My final offer is 10 Lira and one pomegranate.

Although I intend to eventually play catch up with the last 3 weekends' island hopping adventures, I am going to go ahead and stay abreast of my experiences in Turkey.

We arrived in Selçuk (pronounced sel-chuk), Turkey via Samos island Thursday evening.  Our nearly 20 hour odyssey of ferries, 'layovers', and more ferries had worn the best of us down - personally I was running on 1 hour of sleep for 48 hours' wanderings.  Despite our exhaustion, we received a wonderful Turkish welcome in the form of a mind-blowing dinner.  We got to sample the various appetizers and dishes the restaurants here specialize in - hummus, baba ghanoush, eggplant salad, spicy tomato salad, yogurt with red peppers, cheese pastries, stuffed vegetables, and kebabs, to name a few.  As we were eating, I could see through the window one of the cooks rolling and baking fresh pita.  I have to say, other than the rabbit from Naxos, Thursday night was one of the best meals I've eaten since I left home.  Turkish food tends to have more spiciness than Greek food, something I must admit to missing.

Back at the hotel, we were all reminded of the contrast between Turkey and Greece when the mosque behind the hotel started evening prayers.  Naturally, I don't understand a word of Arabic, but the chants are beautiful, and even calming.

Friday was a free day, meant mostly for recovery.  Despite my inability to rise before 1:00 PM, I still managed to experience more in one day than I experience in an average semester.  I started with more great Turkish food, this time a Pidé, Turkish pizza.  After lunch, I visited a barber shop and paid 5 Lira (about $3.50) for a straight razor shave and massage.  I have never been shaved by a barber, especially not a Turkish barber, and I didn't actually realize I got a massage with the deal.  If such barbers existed in the US (and were as cheap), I would be clean shaven every day.

My next series of wanderings landed me outside a mosque at around 4:00 - just before one of the afternoon prayers.  Friday is the Muslim Holy day, and I think most of the men go to the mosque for at least one prayer session on Fridays.  An older man was quite insistent that Moshe, Ben, and I come in for prayers.  After ditching our shoes and bags, we gave in.  To someone who speaks no Arabic, the service inside sounds very much like the chants broadcast over the loudspeakers every few hours, with the added element of almost rhythmic variations of standing, bowing, kneeling, kneeling with your head to the floor, and back up.  I was perhaps overly worried about offending someone, or unknowingly doing something wrong - but no one seemed phased by the appearance of 3 clearly non-Muslim men in the mosque.  I really enjoyed the experience, actually.  The service had a very strong calming effect, and the long breaks between chants provide plenty of time for reflection or prayer (here I am showing my ignorance of Muslim tradition).

As if I hadn't already had a full day, a small contingent of students and professors decided to walk to the outskirts of town, following one of the main freeways.  Strangely, this freeway is paved entirely in brick.  The road is lined with palms trees, and one portion runs beside a huge orange grove.  The road seemed mostly abandoned - I'm assuming because it was Friday.

We stumbled upon a ceramics studio after a few kilometers' walk, which we took an opportunity to visit.  My wallet will probably regret that decision until the day I die.  We were greeted by a very friendly man named Kemal, who offered to give us a demonstration of the production process for the ceramics made there.  The master potter turned out an egg dish and a small pot in about 3 minutes' time, and then proceeded to make a perfectly fitting top for the pot without taking a single measurement.  The seam between the top and the pot were literally almost invisible.  He then offered to let one of the group try their hand at the wheel - an offer I was more than happy to accept.  To make a long story short, I won't be a master potter in the foreseeable future. It definitely did give me an appreciation for what it takes to make the intricate and beautiful shapes that are quite standard there, though.

Running down the middle of the same room was a line of tables, a woman at each table, painting different elements onto fired 'bisks'.  The master painted hand paints each outline, and each progressing painter fills in a couple of colors (all by hand).  The pieces they were working on were designed by the master painter, and resembled an extremely colorful and intricate peacock feather design, repeated over the entire surface of the plate and bowls.

