be on way. Not needing to be told twice, pictures in hand, I hitched a ride back to Antakya.
After packing up in Antakya, it was time to depart for my next destination: Northern Iraq. My desire to visit Northern Iraq was based on much the same reasons as my desire to visit the Syrian border: I was curious to see for myself a region that is discussed so much in news, but a region that I know almost nothing about. While Iraq did not perhaps have the same attractions or touristy destination as Turkey, it was one of the most interesting places that I have visited. What it lacked in flashy sights, it more than made up for in the positive, generous attitudes that I encountered from almost everyone I met.
Turkish - Iraqi Border
To cross the border, I paid a taxi driver from the Turkish border town of Silopi $20 to ferry me across the border. Thankfully we passed through relatively uneventfully and I arrived safe and sound in the Iraqi border town of Zakho. After finding myself a hostel, I decided to set out to explore the city a little bit. The first thing I noticed was just how heavily militarized Zakho was. AK-47 carrying men in military uniforms were as much a part of the scenery as people selling their wares on the side of the street.
Military Checkpoint
I wasn't exactly sure what to do with myself in Zakho, so I thought a good place to start would be to change some money and go exploring. Changing money was my first experience with just how nice the Iraqi people in this region were. I changed my money with a young man who clearly recognized that I did not belong in Zakho. Rather than being hostile toward me, as I might have expected, he changed my money and then in broken english asked where I was from. After talking for a bit, he motioned for me to follow him. Again I was presented with the perpetual problem of the solo traveler. Do I follow him and potentially have a great experience but clearly run a risk of this guy being up to no good, or do I play it safe and just walk away?
Clearly I did the former and went with him. We walked down one back alley, then another, and finally came to a door with a curtain draped over it. At this point, I was slightly unnerved. I had no idea where this guy was taking me and I felt like it was a possibility that I was about to be robbed or worse. We walked through the door, up a flight of stairs, and after my eyes adjusted I couldn't believe what I saw. What I saw was a bunch of men sitting around, smoking cigarettes drinking tea, eating, and just chatting. While under normal circumstances this would not be abnormal, I was visiting Iraq during the holy month of Ramadan, the month where no one can eat, drink, or smoke from sun up to sun down. So essentially what I had been taken to was a speak-easy where some men of the town came to eat and drink in secret, so no one would not that they were cheating Ramadan. My new found friend introduced me to some his friends, and everyone was incredibly nice. In fact, one of his friends, Kevok, and lived in Europe and spoke excellent English.
My new Iraqi friends in the speak-easy of sorts
Kevok and his friends were extremely nice and even took me around for a little tour of the city. After I was all explored out, I finally headed back the hostel to relax and try to find something for dinner. As I sat around trying to decide what to do, I was approached by one of the boys who worked at the hostel. Seeing that I was compeltely alone and didn't have anyone to eat with, he invited my to eat the "Iftar" meal, the meal that break the Ramadan fast with the hostel staff who ate together. I was incredibly touched by this gesture of reaching out to a total stranger and inviting him to dinner. Even though most of the conversation was in broken Arabic and English, I could not have felt more warm and welcomed. I came to find out that in this region of Iraq they have an expression for travelers and poor people, in English it translates to "Gift of God". The people believe that it is their duty as Muslims to help out those of need, and that it is an honor to do so. During the meal, the hostel owner said something to me that will forever remain with me. He looked at me and said, "Osama Bin Laden no Islam, this is Islam". Islam, just like Christianity, promotes peace and goodwill. Both of which I was lucky enough to experience in Iraq.
Breaking Fast with the Hostel Staff
After my travels in Iraq, I headed back up North for a final quick visit to the mountain city of Van in Eastern Turkey. I was only there for a quick day, but it was long enough to catch one of the more beautiful sunsets I've seen. The following day I caught a flight back to Istanbul and last of my travels in Turkey had finally drawn to a close.
Sunset over Lake Van
When it was all said and done my trip looked like this:
I hope you can now understand how I felt when the hostel owner in Van asked me how and why I was there? Summing up that experience in one simple sentence was simply not possible. It was simultaneously one of the most challenging and rewarding trips I've gone on. I hope I've been able to give you a flavor of what this experience was like and just how fortunate I was to have had it.
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