Kemal demonstrated how defective pieces are detected - a strong flick should produce a bell-like ringing sound.  Any piece that makes a dull 'thud' when struck has a void or bubble somewhere in the clay, or one of the 3 layers of glaze and paint.  This test must be done on each piece after it has been both painted and fired - the only work left to do after testing is pricing.  Kemal said that approximately 20-30% of completed pieces are defective and will, given time, crack even without use.  Nearly 1 in 3 of the painstakingly painted and glazed pieces is destroyed.

Out next stop was the showroom, which was absolutely cavernous.  Kemal said they had 'over 10,000' pieces on display - and I think that is a very conservative estimate.  There were probably 15 rooms, walls and tables completely packed with beautiful pieces.  Each room had a theme - for example, one contained turquoise glazed pieces, another Hittite style, another peacock feather patterns. I left with three plates, costing me more Lira than I should post online.  I will post photos of two - the other is a surprise for someone, so it won't see the light of day until its box arrives in the US.

Dinner, again, was amazing - since we were paying for our own meals, there were considerably fewer appetizers.  Being on the up end of an exchange rate is really handy - eating suddenly becomes affordable, and I can eat like a king for maybe 15 TL, which is about $10.

I expected dinner to signal the beginning of the end of the night - I couldn't have been more wrong.  As a small group of us walked toward the hotel, we happened to run into a group of men we had met earlier in the day.  We set to talking, and somehow ended up deciding that Ibrahim (Ibo) and I should do some Turkish wrestling in the middle of the square.  Turkish wrestling isn't unlike sumo wrestling - it's a pushing game rather than grappling.  Ibo trains for Turkish oil wrestling, which is apparently a serious sport here (the national championship is actually in Selçuk).  I was quite sure he was going to destroy me, but I somehow came out the victor, despite the fact that we both ended up on the ground after I pushed him back 4-5 meters.  I guess the old linemen's drills from football finally came in handy!  He wants a rematch, and Ali has wagered one day's use of his scooter if I win again.

The men in the group we were with are all related - their family owns 5 shops and a restaurant near the beginning of the market street, all bunched together.  Marco runs a rug shop, Musa the textile shop, Ali sells lamps and souvenir ceramics/ibriks/ odds and ends, and Ibo works in the leather shop.  The other names are escaping me at the moment, and I'm certain I've butchered the spellings of the ones I can remember.  But it's really something to see such a close knit family, doing business part of the day and playing backgammon the rest of the day.  One would think they are just a group of 5 friends who happen to work together.  They are very friendly to all of the HISA students, and Musa has promised to teach me to play Backgammon - all in all, wonderful and welcoming people.

Today (Saturday) has mostly been spent in the market.  The streets for several blocks around the mosque and market street are blocked off each Saturday for a massive open air market.  It's like a Turkish flea market on steroids. There is a massive (maybe 1 entire block) area devoted entirely to produce, meat, and cheese - every fruit you can imagine, twice as large as you've ever seen it.  I picked up a pomegranate that was literally 2/3 the size of a basketball.  The rest of the market is clothing, purses, etc - mostly name brand, all knock offs.  It was here that I found the inspiration for the title of today's post.  Kara was haggling quite aggressively for a wallet.  Originally the seller said 30 Lira - Kara worked him down step by step.  She insisted she would pay no more than 10 Lira.  He went to 25, 20, 15, then even 12 before giving in.  Just before we left, I offered the pomegranate I was munching on to the salesmen - and he actually accepted it.  Thus, her wallet cost 10 Lira, and one pomegranate.

On my way to the hotel after lunch, another man stopped me in front of his shop.  He asked if I was with the school group, and if we were studying art.  He then offered to give an explanation of the symbolism and methods of making Turkish rugs and textiles, and explained that we were more than welcome to hang out in his new shop any time, even if we weren't buying anything.  I think some of the students have gotten explanations from the merchants they purchased rugs from, but I am definitely going back to hear Aiden's version.

I can't post photos right now, the internet here is running at a slug's pace.  I probably won't be able to post photos until I get back next Friday - but I plan to keep trying.  Unfortunately I don't have any photos from today's market excursion - I was told that many of the women here don't appreciate being photographed, so I sided with caution and kept the camera in the pack.